Chapter 3 - BLOOD AND DNA
The master guest suite on the second floor was larger than my entire apartment. A massive king-sized bed sat in the center, flanked by soft rugs and expensive silk sheets.
I couldn't sleep. I couldn't even lie down.
Instead, I sat in the middle of the large bed, surrounded by my three children. Lucas was curled against my left hip, Leo was snoring softly against my right side, and Bella was sound asleep across my chest, her tiny thumb tucked firmly into her mouth.
For fourteen months, I had gone to sleep in a silent, freezing room, staring at an empty crib I couldn't bear to sell. I had cried until my eyes bled, mourning three little angels I thought were sleeping in a cold, dark graveyard.
Now, breathing in their sweet, milky scent, feeling the gentle rise and fall of their tiny chests, I felt a fire ignite inside my soul—a fierce, terrifying mother’s wrath that made me feel capable of burning the world to the ground.
A quiet knock echoed at the bedroom door.
"Come in," I whispered softly.
The door swung open, and Damian stepped inside. He had stripped off his suit jacket and tie; his dark dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing dark tattoos creeping up his wrists. In his hand, he carried a silver metallic briefcase.
Beside him walked a tall, professional woman in a white lab coat, carrying a medical bag.
"Maya," Damian said quietly. "This is Dr. Aris Thorne. She is my personal private physician. She is not affiliated with any hospital in this city. She owes her life to my family."
Dr. Thorne offered a warm, sympathetic smile. "Hello, Maya. I'm here to conduct the official swab tests. DNA cheek swabs for you, the three toddlers, and Mr. Marchetti. The sample will be processed in my private lab under full armed guard. We will have the legally binding results in six hours."
I nodded, my voice catching in my throat. "Okay."
Dr. Thorne moved with gentle, practiced ease. She carefully took cotton swabs from sterile packages, gently rubbing the inside of Leo, Lucas, and Bella’s cheeks without waking them. Then she swabbed my cheek, placing the samples into labeled vials. Finally, Damian stepped forward, swabbing his own cheek and handing the vial to the doctor.
"No one touches these samples except me," Dr. Thorne assured us, locking the vials into the silver briefcase. "I will call you the moment the sequencing is complete."
She bowed her head respectfully to Damian and hurried out of the room, accompanied by two armed guards.
Damian walked over to the edge of the bed, standing over us. The ambient light from the balcony windows illuminated the sharp, handsome angles of his face.
"How are they doing?" he asked softly.
"They haven't woken up once," I replied, smoothing down Lucas's soft curls. "They were exhausted. Their little bodies were so stressed from crying."
Damian stared down at the children, a look of profound, aching conflict in his eyes. "For a year, I thought their crying was due to sensory issues or early trauma from losing Elena. I hired the best pediatric specialists in the country. None of them could explain why my children looked at me with such distant, terrified eyes."
"Because they knew," I murmured softly, looking up at him. "Babies remember the sound of their mother's voice from the womb. They know her heartbeat. They know her scent. When you take a newborn away from its mother, it doesn't just forget—it grieves."
Damian closed his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath. When he opened them, the cold, lethal killer was back, his dark eyes glowing with promises of blood.
"My men just finished sweeping Saint Jude's Memorial Hospital," Damian said, his voice dropping to a terrifying register. "Dr. Richard Vance suddenly submitted his resignation three hours ago. He packed his office, emptied his private bank accounts, and booked a one-way flight to Geneva departing at six o'clock tomorrow morning."
My jaw tightened. "He knows. Denny... Denny must have called someone after you kicked him out of the diner."
"Precisely," Damian agreed, a dark smile playing on his lips. "Denny called the hospital administrator to complain about me using my power to defend you. Word reached Dr. Vance that a woman named Maya Lin was standing next to Damian Marchetti, holding three hazel-eyed toddlers."
I gripped the bedsheets tighter. "He's running."
"He thinks he's running," Damian corrected coldly. "My men intercepted his vehicle on the highway twenty minutes ago. He is currently resting comfortably in a private holding facility at the docks, waiting for my arrival."
Damian stepped closer to the bed, reaching out his hand. For a terrifying second, I thought he was going to touch my face, but instead, his large, warm hand rested gently on Bella's head, smoothing her hair with unbelievable tenderness.
"I have to go down to the docks, Maya," Damian murmured, his dark eyes holding mine. "I need answers. I need to know every name, every dollar amount, and every person involved in stealing your babies."
"I'm coming with you," I said instantly.
Damian frowned, his brow furrowing. "Absolutely not. It is dangerous, cold, and not something a mother should witness."
"I sat in a hospital room for four days weeping over empty body bags, Damian!" I snapped in a fierce whisper, desperate not to wake the children. "I spent fourteen months in a living hell because that monster sold my children! I want to look him in the eye when he answers for what he did!"
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Damian stared at me, his eyes widening slightly at the sheer fire radiating from my small frame. A slow, respectful smirk spread across his face.
"You have fire in you, Maya," Damian murmured softly. "Very well. Get dressed. My sister, Sofia, is on her way here with four extra guards to guard the children. The moment she arrives... we go."
