She ignored McNeil and headed into her room to change, getting ready to go out.


    She thought that once she stepped outside, at least she''d get a little peace and quiet. But to her surprise, McNeil-proud as ever-was still hanging around her ce.


    "Where do you think you''re going with that belly?" he asked, eyeing her up and down.


    She''d traded her house clothes for a smart maternity outfit-sleek, sharp, the kind you''d expect on the CEO of a Fortune 500pany, not on a gentle, soft-spoken woman. The contrast made it all the more striking, and for reasons he couldn''t quite exin, it put him on edge.


    "None of your business,” Victoria shot back. “McNeil, let''s get one thing straight— not only are we divorced, but even when you were my husband, you didn''t have the right to tell me what to do."


    It was only after the divorce that Victoria truly felt alive again. She could do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted-she''d never felt so free.


    "I''ll drive you," McNeil offered, reaching for her arm.


    Victoria jerked away. "No need. Someone''s already picking me up. I don''t need you."


    McNeil tried to keep his temper in check, but the doorbell started ringing insistently. The housekeeper opened the door, and Lyndon barged in with a rowdy group of teammates, filling the entryway with theirughter and noise.


    "Oh, it''s you lot again. What are you doing here?" McNeil demanded, exasperated. They were always hanging around Victoria, and he couldn''t for the life of him figure out what they were after.


    "Hey there, ex-brother-inw! We''re taking our boss out for a little prenatal ss," Lyndon grinned, pping Victoria on the shoulder.


    McNeil felt a vein twitch in his forehead. Prenatal ss? With this bunch? He didn''t buy it for a second.


    "Victoria—” he started, but she was already moving past him.


    "It''s gettingte," Victoria said, brushing him off. "We need to get going."


    He made to follow her, but Lyndon stepped in, blocking his path. "Sorry, Mr. Langford, but Vicky''s not Mrs. Langford anymore-you don''t really get a say in what she does."


    McNeil felt a lump in his throat. He could only watch as Victoria swept out the door, surrounded by her entourage like some kind of rock star.


    He stayed rooted to the spot long after she was gone, barely noticing the housekeeper hovering nearby.


    "Mr. Langford, Ms. Turner''s left," the housekeeper said quietly. "She told us she won''t be home for lunch, so there''s no need to prepare anything for her or for you."


    McNeil''s hands curled into fists. He took a few deep breaths, trying to get his emotions under control.


    The housekeeper trailed after him, lowering her voice. "Um, sir, Ms. Turner also said that since she''s not here, you can''t stay either. She pointed out that everything was divided up during the divorce, and she''s worried you might take something that doesn''t belong to you."


    McNeil clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ached. He yanked the door open and marched out, the housekeeper catching the door behind him.


    "Ms. Turner says don''t m the door, sir. The door''s... expensive "


    He pretended not to hear her, striding toward the elevator.


    He made it downstairs just in time to see a line of sports cars roar away from the building, engines screaming, exhaust leaving a faint haze in their wake.


    Victoria was in the passenger seat of the car at the front.


    All he caught was a glimpse of her hair before the taillights vanished. A heavy, suffocating frustration settled in his chest.


    Victoria-pregnant and running around with a group of men. What the hell was she thinking?


    She was almost thirty-was this some kind ofte-onset rebellion?


    Face dark, McNeil stormed into the garage, got into his own car, and started dialing furiously as he drove.


    "Run a trace on these license tes for me," he barked into the phone. "I want to know exactly where those cars are headed."


    He gripped the wheel, heart pounding. His sedan was no match for those sports cars—they''d disappeared before he could even get out of the parking lot.


    Ten minutester, his Bluetooth crackled to life.


    "Mr. Langford, those cars went to the rally track. There''s an international race at Evermore City today."


    McNeil''s brow furrowed. A rally race?


    A pregnant woman, instead of listening to Mozart and reading baby books at home, was headed for a racetrack? That ce wasn''t going to teach her baby anything except how to handle chaos.


    His expression darkened as he floored the gas pedal.


    He needed to find out just what the hell she was up to-before it was toote.