My husband slahpped me so hard he split my lip while I was seven months pregnant, and his mother shoved me into a granite countertop until I collapsed in a pool of blood. When I begged for an ambulance, he smashed my phone and threatened to use his powerful legal connections to destroy me. But neither of them knew the poor farmer they loved mocking was actually my high-ranking father, and the call that could ruin their lives was already in motion.

I’d just finished a grueling twelve-hour shift at the hospital. My swollen feet ached, my back throbbed, and all I wanted was to rest.

Instead, the moment I stepped inside, Carter’s palm crashed against my face.

Where the hell have you been, you useless parasite? he roared. My mother is hungry! GET IN THE KITCHEN!

Blood trickled from my split lip.

His mother, Eleanor, watched from the couch with a cruel smile.

Pathetic, she sneered. If you can’t even serve your husband properly, what kind of mother will you be?

I pressed a trembling hand against my belly.

Please, Carter. I’ve been working all day. The baby’s been moving so much, and I…

SHUT UP AND COOK!

I swallowed my anger. For my baby’s sake, I obeyed.

Twenty minutes later, Eleanor took one bite of dinner and spat it onto her plate.

DISGUSTING! she snapped. My son married a worthless country girl who can’t do anything right!

I work full-time too, I whispered. I’m doing everything I can.

Her chair scraped violently against the floor.

HOW DARE YOU TALK BACK TO ME!

Before I could protect myself, both her hands slammed into my shoulders.

I stumbled backward.

My spine struck the sharp granite countertop.

A horrifying pain exploded through my lower abdomen, sending me crashing onto the floor.

Then I felt something warm running down my legs.

Blood.

So much blood.

My baby! I screamed, clutching my stomach. Carter, PLEASE! CALL 911!

He looked down at me without moving.

I grabbed my phone with shaking fingers, but he snatched it away and hurled it against the wall.

The screen shattered.

You’re not calling ANYONE! he snarled. I’m a defense attorney. My uncle is a senior prosecutor. Nobody will believe a pathetic farm girl over us!

Eleanor folded her arms.

If you miscarry, it’s your own clumsy fault!

Something inside me hardened.

For two years, I’d endured their cruelty while hiding my family’s true identity. I’d wanted a marriage built on love, not my father’s influence.

But now my unborn son’s life was slipping away.

I lifted my bloodstained face.

Call my father.

Carter burst into laughter.

Your daddy? That broke farmer? What’s he gonna do, drive his rusty tractor here?

He picked up my shattered phone. Somehow, it still worked.

Fine, princess. Let’s hear him beg!

He tapped my father’s number and switched on the speaker.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

Then the call connected…

“Hello?” my father answered.

Carter smirked. “Mr. Bennett? Your daughter’s having another one of her dramatic episodes.”

There was a pause.

Then my father’s voice changed.

“Put Amelia on the phone.”

The laughter vanished from Carter’s face.

I dragged myself closer, one hand pressed beneath my belly. “Dad,” I gasped. “I’m bleeding. They won’t call an ambulance.”

Silence.

Not shocked silence.

Dangerous silence.

“Address,” he said.

Carter rolled his eyes. “You already know where your precious daughter lives, farmer.”

“I wasn’t asking you.”

I whispered the address.

My father replied with four words.

“Help is already coming.”

Carter laughed again, but this time it sounded forced.

Then sirens screamed outside.

Not one ambulance.

Several.

Red and blue lights flooded the windows.

Eleanor rushed toward the curtains. “What the hell?”

Heavy fists pounded on the front door.

“Police! Open the door!”

Carter froze.

His face drained white.

“How did they get here so fast?”

My father’s voice remained on speaker.

“Because, Carter, my daughter’s emergency alert reached my security office eight minutes ago.”

Carter stared at the shattered phone.

“Security office?”

The front door burst open.

Paramedics rushed toward me while uniformed officers ordered Carter and Eleanor away.

One medic checked my pulse.

Another lifted me onto a stretcher.

“I’m losing my baby,” I sobbed.

“We’re going to do everything we can.”

As they carried me out, Carter suddenly grabbed an officer’s sleeve.

“This is insane! Do you know who my uncle is?”

A new voice came from the doorway.

“I do.”

Everyone turned.

A tall man in a dark overcoat stepped inside, accompanied by two federal agents.

Carter stared at him.

Eleanor’s mouth fell open.

I recognized him instantly.

My father.

But he wasn’t wearing work boots.

There was no faded farmer’s jacket.

Instead, a government identification badge gleamed against his chest.

Carter whispered, “What… are you?”

My father looked at the blood covering the kitchen floor.

Then at me.

Then at Carter.

“The man who spent twenty-seven years investigating people who believed connections made them untouchable.”

One federal agent stepped forward.

“Carter Hale, don’t leave the city.”

Carter blinked. “For what?”

The agent glanced toward Eleanor.

“Assault is only the beginning.”

My father lowered his voice.

“We found something else.”

Even Eleanor suddenly looked afraid.

Something she had never shown before.