Chapter 5 - The Cold Exit
The townhouse in Beacon Hill was dark and silent. Nia moved through the master bedroom with meticulous speed. She had packed the majority of her belongings weeks ago, slowly siphoning her life out of the house unnoticed. Now, she only needed a single duffel bag for the final items.
Her phone vibrated on the bedspread. It was a secure message from the private security contractor she had hired using the funds she had quietly diverted from Adrian’s accounts over the last three days.
Target has been detained by federal agents at the downtown headquarters. Warrants being executed at all known properties.
Adrian was in handcuffs. The empire was burning. The accounts were frozen. The men who might have pursued her on his orders were currently scrambling to avoid federal indictments.
Nia stood in the center of the lavish bedroom she had shared with a monster for four years. She took her wedding ring off, the heavy diamond feeling suddenly like a shackle removed from her skin. She walked into the kitchen and placed it on the marble island, right next to a single, sealed envelope addressed to Adrian.
Inside the envelope were the divorce papers, drawn up by a ruthless out-of-state firm, severing all financial and legal ties.
She did not leave a letter explaining why. She did not mention St. Catherine's. She did not mention Erin, or the lies, or the violence. She denied him the closure of an explanation, leaving him to rot in a federal cell wondering how the quiet woman he thought he controlled had orchestrated his absolute destruction.
And most importantly, she did not leave the ultrasound photograph.
That belonged to her.
Nia picked up her bag and walked out the front door into the cool Boston night. A sleek, armored car was waiting for her at the curb, the engine idling quietly. The driver, a professional she had vetted thoroughly, opened the door.
"To the airfield, Ms. Brooks?" the driver asked, using her maiden name.
May you like
"Yes," Nia said, stepping into the back seat.
As the car pulled away from the townhouse, leaving the ruins of Adrian Cole's life behind, Nia placed a protective hand over her stomach. She looked out the window, watching the city lights blur into streaks of gold and silver. For the first time in years, she wasn't hiding. She wasn't playing a role. The fear was gone, replaced by the steady, unyielding rhythm of her own heart, and the fast, strong heartbeat of the child she had just saved.
