Three weeks after my baby shower, I gave birth to a beautiful little girl. That same night, my mother-in-law told my husband, “A woman who cannot give this family a son is not the right woman for you.” He listened. He pulled away. And before our daughter ever learned to walk, he was gone.

Evelyn aimed the gun directly at my chest.

Lily began to cry, sensing the sudden spike of terror in the air.

Daniel raised his hands and begged his mother to put the weapon down.

Evelyn ignored him entirely.

She ordered me to hand over the flash drive right now.

I took a slow step backward, calculating the distance to the emergency exit.

Julian stepped smoothly in front of me.

He blocked Evelyn's line of sight with his broad shoulders.

He told me to run the second he moved.

Before I could protest, Julian threw a heavy glass jar of pasta sauce directly at Evelyn's face.

The jar shattered against her shoulder, spraying red sauce everywhere.

The gun went off with a deafening crack.

The bullet shattered a fluorescent light fixture above us.

Sparks rained down onto the aisle.

I turned and sprinted toward the back of the store.

Lily buried her face in my neck, crying loudly.

I could hear Daniel screaming in the distance.

I burst through the metal double doors of the stockroom.

I shoved past a terrified teenage employee.

I slammed my body against the emergency exit bar.

The alarm began to blare as I tumbled out into the cold Oregon rain.

I ran to my old sedan and fumbled wildly for my keys.

I strapped Lily into her car seat with shaking hands.

Just as I slammed her door shut, a heavy hand grabbed my shoulder.

I screamed and spun around, ready to fight for my life.

It was Julian.

He was breathing heavily, a dark red stain spreading across his ribcage.

He told me we had to leave before Evelyn's private security team arrived.

I helped him into the passenger seat and started the engine.

I hit the gas and sped out of the parking lot.

I asked him how bad the gunshot wound was.

He laughed weakly and unbuttoned his shirt.

He revealed a thick bulletproof vest beneath his clothing.

He said he never visits his mother without wearing armor.

I let out a massive sigh of relief.

Then Julian reached into his pocket and his face went completely pale.

“Which daughter is yours?” should have been a harmless question

The first wineglass shattered at 8:07 p.m

The moment the mafia boss’s wife called me “an illiterate servant,”

He looked at me with absolute dread.

He whispered that he didn't have the flash drive.

Chapter 4 - The Escape