Chapter 8 - The Ghost of the Past
The phone call disconnected with a hollow click.
I stood completely frozen in the bathroom, staring at the black plastic device in my hand.
The voice belonged to a ghost.
It was the voice of the man I had testified against five years ago, the cartel boss who forced me into witness protection.
He was supposed to be serving a life sentence in a maximum-security federal prison.
I walked slowly back into the bedroom where Graham was gently tucking the triplets into bed.
He looked up at me with a soft, promising smile.
“They are finally asleep,” he whispered.
I did not smile back.
I held up the burner phone, my hands shaking so violently I almost dropped it.
“Did you know who I really was when we met?” I asked him.
Graham’s smile instantly vanished, replaced by a look of deep, crushing guilt.
“I found out the day you told me you were pregnant,” he confessed softly.
He explained that his corporate security team routinely ran deep background checks on anyone close to him.
They uncovered my sealed federal file and warned him that my former enemies were actively looking for me.
“If I stayed with you, the media attention surrounding my billionaire status would have exposed your location immediately,” Graham said.
“I told you to raise the baby alone because my absence was the only way to keep you completely invisible.”
Tears streamed down my face as I realized he had broken my heart strictly to save my life.
But his noble sacrifice was entirely useless now.
“Victoria's dramatic scene at the airport ruined everything,” I told him.
“He just called me on this phone.”
Graham’s face drained of all remaining color as he realized the magnitude of the threat.
The man who wanted me dead was no longer trapped behind bars.
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Suddenly, the reinforced glass windows of the penthouse shattered violently.
A heavy tactical tear gas canister bounced across the hardwood floor, spewing thick white smoke into the room.
