Ch.10: The Trap Snaps Shut

The room spun. Not from vertigo, but from the sudden, terrifying realignment of my reality.

Thorne didn't release my wrist. His grip was iron, his thumb pressing hard against my radial pulse as if he were taking my vitals while simultaneously contemplating breaking my arm.

"Mrs. Higgins," he said, his voice deceptively calm. "Take the child to the secondary nursery. Use the adrenaline nebulizer if her breathing stridor returns."

"Yes, Doctor." Higgins scrambled to obey, clutching Daisy to her chest like a shield. She threw one last fearful glance at me before fleeing the room.

The door clicked shut.

I was alone with him.

"Let go of me," I said, trying to yank my hand back.

He didn't let go. He pulled me closer, forcing me to step into his space. The smell of his cologne was overpowering now—sandalwood masking the metallic tang of something else. Something chemical.

"You saved her life," he murmured. "Efficiency. Precision. Ruthlessness. You broke the cartilage in her sternum with those compressions. I felt it."

"I did what I had to do."

"A nanny would have been afraid to hurt her. A medical professional knows that pain is the price of survival."

He released my wrist, but only to reach into the pocket of his silk robe.

My heart slammed against my ribs. Was he reaching for a scalpel? A syringe?

He pulled out a small, rectangular card.

It was my fake ID. The one I had hidden in the false bottom of my suitcase. The one that said *Mara Kovic.*

He held it up to the light, flipping it over with a disdainful flick of his fingers.

"Mara Kovic," he read. "Deceased. Car accident in Prague, three months ago. A tragic loss."

The air left my lungs.

"You... you went through my things."

"Of course I did," he sneered. "Did you really think I'd let a stranger sleep under my roof without a full audit? My security team found this within an hour of your arrival."

He took a step forward, backing me against the changing table. The hard edge of the wood dug into my spine.

"So the question isn't *if* you're lying," he whispered. "The question is *who* you really are."

I looked around for a weapon. The medical kit was still spilled on the floor. Scissors. Scalpel. Too far away.

"I needed a job," I lied, my voice trembling. "I bought the ID online. I didn't know—"

"Stop." He held up a hand. "Don't insult my intelligence with poverty pleas. You didn't come here for money. You came here for access."

He loomed over me, his shadow swallowing me whole.

"Who sent you? Was it the Medical Board? A rival pharmaceutical company? Or..." He paused, a cruel smile touching his lips. "...is it personal?"

I stayed silent. If I spoke, I would scream.

"It doesn't matter," he said, answering his own question. He tossed the fake ID onto the floor. "Because you're not leaving."

"You can't keep me here," I said, trying to muster some bravado. "I'll scream. The police—"

"The police believe Mara Kovic is dead. And as for the woman standing in front of me..." He leaned in close, his breath hot on my ear. "...she doesn't exist."

He reached out and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye.

"I have a problem, you see. My staff is incompetent. They panic. They hesitate. But you... you have the hands of a surgeon and the instincts of a killer."

He released me and stepped back, smoothing his silk robe.

"I don't care who you really are, Elena. Or whatever your real name is. You have a skill I need. You're not the Nanny anymore."

He pointed to the door. Not the exit. The door to the West Wing.

"Welcome to the Lab."