Sterling pushed the heavy oak door open. He was ready to unleash the full weight of the Coleman family fortune on whoever had dared to cross him. Desiree hovered behind him, a smug, expectant smirk playing on her lips.

The man on the sofa slowly turned his head. He held a glass of whiskey loosely in one hand, his posture relaxed but radiating a dangerous energy. His icy gray eyes met Sterling's.

Sterling froze. His confident stride broke, his shoulders dropping in shock. The anger on his face melted into pure disbelief.

"Brother?" Sterling breathed, the word escaping before he could stop it. "What are you doing here?"

The smirk on Desiree's face vanished. It was replaced by a look of absolute, paralyzing horror. The glass in Devin's hand, the expensive suit, the cold eyes-it all clicked into place. The man who had destroyed her career wasn't just some rich sponsor. It was Devin Ayers, the most feared man on Wall Street. Sterling's older brother.

Devin ignored her. He tossed his iPad onto the coffee table with a loud clatter. "This is your taste in women, Sterling? A woman who tries to murder babies with triple doses of Diazepam?"

Sterling's face went pale. He walked over to the table on stiff legs and picked up the iPad. He hit play on the video file already queued up.

The screen showed the ER footage. It showed Desiree's face, twisted in malice, as she swapped the vials. It showed her loading the syringe with a deadly amount of sedative. There was no denying it. The evidence was irrefutable.

Sterling's grip on the iPad tightened until his knuckles turned white. He slowly looked up at Desiree. The love, the concern, the protectiveness-it was all gone, replaced by a disgust so deep it made his stomach churn.

Desiree panicked. She threw herself at Sterling's feet, grabbing his trousers. "Sterling, please! The baby was having a fit! I was just trying to help her! It was a mistake!"

In the bedroom, Kenzie rolled her eyes. "A mistake? She practically salivated when she pushed the plunger. This woman's IQ is lower than my current body weight."

Devin heard the thought and a faint smirk touched his lips. He stood up, walking over to stand beside his brother, looking down at the sobbing woman.

Sterling kicked her hands away. He wiped his leg as if he had been touched by something filthy. "A mistake? Your degree is a fake. You buy drugs on the street. And you try to kill infants. You're going to jail."

He pulled out his phone, his fingers shaking with rage. He dialed the number for his bank's concierge service.

"This is Sterling Coleman. Freeze the supplementary black card. Number ending in 4589. Immediately. And suspend all trust fund allowances linked to Desiree Dillon."

The confirmation on the other end was the final nail in the coffin. Desiree collapsed onto the floor, her makeup running down her face in black streaks. She looked like a clown whose circus had burned down.

"You can't do this!" she shrieked, her voice raw and desperate. "I saved your life, Sterling! You promised you'd take care of me! You owe me!"

The words hit Sterling like a physical blow. The memory of the car accident, the smoke, her pulling him from the wreckage-it flashed in his mind. He remembered her pulling him from the twisted metal, her face strangely calm amidst the chaos, almost as if she had expected it. But the trauma of the night had always overshadowed that detail. His shoulders slumped. The righteous anger flickered, replaced by guilt.

Kenzie saw the change in his posture. "Oh, no," she thought, groaning internally. "The idiot is feeling guilty. Don't fall for it, you fool!"

Devin saw it too. He stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "Sterling-"

Desiree saw her opening. She clutched her chest, her eyes rolling back. She started gasping, her body convulsing on the floor. "I can't breathe! My heart! Sterling, my pills are at the apartment! Please!"

She writhed on the carpet, putting on an Oscar-worthy performance of a panic attack. Sterling hesitated for only a second. The guilt won. He couldn't let the woman who saved his life die on the floor in front of him.

He bent down and scooped her up in his arms. She buried her face in his neck, her body still shaking with fake sobs.

"I'll take her home," Sterling said, his voice tight. He looked at Devin, his expression a mix of shame and defiance. "I'll handle this, Devin. But I have to make sure she doesn't die first."

He didn't wait for a response. He carried her out of the lounge and down the hall to the elevator. The doors closed behind them, leaving Devin standing alone in the silent room.

The rain was coming down harder now, turning the city into a blur of lights and water. Sterling carried Desiree into the underground parking garage, his jaw clenched tight. He dumped her unceremoniously into the back seat of the Rolls-Royce.

"Gus, her apartment. Fast," Sterling ordered, sliding into the seat beside her and slamming the door.

The car pulled out into the chaotic Manhattan traffic. The wipers beat a frantic rhythm against the windshield. Inside the car, the silence was suffocating.

Desiree was still gasping, her hand clutching her chest. But when Sterling turned his head to look out the window, her gasps stopped. Her face smoothed out. The fear and pain vanished, replaced by a cold, predatory calculation.

Up in the VIP suite, Kenzie was pressed against the glass, her tiny hands leaving prints on the window. She stared down at the black car disappearing into the city. She closed her eyes and pushed her mind out, stretching her telepathic abilities to their absolute limit.

Static crackled in her brain. The distance was making the connection fuzzy. Then, like a radio tuning into a station, Desiree's thoughts blasted into Kenzie's mind, loud and clear.

"You idiot," Desiree was thinking, a triumphant sneer in her mental voice. "You actually fell for it. You're taking me right where I want you to go."

Kenzie's heart dropped. She listened in horror as the plan unfolded in Desiree's twisted mind.

"The GHB is in the liquor cabinet. Just one drink and you'll be putty in my hands. The cameras are already rolling. 360 degrees, high definition. By morning, every board member of the Coleman Group will have a copy of you in bed with me."

Kenzie broke out in a cold sweat. GHB. The date rape drug. It was colorless, odorless, and completely destroyed a person's ability to resist or remember.

"Once the video is out, you'll be begging to marry me to save the family name. And half the trust fund will be mine," Desiree's thoughts gloated.

Kenzie snapped her eyes open. She screamed in her mind, a desperate, piercing warning. "She's setting you up! It's a honey trap! GHB in the drinks! Cameras in the bedroom! She's going to film you and blackmail the entire family!"

Devin was standing by the window, lighting a cigar. The lighter flame paused an inch from the tip. The words "GHB," "cameras," and "blackmail" hit him like a physical force.

He let the lighter snap shut. He didn't doubt the voice. Not anymore. But the implications were staggering. A sex tape involving the Coleman heir would be a disaster of nuclear proportions.

"You have to stop him!" Kenzie yelled, her mental voice raw with urgency. "Once he drinks that, it's over! The stock will tank! The board will revolt! You'll lose billions!"

The mention of the stock price and the billions was the final push. Devin's eyes went cold. He crushed the unlit cigar in his fist, grinding the expensive tobacco into dust over the carpet. He pulled out his phone and dialed Sterling's number.

It rang. And rang. And went to voicemail.

In the back of the Rolls-Royce, Desiree smiled. Her hand was in her purse, her finger resting on the button of a small, portable signal jammer. She always kept the jammer with her when meeting Sterling, a precaution to ensure their private conversations remained private and couldn't be tracked by corporate spies. Tonight, however, it served a much darker purpose. She had come prepared.

Sterling looked at his phone, seeing the "No Signal" icon. He tossed it onto the dashboard in annoyance. "Dead zone," he muttered.

Devin tried again. And again. Nothing. The calls weren't even going through.

"She's jamming the signal!" Kenzie realized, panic clawing at her throat. "She's not taking any chances! Devin, she's going to destroy him! You have to go! Now!"

Devin didn't need to be told again. He turned on his heel, his coat flaring out behind him. He strode out of the room, his face a mask of lethal intent.

"Arthur!" he barked as he hit the hallway. "Get the car. The fastest one. Now!"

Devin walked into the hospital room and scooped Kenzie up from the window seat. He turned and shoved her into the arms of the startled head nurse, who had just walked in to check her vitals.

"Watch her," Devin ordered, his voice like gravel. "If she gets a single scratch, I will shut this hospital down and sell it for scrap."

The nurse went white, clutching the baby to her chest. "Yes, sir! Of course, sir!"

Devin turned and headed for the door. His long legs ate up the distance, his body coiled with explosive energy.

Kenzie struggled in the nurse's arms. This wasn't part of the plan. Devin was going in blind. He didn't know where the drugs were. He didn't know where the cameras were. He would walk into Desiree's trap just like Sterling.

"You idiot!" Kenzie screamed in her mind, thrashing her tiny limbs. "You can't just kick the door down! She'll have the cameras hidden! If you don't find the evidence, she can claim Sterling attacked her! You need me!"

Devin's stride faltered. He was at the elevator bank, his finger hovering over the call button. He heard the baby's thoughts loud and clear. She was right. Without the physical evidence of the cameras and the drugs, it would just be his word against hers. And a rich man accusing a poor doctor of entrapment wouldn't play well in the press.

But taking a sick infant on a tactical raid was insane.

"Bring me!" Kenzie insisted, her mental voice frantic. "I can pinpoint the cameras! I can read her mind! I'm your radar! You're flying blind without me!"

Devin's jaw clenched. He looked back at the squirming baby in the nurse's arms. He weighed the risk to the child against the risk to his family's empire. The empire won.

He strode back and snatched Kenzie from the nurse. "Shut up," he muttered, holding her close. "Arthur," Devin barked, turning to his bodyguard. "You follow one block behind in the SUV. If anything happens to me, your only priority is the child. You get her out. Understood?" Arthur nodded grimly. Devin shifted his grip, using his broad chest and the thick layers of his wool coat to create a protective barrier around Kenzie's fragile body. "If you throw up on my coat, I'm leaving you on the side of the road," he added, though the careful way he shielded her head belied the harsh words.

Kenzie immediately stopped struggling. She nestled into his neck, a smug satisfaction warming her chest. "Deal. Let's go, tyrant."

Devin hit the elevator button. They plummeted down to the underground garage. A sleek, black Aston Martin DBS was waiting, its engine already growling like a caged beast. Arthur was standing by the driver's door, but Devin pushed him aside.

"I'm driving. You follow with the team," Devin snapped. He opened the passenger door and quickly strapped Kenzie into a top-of-the-line car seat that had magically appeared in the back. He buckled the five-point harness with quick, efficient movements.

Kenzie looked around the interior. The leather, the carbon fiber, the rumble of the V12 engine. "Not bad," she thought, impressed. "Zero to sixty in three point four seconds. Might actually make it in time."

Devin slid into the driver's seat. He heard her thought and a grim smile touched his lips. "Hold on, little monster."

He slammed his foot on the gas. The Aston Martin roared and shot out of the garage, the tires squealing against the wet concrete. They hit the street, and Devin wrenched the wheel, weaving through traffic with a terrifying precision.

Kenzie's tactical mind kicked into high gear. She stared out the windshield, calculating distances and traffic patterns. "Turn right! Take Sixth Avenue!" she yelled in her mind. "Broadway is a parking lot right now! The theaters just let out!"

Devin saw the wall of red taillights ahead. He didn't hesitate. He cranked the wheel, the car drifting sideways through a narrow gap in traffic. They shot down Sixth Avenue, the engine screaming.

"Left on 50th! Cut through the park! It's faster!"

Devin obeyed, the car jumping the curb slightly as they carved a path through the city. They were a bullet tearing through the heart of Manhattan, driven by a man who owned the city and navigated by a baby who used to protect it.