Chapter 10
Amelia
I woke up with a throat that felt like I’d gargled gravel and a nose so clogged I could barely get air through it. Last night’s rain had turned my little sniffle into a full-blown beast of a cold. Just my luck.
As I climbed into my silver SUV, I blasted the heat full throttle, trying to shake off the chill that had sunk deep into my bones.
Morning traffic in Manhattan was the usual nightmare. I squeezed into the mess of yellow taxis and sleek black town cars, grabbing tissues every few seconds to deal with my dripping nose. Man, I hate being sick. As a doctor, I should’ve known better than to get caught in that downpour yesterday, but the emergency C-section went way overtime, and I’d left my umbrella behind.
About ten minutes into my drive, something in the rearview mirror caught my eye. A black sedan was hanging back, keeping the same distance for a few blocks now. I switched lanes to test it. Sure enough, it followed.
My heart started pounding a little faster, but my medical training kept me grounded. Could just be a fluke. I made a random wrong turn down a one-way street, then a quick right.
The black sedan was still there.
Now my pulse was really going.I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. The light ahead turned yellow. On a whim, I floored it, zooming through the intersection just as it flipped to red. In the mirror, I saw the sedan stuck as cross traffic rolled in.
After a few minutes of dodging and weaving, I pulled into the hospital parking garage, my hands shaking a bit on the wheel. I sat there for a second, trying to get my breathing under control.
Am I losing it? Was someone really following me?
In the staff locker room, my hands were still jittery as I slipped into my white coat. I caught a glimpse of myself in the tiny mirror inside my locker—pale, nose red as hell, and eyes showing more fear than I wanted to admit.
Who’d be doing this?
I thought about telling Ethan, but nah, that’s not happening. Our agreement’s clear: we live our own lives.
Between deliveries, I ducked into a quiet corner of the doctors’ lounge and dialed Olivia.
“Hey, girl,” her voice perked up on the line. “How’s the married life going?”
“Liv, something weird happened this morning,” I kept my voice low, checking to make sure no one was around. “I think someone was following me.”
“What?” Her tone flipped from playful to dead serious. “You sure?”
I told her about the black sedan and how I shook it off.
“Damn, Amy. That’s no joke. You think it’s your dad?”
“Who else? He’s obsessed with getting his hands on Mom’s money.”
“Alright, listen up.” Her voice got that bossy edge she uses when she means business. “I’m picking you up after your shift. When are you out?”
“Six, but—”
“No arguing. If they’ve clocked your SUV, it’s not safe. You need a different ride.”
I sighed, knowing she had a point. “Fine. South entrance at six.”
At six sharp, I hustled through the hospital halls to the south exit, glancing over my shoulder every few steps.
Outside, I spotted Olivia right away—even with her giant sunglasses and baseball cap, she stands out. She was propped against a plain black sedan, nothing like the flashy rides she usually rolls in.
“You look like crap,” she said instead of hello, pulling me into a fast hug.
“Gee, thanks. I feel like it too.” I handed over my SUV keys. “Can your security guy drive my car as a decoy?”
She nodded, passing the keys to a beefy dude in a suit nearby. “Already on it.”
I slid into the passenger seat of her car, finally letting out a breath. “Thanks for this.”
“What are friends for if not helping you dodge creepy stalkers?” She shot me a grin as she merged into traffic. “So, what’s the plan? Wanna crash at my place for a bit?”
I shook my head. “Can’t drag this mess to your doorstep. I just need a different car, something they won’t spot.”
“And where you headed? Back to Ethan’s?”
I nodded, not thrilled about it. “For now, yeah. It’s got the best security.”
“You thought about telling him? He might be able to do something.”
“Our deal isn’t about fixing each other’s problems, Liv. It’s strictly business.”
She gave me a sideways look. “If you say so.”
Olivia’s underground parking garage looked like a damn car dealership for millionaires. Shiny rides worth a fortune were parked wall to wall.
“Pick your poison,” she waved her hand like a game show host. “Ferrari? Porsche? Lambo?”
I rolled my eyes. “Something low-key, Liv. I’m trying to blend in, not stand out.”
She pointed to a dark blue sedan squeezed between two over-the-top cars. “That’s my brother’s old beater. He’s in Europe running the London office. It’s the most boring thing here—he got it before he turned into a rich idiot.”
I checked it out—full tank, in good shape, nothing flashy. Just what I needed.
Olivia pressed the keys into my hand, holding on a second longer than she needed to. “Be careful, Amy. If this gets uglier, promise you’ll call James. His security team’s the best in the city.”
“I promise,” I said, though I knew I wouldn’t pull anyone else into my drama.
Night had fully settled in by the time I started back to the Upper East Side. I took a weird route on purpose, sticking to back roads when I could. For the first fifteen minutes, I felt okay, thinking I’d slipped under the radar.
Then I saw it—a black sedan, just like the one from this morning, keeping a steady gap behind me.
Son of a bitch. They must’ve staked out the hospital or tailed us to Olivia’s.
My heart was slamming against my chest as I sped up, trying to lose them. The sedan kept pace like it was nothing. These guys weren’t rookies; they knew exactly how to stick to me.
The streets were quieter now, making it harder to shake them. I made a bunch of quick turns, but those headlights stayed glued to my mirror.
This isn’t just about watching me, I realized, dread creeping in. They’re making their move tonight.
As I neared an intersection, another car cut across my lane out of nowhere. I slammed the brakes, the sedan skidding on the wet pavement. For a split second, I felt the tires slip, the car sliding sideways before jerking to a stop just inches from the other vehicle.
The car behind me screeched to a halt, trapping me in. Through the mirror, I saw two big guys step out, shadows against their headlights. One had what looked like a stun baton in his hand.
They walked toward my car, slow and purposeful, motioning for me to lower my window. I scrambled for my phone, hands shaking as I tried to call Ethan. The signal was garbage—one lousy bar, barely enough to even try.
The line rang once, twice…
One of the guys was at my window now, tapping the stun baton against the glass.
“Dr. Thompson,” his voice came through, muffled but clear enough. “Step out of the car, please.”
The call to Ethan dropped to voicemail.
I was stuck.