Chapter 4 - Three Babies, One Deadly Conspiracy
Roman’s men moved us before the police reached the hospital.
The triplets were placed inside an armored vehicle with two medics, Donovan, Roman, and me. No sirens. No marked cars. We disappeared through an underground exit while officers crowded the main entrance above us.
I sat between Leo and Sofia, holding Adrian against my chest.
Roman sat opposite me with dried blood near his temple.
“You need stitches,” I said.
“It’s a scratch.”
“It’s still bleeding.”
He pressed a folded handkerchief against it.
“Better?”
“No.”
“Then try not to look at it.”
I stared at him.
He stared back.
For one second, the impossible weight of everything between us almost disappeared.
Then Donovan’s phone rang.
He answered, listened, and looked toward Roman.
“We found Daniel Hayes’s financial records.”
My stomach tightened.
Roman lowered the handkerchief.
“Speak.”
“Large deposits began eighteen months before the pregnancy. Payments were routed through six shell companies.”
“How much?”
“Eight hundred thousand dollars.”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“That’s not possible.”
Donovan turned the phone screen toward me.
Daniel’s name appeared above a list of transfers.
I recognized the bank.
We had shared an account there before he insisted on separating our finances.
“He told me his company had given him a promotion,” I whispered.
“What company?” Roman asked.
“Lakeshore Medical Logistics.”
Donovan’s expression changed.
“That company handled biological transport for St. Catherine’s fertility wing.”
My grip tightened around Adrian.
Roman watched my face.
“Did Daniel ever discuss your treatment with anyone?”
“He said his employer had a partnership with the clinic. He told me we qualified for a reduced price.”
“Who referred you?”
“Daniel.”
Roman leaned forward.
“He brought you into the program.”
I shook my head.
“He wanted children more than I did.”
The words tasted bitter now.
“He painted the nursery himself. He read parenting books. He talked to my stomach every night.”
“People can love what they plan to sell,” Roman said.
I looked at him sharply.
“You don’t know that he sold them.”
“No,” Roman replied. “But someone paid him enough to betray something.”
The SUV passed through iron gates.
Beyond them stood a stone mansion overlooking Lake Michigan. Armed guards lined the driveway. Cameras followed the vehicle from every angle.
“This is your house?” I asked.
“One of them.”
“Of course it is.”
Roman almost smiled.
The triplets were taken upstairs to a secure nursery. I refused to leave until I had checked every window, closet, and door.
Roman stood in the doorway while I inspected the locks.
“You think I would bring them somewhere unsafe?”
“I think someone attacked a hospital to get them.”
“They will not enter here.”
“You sound very sure.”
“I designed the security.”
“That is not the same as being invincible.”
His expression darkened.
“I know.”
The answer held more pain than anger.
I turned toward the children.
Leo and Adrian were asleep in separate cribs. Sofia resisted until I rested my hand against her back.
Within minutes, her breathing softened.
Roman watched.
“She has never fallen asleep that quickly.”
“She’s exhausted.”
“She screamed for three months after she arrived.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“The doctors called it colic.”
“And you?”
“I thought she was searching for something.”
His eyes moved to me.
“Someone.”
The nursery door opened.
Donovan entered with a tablet and a sealed evidence bag.
Inside was a silver necklace.
My stomach dropped.
“That belonged to Daniel.”
A small compass pendant hung from the chain.
I had given it to him on our second anniversary.
“Where did you get it?”
“From Mrs. Carver.”
I stood so quickly that the chair scraped across the floor.
“You found her?”
“Alive,” Donovan said. “Barely.”
Roman stepped closer.
“Where?”
“An abandoned warehouse near the river. Our people are bringing her here.”
“Did she talk?”
“Only one sentence.”
Donovan looked toward me.
“She said Pamela was never supposed to survive the delivery.”
Silence filled the room.
Roman’s hand closed around the edge of the crib.
“What happened during my delivery?” I asked.
Donovan placed the necklace on the dresser.
“According to the official file, you hemorrhaged and lost consciousness.”
“I remember that.”
“But the medication chart was altered. You were given more than twice the safe sedative dose.”
Roman turned slowly.
“They tried to kill her.”
Donovan nodded.
“The attending physician signed the order.”
“Name.”
“Dr. Malcolm Shaw.”
I knew that name.
He was the man who had told me my children were dead.
I sat down because my legs would no longer hold me.
“He held my hand.”
Roman crouched in front of me.
“What?”
“When he told me the babies died, he held my hand. He said he was sorry.”
Roman’s voice became quiet.
“Where is he now?”
Donovan looked at the tablet.
“Still working at St. Catherine’s.”
Roman stood.
“Bring him to me.”
I grabbed his wrist.
“No.”
He looked down at my hand.
“You do not want answers?”
“I want legal answers.”
“He tried to murder you.”
“And if you kill him, we lose everything he knows.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“He will speak.”
“People say whatever stops pain. I need the truth, not a confession you forced into his mouth.”
Donovan watched us carefully.
Roman looked toward the sleeping children.
Finally, he pulled out his phone.
“Have Shaw followed. Do not touch him.”
Donovan nodded once.
It was the first time I realized Roman had changed an order because I asked.
A soft cry came from the crib.
Sofia sat up, blinking sleepily.
“Mom.”
My heart broke open again.
I lifted her.
Roman remained near the crib, close enough that her foot brushed his jacket.
She reached toward him.
“Da.”
Roman froze.
Sofia touched his cheek.
“Da.”
His eyes closed briefly.
When he opened them, the feared Roman Voss looked almost defenseless.
“Say it again,” he whispered.
Sofia patted his face.
“Da.”
I handed her to him.
He held her carefully, one hand supporting her head even though she was old enough not to need it.
“She knows you,” I said.
He looked at me.
“She knows us.”
Donovan’s phone buzzed.
The tenderness vanished from his expression.
“What?”
He read the message.
“Shaw is leaving St. Catherine’s. He has a suitcase.”
Roman handed Sofia back to me.
“Where is he going?”
“O’Hare.”
“Stop him.”
Donovan was already moving when another guard appeared in the doorway.
“Boss, there’s a woman at the front gate.”
Roman’s eyes sharpened.
“Name?”
“She says she’s Elena Markov.”
May you like
The room went cold.
“And she says she came to collect her children.”
