Chapter 4 - The Glass Tower
The headquarters of Apex Health was a gleaming sixty-story tower of blue glass and brushed steel in the heart of the financial district. To the public, it was a beacon of modern medical innovation. To the people who knew the city’s real hierarchy, it was Don Bernardo Marchetti’s private kingdom.
We arrived at 10:30 a.m.
Damian didn't sneak through back doors. He walked right through the grand glass entrance, flanked by six armed security guards in tailored black coats. I walked right beside him, dressed in a sleek charcoal coat and black silk trousers that Damian’s staff had provided. Mia was tucked securely in a sling across my chest, sleeping quietly against my ribs, while Lev and another guard carried the boys in specialized body carriers behind us.
The security guards in the lobby recognized Damian immediately. They went pale, bowing their heads and stepping away from the turnstiles without asking for identification.
“Floor forty-two,” Damian said as we stepped into the private executive elevator. “The VIP surgical suite.”
The elevator ride was silent, the digital floor indicator climbing rapidly. My palms were slick with sweat, but every time I looked at Damian’s reflection in the brushed-steel wall, his absolute composure gave me strength. He stood like a monument of dark stone, his hand resting casually inside his jacket pocket.
When the doors slid open on the forty-second floor, the smell of sterile antiseptic hit my nose, bringing back a wave of suffocating memories of the night I lost my babies.
The floor was quiet—wide, carpeted hallways lined with dark oak doors and frosted glass panels.
At the far end of the hall stood two men in heavy leather coats. When they saw Damian, their hands moved toward their armpits.
“Don't,” Lev growled from behind us, bringing a silenced pistol up with terrifying speed.
The two guards froze, raising their hands slowly.
Damian didn't even look at them as he walked past, kicking open the double wooden doors marked Private Consultations.
Inside sat Dr. Arthur Vance.
He looked older than I remembered. His silver hair was disheveled, his expensive white doctor’s coat was rumpled, and he was frantically shoving stacks of paper files and hard drives into a black leather duffel bag on his desk.
At the sound of the door crashing open, Arthur jumped, dropping a stack of papers to the floor.
His eyes swept over Damian, then over the armed guards, and finally... they landed on me.
Arthur went dead pale. The color drained from his face so fast he looked like a ghost.
“N-Nora?” he stammered, his voice thin and cracking. “Nora... what are you doing here? You shouldn't... you shouldn't be with these people.”
I stepped forward, my boots making a sharp, rhythmic sound on the polished hardwood floor. I reached down, adjusting the blanket covering Mia’s small head, letting him see her face.
“Look at her, Uncle Arthur,” I said, my voice dangerously steady. “Look at your grand-niece.”
Arthur swallowed hard, his eyes darting toward the window behind his desk, where the shadow of a helicopter landing pad was visible through the blinds. “Nora, listen to me... you don't understand what was happening. I didn't have a choice! The family... Bernardo... they threatened my life! They threatened to kill you too if I didn't cooperate!”
“Liar!” I shouted, the force of my voice shaking the glass panels in the walls. “You didn't do it out of fear! You took two million dollars! You sold my children to cover your gambling debts at Bernardo’s casinos!”
Arthur winced as if I had struck him.
“Fourteen months!” I stepped closer, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “Fourteen months I laid in that tiny room, holding an empty blanket, wanting to die every single day! I asked you if they suffered! I asked you if they cried when they were born! And you looked me in the eyes and said they never drew a single breath!”
“Nora, please—” Arthur whimpered, reaching out a trembling hand.
Damian stepped between us, his massive frame completely cutting off Arthur’s view of me.
“Dr. Vance,” Damian said, his voice terrifyingly quiet. “You have five seconds to tell me where Don Bernardo is holding the original birth records. The ones with Nora’s signature.”
Arthur backed up against his desk, his hands shaking violently. “I... I don't have them! Bernardo’s personal lawyer took them to the family estate in the Hamptons! They’re keeping them in the main vault!”
Damian nodded once to Lev.
Lev stepped forward, pulling heavy zip-ties from his pocket.
“Wait!” Arthur screamed as Lev grabbed his arms, pinning him against the desk. “Nora! Tell him to stop! I’m your family! I’m the only blood you have left!”
I looked at the man who had stolen my life, my health, and my babies, feeling nothing but a vast, cold emptiness where my affection used to be.
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“You aren't my family, Arthur,” I said quietly. “You were just the thief who delivered my children.”
Before Lev could drag Arthur out through the private service exit, the heavy glass window behind the desk shattered with a deafening CRACK.
