The Calculation

The escape had to be timed perfectly.

Chloe knew the service elevator used a keycard system, not retina scans. The cleaning staff came at 4:00 AM.

She packed nothing. She couldn't risk a bag. She wore her thickest coat over her maternity dress and stuffed a wad of cash she had stolen from Sterling’s wallet into her bra.

3:58 AM.

She waited by the service entrance. The elevator chimed. A tired-looking beta woman pushed a cart out.

As the doors began to close, Chloe jammed her arm in. The sensors triggered, and the doors slid open.

She stepped inside and hit *Lobby*.

The descent took forever. Her heart hammered against her ribs, mimicking the frantic rhythm of the baby.

*Just get to the street,* she told herself. *Get to the subway. Get lost in the crowd.*

The elevator dinged. Ground floor.

The doors opened.

The lobby of the Sterling Tower was a cathedral of marble and waterfalls. It was empty. The night concierge was missing from his desk.

Chloe walked fast, wincing at the pain in her hips. She could see the revolving doors. She could see the rain on the pavement outside. Freedom.

She reached the doors and pushed.

They didn't move.

Locked.

"Chloe."

The voice came from the shadows near the waterfall.

Chloe spun around.

Sterling was standing there. He wasn't in Tokyo. He was wearing a casual black sweater, holding a tablet. He looked calm, rested, and utterly terrifying.

"You hacked the server," he said. It wasn't a question. "I received an alert the moment you opened the file."

"Let me go," Chloe said, backing up against the glass. "I don't want your money. I want my baby."

Sterling sighed. He walked toward her, the sound of his footsteps echoing on the marble.

"It’s not your baby, Chloe. It’s a Sterling. It belongs to the legacy."

"I am the mother!" she screamed.

"You are the vessel," Sterling corrected gently. He stopped five feet away. "And you are endangering the asset with this hysteria."

"I'm leaving," Chloe said. "If you try to stop me, I'll scream. I'll go to the press."

Sterling tapped his tablet. A live video feed appeared on the giant screen above the reception desk.

It was a house. A small, shabby house in the Lower District. Her parents' new condo.

"Your parents are sleeping," Sterling said. "Gas leaks are so common in those cheap developments. It would be a tragedy if a spark occurred."

Chloe froze. She stared at the screen. The grainy footage showed her father’s car in the driveway.

"You wouldn't," she whispered.

"I protect my investments," Sterling said. "The heir is the investment. You are the packaging. If the packaging becomes difficult, I discard it. If you walk out that door, I incinerate everything you have ever loved."

He held out his hand.

"Come back upstairs, Chloe. Finish the job. And everyone lives happily ever after."

Chloe looked at the rain outside. It was just glass away. Just inches.

She looked at the screen.

She did the math.

*Variable A: Freedom.*

*Variable B: Her parents' lives.*

The equation had only one solution.

She slumped, defeated. The fight drained out of her, leaving only the heavy weight of the child.

She took Sterling’s hand.

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