Chapter 3 - Secrets of the Separation
The Vexley Estate was a fortress. Nestled on fifty acres of private forest in Bedford, New York, it was surrounded by ten-foot stone walls, thermal security cameras, and a private security force consisting of former special forces operatives.
By the time we arrived, the storm had passed, leaving behind a thick, eerie fog that clung to the pine trees. I carried Sylvie inside, straight to the master suite. The house staff, whom Marcus had alerted ahead of time, had already prepared a nursery next door, complete with state-of-the-art medical monitors, pediatric supplies, and a private neonatal nurse I had hired on the drive over.
After the nurse, a kind woman named Clara, took the twins to be examined and fed, the master bedroom fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.
Sylvie sat on the edge of the massive canopy bed, wrapped in a plush cashmere throw. I stood by the fireplace, watching the flames crackle. The warmth of the fire did little to ease the tension in my chest.
"Why, Sylvie?" I asked, my voice cracking slightly. The anger I had buried under adrenaline was finally rising to the surface. "Why didn't you tell me? Seven months. You knew you were carrying my children, and you let me believe you hated me enough to never want to see my face again."
Sylvie looked down, her fingers tightly gripping the blanket. "Because I thought you didn't care, Damon. Look at us. The last year of our marriage, you were a ghost. You slept at the office. You missed our anniversary, my birthday, my father's funeral. When I tried to talk to you, you told me your business was more important because it secured our future."
"I was trying to protect us!" I yelled, stepping toward her. "Vanguard was trying to hostiles-takeover the company. I was fighting a war!"
"And you won the war, but you lost me!" Sylvie shouted back, tears finally spilling over. "I felt like a trophy you kept on a shelf. When I asked for a divorce, you didn't even fight for me. You just handed me over to your lawyers. You made it feel like a transaction. So when I found out I was pregnant... I was terrified. I thought you would use your billions to take them away from me, to prove I was unfit, just to hurt me."
The raw pain in her voice hit me like a physical blow.
I closed my eyes, the memory of our bitter divorce proceedings flashing through my mind. I had been hurt, my pride wounded by her departure, so I had let my lawyers handle everything with ruthless efficiency. I had wanted to show her I didn't care.
What a fool I had been.
"I would never have taken your children from you, Sylvie," I said softly, walking over to sit beside her on the bed. "Never."
"I know that now," she whispered, leaning her head against my shoulder. "But when Vanguard approached me... I was so weak. My heart condition was flaring up. They promised the gene therapy would cure me. They said it was completely safe. I didn't realize they were tracking my cycle, that they knew we had been together right before the separation. They planned this, Damon. They want to use the babies' DNA to claim patent rights over the therapy, and they want to destroy you."
I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her close. For the first time in a year, the wall between us began to crumble.
"They won't touch them," I promised, my voice fierce. "I've already contacted my legal team. We are going to file for emergency sole custody, and I'm launching a full investigation into Vanguard's clinic."
Before Sylvie could respond, my phone chimed. It was an encrypted text from an unknown number.
I opened it. It was a video file.
I pressed play. The video showed the exterior of my estate, filmed from a distance through a high-powered thermal lens. A text message appeared beneath the video:
May you like
“A beautiful fortress, Damon. But even fortresses have back doors. Sign over 51% of Vexley Pharmaceuticals by noon tomorrow, or we release the custody contract to the federal courts and the media. Let’s see how the public reacts to the great Damon Vexley kidnapping corporate assets. - V.S.”
Victor Sterling. He was already outside my gates.
