Two days later, the room was dim. The blackout curtains were drawn to keep Victoria’s headache at bay. She lay still, listening to the hum of the fetal monitor Maya had installed.
The door clicked open. William entered, treading softly. He held a thick document bound in blue leather.
He sat on the edge of the bed. “How is the pressure?”
“Better,” Victoria murmured. “Maya says 130 over 90. Safe zone.”
She looked at the folder. “Is that it?”
William nodded. He opened the folder to the signature page. The aggressive, jagged scrawl of Julianna Vane was inked on the bottom line.
“She ran out of capital at noon,” William explained, a hint of dark satisfaction in his voice. “Her board panicked and forced her to accept our buyout offer to save their own equity. Vane-Tech is now a wholly-owned subsidiary of Croft Enterprises.”
He placed the contract in Victoria’s hands. “You didn’t just beat her, Victoria. You swallowed her whole.”
Victoria ran her thumb over the signature. The Vulture had been grounded. She placed the contract on the nightstand, next to the ultrasound picture.
“Good,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “Now I can rest.”