THE BILLIONAIRE’S FAKE PREGNANCY: Two Bellies Hit The Floor At The Gala, But The Little Boy’s Secret Whispered In The Dark Was Far More Terrifying

"DUCK!" Julian roared.

He slammed his foot down on the accelerator of the heavy SUV. The twin-turbocharged V8 engine screamed into life, the heavy tires biting into the slick pavement and sending plumes of water backward as the six-ton vehicle surged forward like a battering ram.

*CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!*

Automatic rifle fire erupted from the treeline, sparks detonating across the ballistic windshield. The reinforced multi-layered glass spiderwebbed instantly into white, opaque fractures, but held firm against the high-velocity rounds. Vanessa shrieked, curling into a ball in the footwell, her hands clamped over her ears as lead hammered against the vehicle's armored hull like hail.

Julian didn't brake. He steered blindly by the glowing red HUD display on his dashboard, aiming the center of the heavy steel bumper directly at the gatehouse barrier.

*BOOM!*

The SUV obliterated the wooden security barrier, smashing the timber into splinters, sideswiping an armed guard who vaulted into the ditch to avoid being crushed. The vehicle tore through the gravel driveway, fishtailing wildly around the willow trees before Julian pulled the emergency brake, spinning the heavy truck 180 degrees to form a shield between the front doors of the mansion and the incoming fire from the gatehouse.

"Bravo Team! Execute! Execute!" Julian shouted into his tactical earpiece.

Behind them, through the darkness of the trees, the thunder of high-caliber sniper fire cracked from the perimeter. The two black security vans breached the gate behind them, Julian's elite private contractors deploying with military precision, suppressing the gatehouse guards with disciplined, controlled bursts.

"Stay down!" Julian ordered Vanessa, kicking his door open into the storm.

He stepped out into the night, the cold rain instantly soaking his tactical vest. A mercenary in gray camouflage stepped onto the stone porch of the mansion, raising an MP5 submachine gun.

Julian didn't hesitate. His suppressed .45 fired twice with dull, mechanical coughs—*pfft-pfft.*

The rounds took the mercenary center-mass, dropping him instantly to the stone steps. Julian charged up the stairs, vaulted over the fallen body, and kicked the heavy front doors open with a splintering crash.

The grand entryway of Blackwood Manor smelled of damp masonry, mildew, and industrial floor disinfectant. The high ceilings were shrouded in cobwebs, but modern surgical lighting and thick, black high-voltage electrical cables snaked across the hardwood floors, leading down toward the stone staircase descending into the sub-basement.

Julian swapped magazines with practiced muscle memory, checking his corners. Behind him, Vanessa stumbled through the threshold, breathless, soaked to the skin, her eyes wide with terror.

"Chloe!" she screamed into the cavernous house. "Chloe, where are you?!"

"Shut up!" Julian hissed, grabbing her collar and dragging her behind the cover of a massive marble pillar. "Listen."

From deep beneath the floorboards came the rhythmic, unmistakable electronic beep of a neonatal fetal monitor—*beep... beep... beep...* followed by the low, agonizing groan of a woman in active, intense labor.

"She’s downstairs," Vanessa sobbed, lunging toward the basement door. "Julian, she’s in labor! They’re inducing her!"

Julian grabbed her arm, his eyes scanning the shadowed mezzanine above. "It's an ambush, Vanessa. Marcus knows we're here. He wants us down there."

"I don't care!" Vanessa cried, fighting against his iron grip with feral maternal rage. "That's my sister! That's your daughter dying down there!"

Before Julian could pull her back, the double metal doors at the top of the basement stairs burst open.

A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out into the dim hallway. He wore a blood-stained surgical apron over a dark turtleneck, holding a heavy chrome revolver in his right hand.

In the dim light, the streetlamps from outside illuminated the unmistakable gleam of a silver tooth embedded in his upper jaw.

"Mr. Vance," the man smiled, his accent thick with Eastern European inflection. "We were told to expect you. But Dr. Vance said you wouldn't be leaving with the package."

With terrifying speed, the silver-toothed man raised his revolver.

Julian reacted on instinct, shoving Vanessa violently behind the marble pillar as the deafening *BOOM* of the magnum round tore through the entryway. The bullet gouged a massive chunk of stone from the pillar right where Julian's head had been a fraction of a second before, stone shrapnel slicing across his cheek, drawing hot, crimson blood.

Julian dropped to one knee, pivoted around the base of the pillar, and fired three rounds in rapid succession.

Two rounds hit the silver-toothed man in the upper torso. The impact slammed the giant backward through the doorway, his weapon clattering across the concrete stairs as he tumbled down the flight of steps into the darkness of the basement.

The heavy sound of his body hitting the landing was swallowed by the screaming of a young woman echoing from the subterranean chamber below:

*"VANESSA! HELP ME! PLEASE, GOD, THEY'RE TAKING THE BABY!"*