Chapter 8 - Blood in the Nursery
The blade flashed blue under the lightning storm, slicing through the air inches away from Ethan's throat.
Ethan ducked backward, his heels sliding on the spilled baby oil covering the smooth wooden floorboards.
He grabbed a heavy bronze floor lamp nearby, swinging it like a baseball bat directly into the intruder's chest.
The heavy metal base hit the attacker with immense force, throwing him backward through the shattered glass balcony doors.
The gunman screamed as he fell outward into the rain-slicked balcony railing, tumbling down onto the stone patio below.
Ethan caught his breath, gasping for air as blood soaked through the fabric of his left sleeve.
He rushed over to Clara, kneeling down to check her pulse near her neck; she was unconscious but breathing steadily.
Ethan turned toward the wooden crib, his heart hammering against his ribs as he looked down into the white swaddle.
The baby was wide awake, staring up at Ethan without making a single sound, his small fingers clutching his blanket.
Ethan scooped the baby up, checking his small body franticly for any signs of injury or distress.
As he adjusted the infant's swaddle, his fingers caught on a strange, rigid bump beneath the baby's left armpit.
It wasn't a medical bandage or a birthmark; it was a tiny, raised surgical scar shaped like a precise rectangle.
Ethan gently pressed his finger against the scar, feeling a tiny, hard micro-chip embedded directly beneath the infant's skin.
"My God..." Ethan whispered, realizing the absolute, terrifying truth of what Victoria had tried to explain.
The baby wasn't just holding a legacy; he was literally carrying the encrypted keys to a fortune inside his body.
Suddenly, warm flashlight beams cut through the dark bedroom hallway behind him.
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"Ethan!" Victoria's voice called out, panic evident as she ran into the ruined nursery holding an emergency lantern.
She stopped dead in her tracks, seeing the blood on Ethan's shoulder and the shattered balcony doors blowing open in the wind.
