Chapter 3 - The Billionaire's Wrath"Dad, please... take Emma," I choked out, handing our terrified daughter toward him.

My father took Emma gently in his arms, wrapping his plush wool coat around her tiny, trembling body. He kissed her forehead, whispering, "You're safe now, baby girl. Grandfather is here."
He stepped outside and placed Emma carefully into the backseat of his armored SUV, where his personal driver and bodyguard, Marcus, was already stepping out of the vehicle.
"Marcus," Richard said calmly as he turned back toward the house. "Call Dr. Vance. Have the surgical suite at St. Jude's prepared immediately. Then call security team Alpha."
"Right away, Mr. Lawson," Marcus replied, his posture tightening as he spotted the blood on my shirt.
Trevor stood frozen near the fireplace. The bravado that usually fueled his abuse was evaporating now that he was no longer facing a defenseless pregnant woman.
"Richard, listen to me," Trevor stammered, backing away as my father walked back into the living room. "This is a domestic matter! You can't just come into my home and dictate—"
"Your home?" my father cut in, taking another step forward. "This house was bought with a trust fund I created for my daughter. Every stitch of clothing on your back, every tire on the car in that driveway, was underwritten by my family."
"I am her husband!" Trevor yelled, trying to reclaim control, raising his finger in defiance. "You can't take her anywhere without my consent! If she leaves with you, I'll call the police for parental abduction!"
Richard stopped walking. A slow, chilling smile touched his lips—a look that sent a shiver down Trevor's spine.
"Call them," Richard said softly. "Please, Trevor. Dial 911 right now. Let's get the police, the press, and the forensic team in this room. Let's see how long your corporate career lasts when the photos of my daughter's face hit the front page of every news outlet in the country."
Trevor lowered his hand, his lip quivering. He knew he was trapped. He worked as a junior partner at a financial firm that depended heavily on Lawson Global's institutional investments. One word from my father, and Trevor wouldn't just lose his job; he would be utterly ruined.
My father walked over to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders to support my weight. "Can you walk, sweetheart?"
"Yes," I wheezed, clutching my belly.
"We are going," my father said to Trevor, not even looking back at him. "Do not follow us. Do not call her. If you so much as step foot on any property owned by my company or my family, you will learn what true ruin feels like."
As we crossed the threshold, Trevor snapped. Fear turned back into explosive, unhinged venom.
"You think you can just discard me?!" Trevor screamed from the doorway, his voice cracking with desperation. "She's nothing without me! You built a spoiled brat who couldn't survive a single month in the real world! She'll come back crawling! She always comes back!"
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I didn't turn around. Supported by my father's strong arm, I walked down the stone path toward the waiting SUV. But as Marcus pulled the vehicle away from the curb, I looked into the side mirror. Trevor was standing on the porch, dialing his phone furiously.
I knew then that this wasn't the end of a nightmare. It was the declaration of war.
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