Stuck with YOU || BECKFREEN/FREENBECK STORY

Chapter 60

Author's POV

The night had stretched long over the Armstrong-Chankimha residence. Freen sat cross-legged on the living room floor, her laptop open in front of her, notes scattered across the coffee table. Rebecca sat beside her, softly sipping a cup of tea, eyes half-closed with exhaustion. Yet even in the quiet, their hands remained intertwined—warmth and reassurance binding them together against the storm raging outside their walls.

Freen's fingers moved swiftly, checking every file, every transaction, every connection her father might have that could expose his network of threats. Names blurred together. Businesses she didn't recognize. Envelopes of cash transferred to unknown accounts. Shell companies registered under aliases. Everything pointed to the same frightening truth: Francis Chankimha had built an empire of secrets and shadows, and Freen had always been at the heart of the danger, though she hadn't realized it fully until tonight.

Rebecca leaned against her shoulder and whispered, "We'll get through this. Together."

Freen smiled faintly, grateful for the reassurance. But her mind was racing. They couldn't afford a single slip. One careless move, and her father could strike—anywhere, anytime.

Suddenly, Rebecca's eyes widened, her hand instinctively moving to her lower abdomen. "Wait... Freen... I think—our baby!"

Freen's head snapped up, confusion and curiosity mixing with concern. "Our baby? What is it?"

Rebecca's face lit up. "I... I think the baby just kicked! Did you feel that?"

Freen leaned closer, placing her hand gently on Rebecca's belly. A small, rhythmic movement brushed against her palm.

"Yes," she whispered, eyes wide with disbelief and awe. "It's... it's moving!"

Rebecca's hands trembled slightly as she laughed softly, the sound light and musical against the tension-filled room. "It's so tiny... but it's strong already. Can you believe it?"

Freen's chest swelled with a mixture of relief, love, and renewed determination. "I can believe it. That's our baby... our little fighter. And just like us... it's already fighting to stay strong."

The two women exchanged a brief, tender smile. For the first time tonight, Freen allowed herself to feel a small sliver of hope, a reminder that life existed beyond danger, beyond fear, beyond her father's control.

Rebecca's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. "You know what this means?" she asked softly.

Freen tilted her head. "What?"

"It means we're officially a team of three now," Rebecca said with enthusiasm, pressing her hand to Freen's. "And nothing... nothing is going to scare us away from each other."

Freen felt a warmth spread through her chest, even as adrenaline still simmered under her skin. This moment, brief as it was, reminded her why she had to fight. Why she couldn't back down. Her baby, her love, her mother—these were the reasons to survive.

A notification buzzed on Freen's laptop, pulling her back to reality. It was a news alert—a minor article about the crash at the hospital that had happened a week ago. The headline read:

"Mysterious Car Accident Leaves Woman Injured; Driver Escapes Unharmed"

Freen frowned, her eyes narrowing. This was exactly the kind of subtle cover her father thrived on. No one would suspect foul play. The authorities would write it off as an unfortunate accident.

Rebecca noticed the change in Freen's expression. "What is it?" she asked, worry creeping back into her voice.

Freen exhaled, leaning back slightly. "This... this is exactly what my father wants. Nothing will be traced back to him. He controls the narrative. And that... that's why we have to be smarter."

Rebecca nodded, squeezing her hand. "Then we plan. And we move carefully. We're not going to be victims."

Freen felt a rush of renewed determination. Her father had underestimated her before. He hadn't accounted for her resolve, for the life growing inside Rebecca, or for the bond they shared. They would not be victims. Not tonight. Not ever.

The two of them sat together in silence for a few minutes, the faint sounds of the city filtering through the blinds. Then, Rebecca's hand moved to her belly again. "The baby's kicking again," she said softly, smiling. "It's like it knows we're planning a mission."

Freen chuckled quietly, a sound of relief and warmth. "Maybe it's telling us we're doing the right thing."

For a brief moment, the fear lifted, replaced by the small joy of life and hope. But even as they shared this private, precious moment, Freen couldn't shake the shadow of her father's reach. He was out there. Watching. Waiting. And he wouldn't stop.

They had only just begun.