Taylor’s every move was under his watch. He’d set Taylor up, feeding him just enough information to make him panic, then dropped the bomb that Grace was in the hospital, fighting for her life. He even made it easy for Taylor to sneak in, as if the coast was clear. All of it was a carefully laid trap.
Taylor knew exactly what that painting meant. The contest had been locked down, almost no one had ever seen the original works he and W had created. If his painting got out now, his entire life would implode. Bronwen’s crew was still out there, watching every step. If they saw the painting, they’d figure out in no time that it wasn’t his work. His reputation, his status, everything he’d built would be gone. Even his mentor and the whole art circle would be dragged down with him.
His mentor had already torn into him, demanding he clean up this mess before it got any worse. If he didn’t, he’d be kicked out for good.
Cornered and desperate, Taylor only had one thing left to do. He came to the hospital to find Grace, pushed there by Conrad’s schemes and his own dead-end situation.
Taylor slipped into the hospital room and shut the door behind him, locking it tight. He acted like he was cleaning, but really he was checking for cameras. Finding none, he glanced up at the huge window above.
Wiona stepped back without thinking. A big, steady hand rested lightly on her back.
“He can’t see you,” Conrad murmured.
From outside, the window looked pitch black. No matter how bright it was inside, not a trace of light could escape. Taylor had no clue anyone was watching. To him, the room above seemed empty. After a moment, he relaxed and looked away.
Wiona let out a breath she’d been holding.
“But how can I hear what he’s saying?” she asked quietly. “And what if he hurts Grandma Grace? What if she… What if something happens? Wouldn’t that cause trouble for you?”
Conrad was caught off guard for a second. Was she worried about him? He found himself watching her a little longer than he meant to, until she turned her gaze away and mumbled, “I think someone’s coming.”
It was Jean. She returned to the ward and found the door locked from the inside. She rattled the handle hard.
“What’s going on in there?”
Conrad finally pulled his attention away. He crossed to the desk, picked up a remote, and pointed it at the window. One click, and every sound from the room below came through, sharp and clear. Even the soft beeps of the monitors filled the air.


VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Divorced and Pregnant My New Life with a Billionaire Drives My Ex Crazy