Chapter 24
ETHAN
This was supposed to be a pleasant dinner, an official introduction to Natalie and an announcement of our child. But instead, my family is gathered in the hospital.
I’m by Natalie’s side who is pale-faced, her expression stricken as the doctor tends to her.
“Superficial injuries,” she assures us. “The baby is fine. You just have some scrapes and bruises, and it’s going to hurt for a bit. Since you’re pregnant, though, I cannot give you any pain medication. But you’ll be fine in no time.”
“What about Roland?” Natalie looks at her anxiously.
The doctor exchanges a look with me before saying gently. “Your friend is still in surgery.”
Natalie flinches.
I rub her knuckles gently. “He saved you.”
I see the distress on her beautiful face. “Ethan... That car. It wasn’t speeding by. It didn’t lose control. It aimed for me. It could’ve swerved. There was room. It didn’t.”
Fury pulses through me like a living thing .
“Someone tried to kill you,” I say coldly, anger thrumming through my veins.
Natalie’s hand just tightens around mine. “They would have hit me if Roland hadn’t shown up when he did. I—He has to be fine. I don’t think I’ll be able to bear it if something happened to him because of me. What was he even doing there?”
Her eyes are shimmering with tears.
I stand up. I can’t sit still. Kissing her forehead, I tell her, “Caleb and my parents are here. I’ll have them sit with you. I need to make a call.”
She nods, squeezing my hand once before I slip out of the room.
Just down the hallway, my entire family has taken over the waiting area. My mother is talking softly to my father. Jake paces, and Caleb is seated beside Megan. Nick is sitting beside his very pregnant wife whose arms are crossed tightly over her chest.
“How is she?” My father is the first to see me.
“Natalie’s okay. The baby’s okay. Roland’s still in surgery.”
There’s a ripple of visible relief—and then fresh tension. Everyone looks shaken. Roland isn’t just a friend of the family. He’s Dad’s oldest friend. Practically an uncle to us.
“She said the car aimed for her,” I reveal.
Jake stiffens. Megan sucks in a breath.
Elisha snorts. "Maybe it was just a drunk driver.”
Nick gives her a sharp look. “Don’t.”
She throws her hands up. “I’m just saying! We’re all sitting around here, and this place smells like antiseptic. I’m eight months pregnant. I’m uncomfortable. I want to go home. The girl isn’t dead. The kid isn’t dead. So why the hell are we still here? You promised me a nice dinner.”
I bristle and take a step forward, but my youngest brother is already on it .
“Elisha,” Nick says tightly. “We’re here because Natalie nearly got killed. Can you not?—”
“I don’t want to stay here,” she argues, voice rising. “I didn’t sign up to spend my evening in a hospital. I’m pregnant. I’m not feeling well?—”
“Then we’ll have a doctor look over you.” Nick tries to help her up but she smacks his hand away.
“I don’t want to see a fucking doctor,” she hisses at him. “I want to go home.”
“Enough,” my mother cuts in, stepping forward. Her voice is calm but firm. “Nick, take her home. Now.”
Elisha looks smug. Nick just looks pissed.
He grabs his keys. “Fine. I’ll take her. But I’m coming right back.”
“Excuse me?” Elisha snaps. “You’re going to leave me at home by myself? You’re staying with me. There’s no reason to come back here. That bitch isn’t dead!”
“Watch your mouth, Elisha.” My mother’s voice is cold now. “I am willing to tolerate quite a lot, but not disrespect. Natalie is part of the family now.”
“And I’m the one carrying your fucking grandchild,” Elisha sneers.
“So is she!” Caleb gets to his feet, pissed.
“Yeah,” she scoffs. “We’ll see for how long.”
“Control your wife, Nick,” I say harshly. “And if she cannot be expected to behave like a civilized person, stop bringing her around the family.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Elisha struggles to her feet. “I’m the daughter-in-law of the Wilder family. She’s just a whore you knocked up!”
“Enough!” Nick grabs her arms and gives her a furious shake. “I’m taking you to your mother’s.”
“No, you’re not!” She sinks her nails into his arms. “You’re taking me home, and you’re not coming back here! Or I’m never letting you see this child.”
Nick pales, and she smirks. “Exactly. You’d better fall in line, Nick.”
My father rarely intervenes, but he approaches Elisha, his voice harsh. “Do not ever threaten my son, Elisha, or use that tone with my wife. This child is ours. And if you want to employ dirty tactics using it, I will ensure that you never see this child.”
Elisha goes still, her body quivering in rage. “You can’t do that. I’m its mother.”
“It? You mean your son?” My father’s voice is chilly now. “You are on thin ice, and I will not tolerate your attempts to isolate my son from his family. Take her to her mother, Nick. And come back.”
Elisha bursts into tears. “Are you going to let him talk to me like that?”
Nick just ignores her. “Let’s go.”
When she realizes her tears are not having their intended effect, they dry up in the next heartbeat, and she huffs, stalking off toward the elevator.
"Drama queen," Megan mutters under her breath.
“Mom.”
My father is comforting her, and she looks up when I call out to her. “Is Natalie?—?”
“She’s fine. Can you go be with her? I don’t want to leave her alone, but I have to go deal with the police.”
“We’ll go as well.” Megan gets up, pulling Caleb along with her.
“I’ll stay here and wait for the surgery to be over.” Dad looks tense.
My phone begins to buzz as Jake approaches me.
"Derrick." I press the phone to my ear. The deputy police commissioner's voice comes through clearly despite the distant sound of sirens and traffic from his end.
"I'm here. Where are you?"
"We're in the ER."
"I'm waiting outside. Corner of Fifth and—" A horn blares in the background, cutting him off briefly. "—near the main entrance."
"I'm coming."
I just turn to nod at my brother, and Jake's already moving towards the exit before I've finished the gesture.
We walk down the corridor, past silent vending machines and posters about flu shots, our footsteps echoing against linoleum floors.
The lobby is mostly quiet now, the chaos from earlier settling into a tense calm.
I'm barely keeping my fury in check. Natalie was almost killed. My woman. The mother of my child. And someone orchestrated it.
It wasn't random.
I adjust my charcoal wool overcoat as we push through the hospital doors. The evening air bites through the fabric, sharp enough to make pedestrians hurry past with their heads down, hands shoved deep in their pockets.
Derrick's unmarked black SUV is idling at the curb, exhaust visible in the cold air. He steps out when he sees us, pulling his jacket tighter as he approaches. His face is all business despite the chill.
We reach him, and he straightens immediately. “You need to see this.”
He opens the back door, and inside there’s a laptop propped up with a paused video feed on the screen. A traffic cam, timestamped for today. Derrick hits play.
The footage shows our car leaving the office’s parking lot. Not a second later, a black sedan turns on its lights and trails after us .
“It was parked there since one in the afternoon. Nobody got out. Nobody got it. It seemed to be waiting. The minute your car leaves, it takes off after you. I ran it frame by frame,” Derrick says.
“I also checked the traffic footage of the route you took. It lingered a few cars behind you, trying to stay out of sight. Whoever this was is a pro.”
I glance at Jake, who crosses his arms tightly, his expression tense.
Derrick runs his fingers through his hair. “They tailed you from the office, followed all the way to that light, then hung back, idling along the pathway where people get off while the valet parks. But when Natalie got out and walked ahead…” He zooms in. “The driver speeds. Deliberately.”
The next few frames move sickeningly fast. Natalie standing on the sidewalk. I see Roland across the road, approaching. The car accelerating. Roland running now, panic and fear on his face.
Jake curses under his breath.
“They were aiming for her,” I say, voice low.
Derrick nods. “No doubt. And they knew what they were doing. Tinted windows. Fake plates. Swapped out before the drive. We can’t trace ownership. But we’ve got the traffic cam footage. My team’s tracking which way it turned after it sped off. That might give us something.”
I stare at the paused image of the car mid-turn. Fury swells in my chest, wild and livid. “Tell me it was Lucas.”
“I wanted it to be,” Derrick mutters. “Would’ve been clean. Tied off the threat in a neat bow.”
Jake narrows his eyes. “So it wasn’t?”
“No.” Derrick sighs and shuts the laptop. “Lucas Wilder was beaten within an inch of his life while in holding. He’s been in the hospital since his mother posted bail. Hospital confirmed. His mother hasn’t left his side.
I resist the urge to slam my fist into the side of the SUV .
“So it’s not him,” I grind out. “Then who?”
Jake looks between the two. “What if it was a hit? Lucas could have arranged for a hit. He was determined to kill her. I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“It’s possible.” Derrick agrees but the tone of his voice puts me on edge.
“What aren’t you saying?”
“There’s a chance,” Derrick says carefully, “that this wasn’t about Natalie in the first place.”
I stare at him. “What the hell are you saying?”
“I’m saying it’s possible— possible —you are the target.”
Jake stiffens. “You think somebody is going after Natalie because of Ethan?”