Chapter 10 - Poisoned Veins
The morning sun had barely crested the horizon when the major television networks cut into their regular broadcasting with an urgent press conference.
Della was sitting in the sunny breakfast room of the estate, sipping herbal tea, when Mrs. Higgins accidentally dropped a silver tray in shock while looking at the wall-mounted television.
"Mrs. Higgins? What's wrong?" Della asked, turning toward the screen.
Her heart dropped into her stomach.
Standing behind a podium surrounded by news cameras was Liam—her ex-fiancé. He was holding a handkerchief, wiping away fake tears as a high-profile celebrity attorney stood beside him.
"My name is Liam Vance," Liam sobbed dramatically into the microphones. "And I am begging the public for help! Five months ago, my pregnant fiancée, Della Marsh, was violently abducted by the notorious criminal figure Royce Calloway! He has been holding her hostage in his North Hills estate, forcing her to cut off all contact with her real family!"
Della gasped, dropping her tea cup. The porcelain shattered against the hardwood floor. "No... no, this can't be happening..."
The attorney at the podium stepped forward, holding up legal documents. "We have officially filed an emergency petition with the State Supreme Court for a restraining order against Mr. Calloway, an immediate police wellness check, and full legal custody of the unborn child on behalf of the biological father, Liam!"
Before Della could process the overwhelming wave of horror, the door to the breakfast room opened, and Royce walked in. His face was thunderous, his eyes burning with a lethal fury that made the air in the room feel suffocating.
"Royce..." Della cried, standing up on shaky legs. "He's lying! Liam lied! He abandoned me! He stole my money and ran away four months ago! I was never abducted!"
Royce walked straight to her, wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her trembling body. "I know, Della. I know he's lying."
"Why is he doing this?!" she sobbed, clutching his chest. "Why is he trying to take my baby?!"
"Because someone is paying him," Royce said coldly, his jaw tight. "Liam is a coward. He wouldn't have the courage to step in front of a camera unless someone with immense power was backing him."
Marcus stepped into the room, holding an encrypted phone. "Boss, it's Julian. He just called an emergency meeting of the Calloway Syndicate Board of Directors for two o'clock today. He claims you have brought severe legal and reputational ruin to the family empire."
Royce sneered, a dark, lethal smile touching his lips. "Julian... I should have put a bullet in his head five years ago when he tried to audit my shipping accounts."
"What are we going to do, Royce?" Della asked, tears spilling down her face. "If the court issues a wellness check, the police will come here with cameras! It will be a media circus!"
"Let them come," Royce said calmly, his eyes narrowing. "They want a show? I will give them a masterclass."
He turned to Marcus. "Call our lead investigator. I want every bank statement, phone log, and hotel record of Liam’s movements over the past four months. Find out who paid him, where he stayed, and which woman he ran away with. I want it on my desk in one hour."
"On it, Boss," Marcus said, exiting quickly.
Royce turned back to Della, taking her face tenderly between his hands. "Listen to me carefully, Della. Look at me."
Della looked into his fierce, unyielding eyes.
"No one is taking this baby from you," Royce swore, his voice resonating with absolute, unshakable authority. "Not Liam, not the courts, and not my bastard cousin. You are safe. Do you trust me?"
Della swallowed hard, wiping her tears, and nodded firmly. "I trust you with my life, Royce."
By eleven o'clock that morning, three state police cruisers and two black government sedans pulled up to the heavy iron gates of the Calloway estate. A swarm of news vans and paparazzi hovered right outside the perimeter, flashing cameras endlessly.
A senior police captain accompanied by a court officer walked up the front steps, holding an execution order for a wellness check.
The massive oak front doors opened.
Royce stepped out onto the porch, flanked by six imposing security guards in dark suits. But he wasn't alone.
Walking beside him, wearing an elegant cream maternity dress, her hand resting comfortably and confidently in Royce’s grip, was Della Marsh.
The paparazzi went wild, camera flashes lighting up the driveway like lightning!
The police captain stepped forward, looking uncomfortable. "Mr. Calloway, we have a court-ordered wellness check regarding Miss Della Marsh based on allegations of unlawful detainment."
Royce didn't answer. He simply stepped back, allowing Della to take center stage.
Della looked directly at the police captain, and then turned her clear, resolute gaze straight toward the flashing news cameras.
"Captain," Della said, her voice echoing clearly over the noise of the crowd. "My name is Della Marsh. I am not a hostage. I am here by my own choice, protected and cared for by the man I love."
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She turned her eyes directly into the lens of the main television camera, her voice turning sharp as steel. "And as for Liam... you abandoned me in a cold apartment when I was pregnant and broke. You stole my life savings. You are not a father—you are a thief. And you will never touch my child."
The crowd of reporters gasped in absolute shock! The narrative was obliterated in five seconds live on national television!
