Chapter 1 - The Boiling Point
The silver catering tray was much heavier than I'd expected. Strangely, that was the first thought that crossed my mind as I watched my mother tilt a pot of boiling milk toward my pregnant stomach.
I didn't immediately think about running, screaming, or begging someone to help me. Instead, my mind focused on the ridiculous weight of a serving tray that had been holding cucumber sandwiches at my baby shower only ten minutes earlier.
My name is Kaylee, and I was eight months pregnant when my family finally revealed how far they were willing to go for money. I was exhausted, uncomfortable, and desperately hoping that my parents and sister had finally decided to value our relationship more than my financial resources.
Outside, my husband, Mateo, was celebrating with our neighbors beneath pastel-colored balloons. My parents and younger sister had spent the afternoon smiling for photographs and behaving like a loving family, but their affection disappeared the moment we were alone inside the house.
My mother, Valyria, had spread several documents across the kitchen island. At the top of the pile was a loan agreement requiring me to personally guarantee the debts of my parents' boutique real estate company.
If I signed, my house, credit, and the financial future I'd worked so hard to secure for my unborn child could all be placed at risk. My parents had spent months insisting their business was struggling, but I was beginning to suspect their financial problems were not what they'd claimed.
Near the hallway stood my father, Arturo, holding a pair of wire cutters. He had apparently just returned from my bedroom, where he and my sister had forced open the locked drawer they believed contained my inheritance.
Behind Mom, Camila gripped a small black hard wallet with both hands. Her expression wasn't filled with guilt over betraying me, but with the nervous urgency of someone afraid her theft would be discovered before she could escape with the money.
"Sign the agreement," Mom demanded.
I looked from the documents to her face, struggling to comprehend what was happening.
"You organized my baby shower just so you could steal from me?"
She gave me a smile that never reached her eyes.
"We organized this celebration because you refused to do your duty as a daughter."
Behind her, a large pot of sweet milk simmered on the stove, prepared for the desserts being served outside. Thick steam rose from the surface, and for a brief moment, I assumed Mom was simply going to turn off the burner.
Instead, she wrapped her fingers around both handles.
"Valyria," my father said.
There was no urgency in his voice, and he made no attempt to stop her. He merely spoke her name, almost as though he understood what she was considering but wanted to see whether the threat would finally force me to surrender.
Mom lifted the pot from the stove.
"Mom, please don't," Camila whispered.
But Valyria ignored her and fixed her eyes on my swollen belly.
"Sign those papers, Kaylee, or your child will lose everything."
In that instant, I understood that my family had never intended to ask for financial assistance. They'd planned an elaborate theft, using my baby shower as cover while preparing to exploit the one person I would do anything to protect.
The agreement would make me responsible for their business debts, while the wallet in Camila's hands supposedly contained the valuable technology shares my late mentor had left me. They'd expected the broken lock upstairs to remain unnoticed until the guests departed, leaving them enough time to complete their scheme.
My unborn son was the final piece of their plan. They believed threatening his future would frighten me into signing whatever they placed in front of me.
Then my mother swung the pot.
A wave of scalding milk flew toward my stomach, and I instinctively grabbed the silver catering tray from the island. I raised it vertically across my belly just as the boiling liquid struck.
The impact echoed through the kitchen as intense heat slammed against the metal. Steam surrounded my face, and my palms burned from gripping the tray, but I refused to release it.
Most of the milk struck the tray and splashed across the floor, although some reached my shoulder and sent a sharp wave of pain through my body. My knees weakened, yet I continued holding the metal barrier in place because my unborn son was directly behind it.
At that moment, protecting him mattered more than anything else. Whatever fear I'd felt disappeared beneath an instinct stronger than pain.
Then my foot slid across the wet tiles.
The tray slipped from my hands and crashed onto the floor as I landed heavily on my hip. I immediately curled around my stomach, gasping when a powerful contraction tightened through my abdomen.
Outside, our guests continued laughing and celebrating, completely unaware of what had happened. Inside the kitchen, my father pointed toward the exit.
"Run!" he ordered.
Camila immediately fled with the black wallet, and Mom hurried after her. Arturo had barely taken two steps when Mateo burst through the patio glass, having heard enough of the commotion to realize something was terribly wrong.
My husband stopped when he saw me lying on the kitchen floor. His eyes moved across the scattered loan documents, the overturned pot, and finally my father, who was attempting to escape.
Mateo reacted before anyone could explain what had happened. He confronted Arturo and knocked him to the tiles, then turned his attention toward me.
I should have been terrified about the inheritance Camila had supposedly stolen. I should have been demanding that someone stop my mother and sister before they disappeared with my fortune.
Instead, despite the pain spreading through my abdomen, I reached for my phone.
A notification had just appeared on the screen.
DEVICE ONLINE.
I stared at those two words and realized that Camila had done exactly what I'd anticipated. She'd taken the black wallet without understanding what was hidden inside it.
My father, still lying on the kitchen floor, noticed the notification glowing on my phone. His swollen eyes shifted toward the empty hallway where Camila had escaped, and the color slowly drained from his face.
He had finally understood something that neither my mother nor my sister knew.
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The wallet Camila had stolen didn't contain my inheritance. It was a carefully prepared decoy, and the moment she carried it away, she'd activated the trap I'd designed for anyone foolish enough to steal it.
And now, that little black device had begun revealing their secrets...
