Chapter 4 - The Bellevue Gates
The private ambulance convoy arrived at the Bellevue estate at 10:00 AM the following morning under a clear, crisp autumn sky.
The property was hidden deep within a forest of tall Douglas firs, protected by twelve-foot stone walls topped with discrete security sensors. As the heavy iron gates slid open silently, a long, winding driveway lined with golden maple trees led up to a magnificent stone mansion overlooking the blue waters of Lake Washington.
I sat propped up on comfortable pillows in the back of the medical transport, staring out the window in absolute awe.
"It looks like a fortress," I whispered to the nurse sitting beside me.
"It is a fortress, Mrs. Bennett," the nurse smiled. "Mr. Blackwood had the entire property retrofitted three years ago. It’s safer than a vault."
The ambulance came to a smooth stop beneath the covered stone portico of the main entrance.
Standing on the broad steps was an older woman in a sharp navy dress—Mrs. Hughes, the estate’s head housekeeper—flanked by two uniformed nurses and Lucian himself.
Lucian stepped down to the ambulance doors as they swung open. He was wearing a dark charcoal wool sweater and dark trousers, looking relaxed, confident, and entirely in control of his domain.
"Welcome home, Ava," Lucian said warmly, stepping inside the rear bay to assist the paramedics as they slid my transport chair out onto the smooth stone driveway.
"It’s breathtaking, Lucian," I admitted, looking up at the high stone arches of the house.
"The ground-floor suite has been completely converted for your care," Lucian explained as he guided my chair down the wide, carpeted hallway inside. "You have French doors opening onto the private rose garden, a fully equipped medical monitoring station, and direct access to the library."
The suite was vast, warm, and flooded with natural morning sunlight. A massive king-sized bed covered in plush white silk sheets stood in the center, decorated with soft accent pillows designed to support my back and ankles. In the corner sat a nursery area—already furnished with three matching wooden cribs made of polished cherry oak.
My breath hitched in my throat as I saw the three cribs.
"You... you already bought cribs?" I asked, turning my head to look at Lucian.
Lucian paused near the doorway, a faint trace of color rising on his cheekbones.
"Mrs. Hughes insisted on preparing the nursery immediately," Lucian said, deflecting the credit smoothly, though the housekeeper standing behind him gave him a knowing, subtle smile. "She said three babies require three times the preparation."
"They are beautiful," I whispered, tears pricking my eyes. "Thank you..."
Before Lucian could answer, his chief of security—a tall, scar-faced man named Vance—stepped into the doorway, holding a secure tablet.
"Mr. Blackwood," Vance reported low. "We have a situation at the outer perimeter gate."
Lucian’s expression instantly hardened into iron. "What kind of situation?"
"Nathan Drake’s process server just arrived," Vance said, handing the tablet to Lucian. "He’s attempting to serve a formal court summons for emergency paternity testing and a temporary restraining order regarding the children."
I sat up straight in my chair, panic surging through my chest once more. "He’s already here?"
Lucian glanced at the tablet screen, his face entirely cold.
"Vance," Lucian instructed softly. "Take the summons from the process server. Tell him it has been received by my legal counsel. Then call the county prosecutor’s office and inform them that Nathan Drake is currently under federal investigation for corporate tax evasion."
I gasped. "Tax evasion?"
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Lucian looked back at me, his eyes holding a dark, brilliant spark of intelligence.
"Did you really think I didn't look into your ex-husband’s books before I stepped onto that bus, Ava?" Lucian asked quietly. "Nathan Drake has been hiding twenty million dollars in offshore Cayman accounts for three years. He didn't just cheat on you—he cheated on the government."
