---- Chapter 5 Miles away, in the hushed, sterile environment of a private medical helicopter, Grace Moore's eyes fluttered open. The thythmic thumping of the rotor blades was a disorienting drumbeat. The bright lights of the cabin were blinding. A man was holding her hand. He was older, with sharp, intelligent eyes and a face etched with worry. A face she hadn't seen in five years. "Dad?" she whispered, her voice a dry rasp. Hampton Hutchinson, the reclusive, legendary corporate titan, squeezed her hand gently. "I'm here, Gracie. You're safe now." The memories came rushing back in a torrent of pain and terror. The panic room. Collins. The blood. The final, crushing realization that Brogan had left her to die. "The baby," she gasped, her other hand flying to her stomach. It was flat. Empty. "My son... where is my son?" Hampton's face, usually a mask of unshakeable composure, crumbled. A deep, sorrowful pain filled his eyes. "The doctors did everything they could, sweetheart," he said, his voice thick with grief. "You had a placental abruption, made worse by the trauma. They had to perform an ---- emergency C-section to save you. But the baby... he was already gone. I'm so sorry, Grace." A keening wail escaped Grace's lips. It was a sound of absolute desolation. The fragile hope that had flickered to life upon seeing her father was brutally extinguished. Her son was dead. It was real. She turned her face away from her father, silent tears carving paths down her cheeks. The physical pain was a dull ache compared to the gaping, hollow wound in her soul. She remembered the final, desperate moments in that mansion. As her consciousness faded, a primal instinct for survival had taken over. She knew Brogan wouldn't save her. She knew the Edwards family wanted her dead. There was only one person in the world with the power and the will to help her. With the last ounce of her strength, she had used the emergency satellite phone her father had insisted she carry, a tiny device hidden in the lining of her purse. She hadn't spoken to him since she had defied him to marry Brogan, a man he had instantly distrusted. Swallowing her pride was a small price to pay for her child's life. "Dad," she had whispered into the phone, her voice barely audible. "| was wrong. Help me... please." That was all she managed to say before she passed out. But it was enough. ---- Hampton Hutchinson, a man who could move mountains with a single phone call, had unleashed his full resources. He had triangulated her position, dispatched his private medical team, and bulldozed his way through any and all of Brogan's security measures. His team had arrived just minutes after Dr. Miles had been forced to stand down. They found her lifeless on the table. They restarted her heart and airlifted her out, leaving behind a "body" for Brogan to find. It was a masterful piece of deception. A life-like decoy, a product of Hampton's vast and shadowy resources, complete with fabricated medical reports of her death. A perfect illusion designed to give Grace the time she needed to disappear and heal. But it had all been too late for her son. They landed at a secluded, private medical facility nestled in the remote mountains of Montana, a place that didn't officially exist. For days, Grace drifted in a fog of grief and sedatives. When she finally emerged, the world felt gray and muted. She would spend hours staring at a blank wall, her hands resting on her empty womb. The phantom kicks and movements were a constant, cruel reminder of what she had lost. She hated Brogan Edwards with an intensity that burned cold ---- in her chest. She hated him for his betrayal, for his weakness, for letting his sister-in-law's manipulations and his own guilt- ridden pride murder their child. One evening, Hampton came into her room. He sat beside her bed, his presence a quiet, solid comfort "We have to give him a name," Grace said, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. Hampton nodded, his eyes full of pain for her. "Leo," she whispered. "His name was Leo." Like a lion. Strong. A strength she had failed to give him. "Leo Hutchinson," Hampton said, his voice firm. "He will not carry the name of the man who killed him." The words were a validation of her pain, a sharpening of her grief into a harder, colder resolve. A few days later, they buried Leo's tiny casket in a quiet, beautiful garden on the estate grounds. It was a place overlooking a serene lake, surrounded by willow trees. A place of peace he would never know in life. Grace stood before the small, simple headstone. Leo Hutchinson. Forever Loved. She didn't cry. The tears had run dry, replaced by an arctic emptiness. She imagined the life he should have had. His first steps. His first words. The way he would have her father's ---- sharp eyes and, she once foolishly dreamed, Brogan's charming smile. All of it stolen. "He will pay for this," Hampton said, his voice a low growl of contained fury. "Brogan Edwards and his entire family. | will strip them of everything. | will grind their legacy into dust." Grace turned to her father. The soft, loving woman who had believed in fairy tales was gone, burned away in a crucible of pain and betrayal. In her place stood someone new. Someone cold, hard, and unbreakable. "No," she said, her voice quiet but ringing with steel. "I will." She looked at her father, the man she had once run from to chase a hollow dream of love. Now, she was ready to embrace her birthright. "Teach me," she said. "Teach me everything. | want to be your heir. | want to be the one to take down the Edwards Corporation. | want him to see my face when he loses everything." A flicker of pride, fierce and terrible, lit up Hampton's eyes. He saw the fire in her, the Hutchinson blood running true. "They won't know what hit them," he promised. The next six months were a blur of transformation. Grace devoured every book on finance, every report on corporate law, every strategy memo her father put in front of her. She became a ruthless student of power, her grief a relentless ---- engine driving her forward. She shed the name Grace Moore like a snake sheds its skin. She was Grace Hutchinson now, heir to an empire. Her father's intelligence network kept her informed. Brogan, consumed by guilt, had not believed the decoy for long. He discovered the ruse when the "body" began to degrade in an unnatural way. A frantic, desperate hope had seized him. He had spent a fortune, called in every favor, trying to find her. He had put out a multi-million-dollar reward for any information on the whereabouts of his "missing, beloved wife." Grace watched a video of his press conference on a tablet. He looked haggard, broken. He pleaded for her to come home, telling the world how much he loved her, how lost he was without her. She felt nothing. No pity. No satisfaction. Just a cold, empty disdain. His performance was meaningless. His pain was nothing compared to the silence where her son's heartbeat should be. "He's looking for you," Hampton said, standing behind her. "Let him look," Grace replied, not taking her eyes off the screen. "He's looking for a ghost. The woman he thinks he's looking for is dead. He killed her." She shut off the tablet and stood up, her posture straight, her eyes clear and cold. "It's time," she said. "Let's begin the takeover." Title: A Princess? No! I'm the Female General! In "A Princess? No! I'm the Female General!" by CrushReel, Adela Taylor, a noble family's daughter, disguises herself as her brother to secure their Duke title by joining the army. Despite facing obstacles, she achieves remarkable success. 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