Ms. CEO’s Baby Daddy Is the Merchant of Death – Episode 11
Connor’s question silenced the room more effectively than a gunshot. Stephen still had one hand raised toward Scarlett, but the fury on his face faltered beneath the stranger’s stare. The man in the doorway wore the same inexpensive clothes as before, yet armed operatives stood behind him with military precision. Nothing about him resembled the poor truck driver the Hayes family believed they could dismiss.
Scarlett struggled upright and pointed toward the locked door. “Summer’s inside,” she said, her voice raw from begging. “She can’t breathe.” Those four words erased every person in the room except Connor and the child trapped beyond the wood.
Stephen stepped into his path and demanded that the intruder leave his house. He called Summer’s confinement a private family matter and insisted the child was merely being disciplined. Danielle quickly added that Scarlett had become violent and hysterical after striking her. Connor did not waste time answering either lie.
A faint wheeze reached him through the door. Years of combat had trained Connor to recognize the sound of failing lungs, and terror closed around his heart with an unfamiliar grip. He seized Stephen by the collar and moved him aside as though he weighed nothing. When two household guards advanced, Connor’s operatives disarmed them before they completed a step.
“The key,” Connor ordered. No one answered quickly enough. His gaze settled on Danielle’s clenched hand, and she instinctively hid it behind her back. Connor crossed the distance between them, forced her fingers open, and took the small brass key without laying another hand on her.
Scarlett followed as he unlocked the door. Summer lay curled on the floor, one hand pressed to her chest and the other wrapped around the children’s watch. Her lips had begun to lose color. Connor dropped to his knees beside her, and the feared leader of Dominion Tech forgot how to breathe.
He gathered Summer into his arms and checked her airway. The child’s eyes fluttered at his touch, but she could not draw enough air to speak. Connor opened the compact emergency kit clipped beneath his jacket and fitted a portable nebulizer mask over her face. He had carried the equipment because Cypher’s investigation mentioned her asthma, never imagining he would need it within hours.
“Daddy’s here,” he told her, holding the mask steady. “You stay with me, baby. You don’t get to leave after I just found you.” His voice remained calm for Summer, but Scarlett saw the rage shaking beneath each measured word.
Medication mist filled the clear mask. Summer’s breathing remained strained, then slowly deepened enough for a weak cough. Connor touched two fingers to her pulse and transmitted her condition through his earpiece. Cypher confirmed that a mobile medical unit was already waiting outside.
Scarlett sank beside them and stroked Summer’s hair. Relief broke through her control, bringing tears she had refused to shed before her family. Connor noticed the bruising across Scarlett’s arms and the way she protected her back whenever she moved. The evidence of what happened while he was racing toward them hardened his expression.
He asked who had hurt her. Scarlett tried to redirect him toward Summer, but Stephen answered with arrogant pride. Ten strikes were the proper punishment for a daughter who defied the head of her household, he declared. Connor looked at his new wife as if the words had opened another wound in front of him.
Scarlett explained that she had accepted the punishment because Stephen promised to release Summer afterward. He had broken that promise and demanded she abandon her daughter instead. Connor rose with Summer still secure against his chest. Murder lived so plainly in his eyes that even Danielle stopped pretending to cry.
Stephen recovered enough courage to threaten him. The Hayes name carried influence with police, judges, banks, and every important family in the city. If Connor touched him, Scarlett would lose her company and both she and Summer would be left with nothing. He expected poverty to frighten a man dressed like a trucker.
Connor almost smiled. “If my daughter has any lasting harm, losing your company will be the kindest thing that happens to you.” The quiet promise carried more weight than Stephen’s shouting. Around them, Connor’s operatives remained motionless, waiting for a single command.
Scarlett stared at the men, their weapons, and the medical equipment Connor had produced without hesitation. She remembered the hidden strength he had shown during the highway chase four years earlier. He had never driven, fought, or reacted like an ordinary laborer. The question she had pushed aside since his arrival now demanded an answer.
“Who are you?” she asked. Connor’s attention softened when it returned to her, but he did not reveal the truth. He told her only that he was Summer’s father and the man who should have been there sooner. Explanations could wait until both mother and daughter were safe.
He ordered Cypher to secure every camera, computer, and phone in the estate. No recording would disappear, and no member of the household would leave before his team preserved the evidence. Stephen shouted that the command was illegal. Connor carried Summer past him without acknowledging the protest.
At the entrance, the child stirred against his chest. Her fingers caught the edge of his shirt, weak but determined. Connor bent his head close enough to hear her. Summer whispered that she knew he would answer her watch.
The trust in her voice nearly broke him. He promised he would always answer, then glanced back at the family gathered beneath the chandelier. Scarlett walked beside him despite her injuries, refusing every hand except his. Together they crossed the threshold while Dominion operatives closed around them like a shield.
Just before the medical vehicle doors shut, Summer opened her eyes again. Fear tightened her small face as she looked toward the Hayes mansion. “They had my inhaler, Daddy,” she whispered. “They wouldn’t give it back because they wanted me to stop breathing.”
