Chapter 5 - The Socialite's Trap
By Saturday afternoon, the hospital room had become a fortified bunker.
Outside the door of Room 904, two armed Blackwood security operatives in plain clothes stood watch. Nobody entered without Marco Ruiz personally verifying their credentials and running their names through a background check.
Inside, Ethan was sitting up in bed, happily eating spoonfuls of vanilla pudding that Lily was feeding him with her uninjured hand.
"Plane!" Ethan babied, waving his right hand while his left cast rested comfortably on a stack of plush pillows. "Look, Lily! Big plane!"
He pointed his spoon toward the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the gray skyline of Lake Michigan. In the distance, a commercial jet was descending toward Midway.
"I see it, sweet boy," Lily smiled softly, dabbing a speck of pudding from his chin with a wet wipe. "A huge silver plane. Where do you think it's going?"
"To the moon!" Ethan cheered, giggling as he clapped his good hand against Lily’s palm.
Watching the boy smile was the only medicine Lily needed. Her bruised ribs still throbbed with every deep breath, and her head pounded with a dull, persistent ache, but seeing Ethan’s eyes bright and free of fear made the pain vanish into insignificance.
The door opened, and Victor stepped into the room. He was accompanied by a tall, elegant woman in her late forties, wearing a tailored navy suit and carrying a slim leather portfolio.
"Lily," Victor said, his presence immediately filling the room with an aura of unshakable security. "This is Evelyn Vance. She is the senior partner at Vance & Sterling, the premier defamation and civil litigation firm in the Midwest."
Evelyn offered a warm, professional smile and extended a manicured hand. "Miss Carter. It’s an honor. What you did for this boy took extraordinary bravery."
Lily shook her hand hesitantly. "Thank you, Ms. Vance. But I... I don't understand. Why do I need a lawyer? I haven't done anything wrong."
"You need a lawyer because the Montigues are playing dirty," Evelyn said, sitting down in the chair Victor pulled out for her. "Jonathan Montigue hired a notorious crisis PR firm out of New York this morning. They are leaking fabricated stories to gossip rags, claiming you have a history of theft and instability. Furthermore, an anonymous complaint was just lodged with Illinois Child and Family Services claiming that Ethan was neglected under your direct supervision."
Lily gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "Neglected?! I haven't left his side since the day I was hired!"
"We know that," Victor interrupted, his tone razor-sharp. "And CFS knows that. Marco has already delivered fifty hours of timestamped nanny-cam footage from the common areas of the estate showing your exemplary care. The CFS investigator closed the inquiry forty minutes ago and marked it as malicious harassment."
"However," Evelyn continued, "we are not playing defense. Victor has instructed me to file a two-hundred-million-dollar defamation and intentional infliction of emotional distress lawsuit against Jonathan Montigue, Serena Montigue, and the three media outlets running the smear campaign. We file at nine o'clock Monday morning."
Lily felt overwhelmed. "Two hundred million dollars? I don't want money, Mr. Blackwood. I just want Ethan to be safe. I just want this nightmare to be over."
Victor walked over to the crib and placed a gentle hand on Ethan’s head. The boy immediately leaned into his father’s palm, wrapping his tiny fingers around Victor’s thumb.
"The money isn't for you to keep if you don't want it, Lily," Victor said quietly, his eyes meeting hers. "Every cent we extract from the Montigues will be placed into a charitable foundation in your name, dedicated to protecting abused foster children in Chicago. But we are taking it from them because hit dogs holler where it hurts the most: their pockets."
Before Lily could respond, the door handle rattled violently from the hallway outside.
Muffled shouts echoed through the heavy wood.
"Get your hands off me! Do you know who I am?! I have a court order!"
Victor’s eyes narrowed. He motioned for Evelyn to stay with Lily and Ethan, then strode to the door and pulled it open.
Standing in the hallway, held back by the broad chest of Marco Ruiz, was a woman dressed in an expensive fur coat and cat-eye sunglasses. Behind her stood two men holding cameras with long telephoto lenses.
It was Victoria Montigue—Serena’s mother.
"Victor!" Victoria shrieked, lowering her sunglasses to reveal eyes swollen with fury and tears. "Call off your attack dogs! This hospital is public property! You cannot keep my daughter locked in a cage like an animal while you parade that trailer-trash nanny around like a saint!"
Victor stepped out into the hallway, pulling the heavy door shut behind him with a firm, resounding click.
"Marco," Victor said calmly. "Did the hospital authorize media press passes for the pediatric trauma floor?"
"No, boss," Marco replied, his hand resting securely on his tactical hip holster. "They snuck up through the service elevator."
"Call hospital security and have the photographers arrested for criminal trespass," Victor said without breaking eye contact with Victoria Montigue. "Confiscate their SD cards under the Illinois hospital privacy statute."
The two photographers immediately turned and bolted toward the fire escape stairs, abandoning Victoria in the corridor.
Victoria gasped, clutching her designer handbag against her chest. "You barbarian! Serena loved you! She was willing to raise that motherless child of yours!"
Victor took two slow, measured steps toward the older woman. The hallway temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.
"Your daughter did not love me," Victor said, his voice terrifyingly quiet. "She loved my surname. She loved the Blackwood trust fund. And as for my son... she treated him like an inconvenience she could kick and break whenever he dared to cry in her presence."
"She made a mistake!" Victoria cried, her voice cracking. "She was stressed! The wedding preparations—"
"A mistake is dropping a glass," Victor snarled, his eyes blazing with a fury so intense that Victoria stumbled back against the wall. "Torturing a fourteen-month-old baby is sadistic depravity. Tell your husband to stop releasing lies about Lily Carter. Because if another defamatory article appears online, I will not wait for Monday's lawsuit. I will call the CEO of the Maritime Bank and call in the thirty-million-dollar balloon note on Montigue Shipping tonight. Do you understand me, Victoria?"
Victoria stared at him in utter terror. She knew Victor wasn't bluffing. Blackwood Capital held the debt paper on half of her family's commercial fleet.
"You're a monster," Victoria whispered, trembling from head to toe.
"No," Victor replied coldly. "I'm a father. Now get off this floor before I have Marco carry you down the stairs."
Victoria turned and practically ran toward the elevators, the sound of her frantic footsteps fading down the sterile corridor.
Victor stood alone in the hallway, taking three deep breaths to master his rage. When he finally composed himself, he smoothed down his collar, opened the door, and stepped back inside Room 904.
Lily was sitting on the edge of the bed, her face pale, watching him with wide, anxious eyes.
"Is she gone?" Lily asked softly.
Victor walked over, sat back down beside her, and gently reached out to adjust the fleece blanket around her shoulders.
May you like
"She’s gone," Victor said softly. "And none of them are ever getting near you again. You have my word."
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