Chapter 2 - THE MAFIA BOSS RECEIVED A TERRIFYING THREAT AGAINST HIS NEWBORN TWINS—BUT WHEN HE FOUND THE DOCTOR HIS DEAD WIFE HAD SECRETLY MET, HER CONFESSION REVEALED WHO HAD BEEN INSIDE THE HOSPITAL ALL ALONG
Roman D'Angelo had received death threats before.
They had arrived in envelopes without return addresses, through anonymous phone calls, and occasionally from men foolish enough to deliver them in person. He had learned to recognize the difference between a genuine threat and an attempt to provoke him into making a mistake.
But nobody had ever threatened his children.
He stood in the nursery at twelve seventeen in the morning, reading the message on his phone for the fourth time.
IF YOU WANT YOUR TWINS TO LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO LEARN HER NAME, STOP ASKING QUESTIONS.
His hands were steady.
That frightened him more than trembling would have.
He knew this kind of calm. It was the silence that arrived before he did something he could never undo.
For years, Roman had trusted that silence. It had made him effective, feared, and extraordinarily wealthy.
Tonight, it was dangerous.
Because somewhere in a neonatal intensive care unit, his son was breathing with the assistance of a machine, and his daughter was sleeping beneath a warming blanket.
Neither child could protect themselves.
Neither child had any idea that someone had already decided their lives were useful bargaining chips.
Roman called Malcolm.
"Come back to the house."
Malcolm answered immediately. "What's happened?"
"Someone threatened Ella and Luca."
There was a pause.
Then Malcolm said, "I'm on my way."
Roman ended the call and walked toward the nursery window.
Beyond the glass, the Hudson River was a black ribbon beneath the winter sky. The grounds were illuminated by security lights. Men moved along the perimeter, their figures appearing and disappearing between bare trees.
He had built an entire world around the belief that danger could be kept outside a gate.
Naomi had died inside one of the most sophisticated hospitals in New York.
His children were still there.
And someone had known exactly when to send a message that would reach him at his weakest moment.
He looked down at Naomi's letter on the dresser.
Please find out what they were trying to hide.
For the first time, Roman wondered whether the woman he'd betrayed had spent her final weeks trying to protect their family from something he had brought into their lives.
The thought nearly brought him to his knees.
***
Malcolm arrived twenty-three minutes later with Daniel Price.
They found Roman in the nursery, still holding his phone.
Daniel read the messages without speaking.
Then he examined the photograph of Naomi outside the Manhattan café.
"Do you recognize the woman beside her?"
Roman shook his head.
"No."
"Could be Dr. Sloan."
"Then find out."
Daniel looked at him carefully.
"We'll do that. But first, we need to preserve the messages and report the threats."
Roman's jaw tightened.
"Report them to whom?"
"The police."
"Someone is threatening my children, Daniel. Do you understand what that means?"
"Yes."
"No, I don't think you do."
Daniel set the phone down.
"I understand that you have the resources to send a dozen armed men into the city before sunrise. I also understand that if you do, you may destroy evidence, frighten witnesses, and give whoever sent those messages exactly the chaos they want."
Roman stared at him.
Malcolm said nothing.
Daniel continued.
"Your children need their father to make good decisions. Not impressive ones. Good ones."
For a moment, the room seemed to contract around Roman.
He looked at the empty cribs.
Then he nodded.
"Call the police."
Daniel picked up his phone.
Roman turned toward Malcolm.
"I want hospital security reviewed. Every visitor authorization, every person with access to the neonatal unit. Coordinate with the hospital. No one intimidates the staff."
Malcolm nodded.
"And Sabrina?" he asked.
Roman looked toward Naomi's letter.
"She stays away from my children. If she contacts us, everything goes through the attorneys."
"Understood."
Roman sat in the rocking chair.
It creaked beneath his weight.
Naomi had chosen it after spending forty minutes testing chairs in a furniture showroom. She'd insisted the most expensive one was uncomfortable and purchased this plain wooden rocker instead.
Roman had laughed at her.
She'd told him that money was useful only when it helped people live better.
He had forgotten that conversation until now.
***
At six thirty the following morning, Roman returned to the hospital.
He had slept for forty minutes, still wearing the clothes from the previous day.
The neonatal unit smelled faintly of antiseptic and warm linen. Nurses moved quietly between incubators, checking monitors and adjusting equipment.
Margaret Ellis looked up when he arrived.
"Good morning, Mr. D'Angelo."
"How are they?"
"Your daughter had a peaceful night. Your son is still receiving respiratory support, but his oxygen requirements have improved a little."
Roman released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Can I see them?"
"Of course."
He followed her into the unit.
Ella was awake.
Her tiny mouth opened and closed as though she were preparing to complain about something.
Roman leaned toward the incubator.
"Your mother used to make that face when I forgot our anniversary."
Margaret smiled.
"Did you forget it often?"
"Once."
"That was enough?"
"She mentioned it for eleven years."
He almost smiled.
Then the grief returned.
It was strange how quickly ordinary memories could become unbearable.
Margaret guided his hand toward Ella.
The baby stretched her fingers.
Roman touched her palm.
"Good morning, sweetheart."
He stood there for several minutes before turning toward Luca.
His son lay beneath a small blanket, a breathing-support interface secured carefully around his face.
Roman watched the rise and fall of his chest.
"Is he in pain?"
Margaret explained what the medical team was monitoring and how they assessed discomfort in premature infants.
Roman listened closely.
He asked questions.
He repeated the instructions back to her.
When she finished, he nodded.
"Thank you."
She studied him.
"You're learning."
Roman looked at his son.
"I should have started a long time ago."
Margaret's expression softened.
"You started when they needed you."
Roman wanted to believe that was enough.
But he knew better than anyone how much damage could happen before a man finally decided to change.
***
At eight fifteen, Dr. Evelyn Park asked Roman to join her in a consultation room.
A hospital security administrator was waiting.
Daniel Price sat beside him.
Roman looked from one face to another.
"What's happened?"
Dr. Park folded her hands.
"We've been informed of the threats against your children. We're taking them seriously."
Roman nodded.
"Good."
"The hospital has restricted visitor access to the neonatal unit. All nonessential requests involving your children's information will be reviewed."
The security administrator added, "We're also examining an unusual access request submitted yesterday morning."
Roman went still.
"What request?"
"A person identifying herself as an authorized family representative asked for the twins' room assignments and medical status."
"Who?"
The administrator hesitated.
"The request came from a woman named Sabrina Voss."
Roman felt the familiar coldness settle behind his ribs.
"She is not family."
"We understand that now."
"Did anyone give her information?"
"No medical information was released. The staff member referred the request to administration."
Roman looked at Daniel.
Daniel's expression was grave.
Dr. Park continued.
"Mr. D'Angelo, I need you to understand something. Your children's care will remain independent of your family's business matters. We will cooperate with law enforcement, but we will not allow outside pressure to interfere with treatment."
Roman met her eyes.
"That's exactly what I want."
She appeared surprised.
Then she nodded.
"Good."
***
At nine forty-two, Daniel received a call from Boston.
Dr. Rebecca Sloan had returned his message.
She would speak to Roman, but only with an attorney present and only if the conversation took place somewhere secure.
Roman wanted to leave immediately.
Daniel stopped him.
"She didn't say she would talk today."
"Then convince her."
"Roman."
"What?"
"She sounded frightened."
Roman was silent.
Daniel continued.
"If she's been hiding because someone threatened her, pushing too hard may make her disappear again."
Roman rubbed his forehead.
"Tell her we can provide protection."
"Protection from whom?"
Roman looked at him.
"That's what I intend to find out."
***
Meanwhile, Sabrina Voss was sitting in the back room of a private club on the Upper East Side.
Her cream-colored coat hung over a chair.
The gold bracelet Roman had given her lay on the table.
Across from her sat Tristan Cade.
At thirty-four, Tristan had inherited his father's sharp features and expensive taste, but none of his patience.
He wore a charcoal suit and kept checking his phone.
"You made a mistake going to the hospital," he said.
Sabrina folded her arms.
"I didn't know Naomi was going to die."
Tristan looked up.
"Don't say her name."
"Why?"
"Because I don't like hearing it."
Sabrina laughed bitterly.
"You didn't seem bothered by her name when you were asking me questions about her appointments."
Tristan's expression hardened.
"Lower your voice."
She leaned forward.
"Roman threw me out. Do you understand that? He looked at me like I was something disgusting."
"Then perhaps you shouldn't have smiled when his wife died."
Sabrina stared at him.
For a moment, the mask slipped.
"I waited fourteen months."
Tristan said nothing.
"I listened to him talk about his marriage. I sat alone on holidays. I watched him buy Naomi jewelry while telling me she was only part of his public life."
"And you believed him?"
Sabrina's cheeks reddened.
"He said he loved me."
Tristan looked almost amused.
"Roman D'Angelo loves control. He loves his reputation. And now, apparently, he loves two premature babies."
Sabrina reached for her handbag.
"I'm done."
Tristan's voice stopped her.
"Sit down."
She froze.
He slid a photograph across the table.
It showed Sabrina entering Whitmore Fertility through a side entrance four months earlier.
Her face drained.
"Where did you get that?"
Tristan smiled.
"From the same people who helped you obtain Naomi's records."
"I never asked to be part of anything criminal."
"No. You only asked how to make a married man choose you."
Sabrina stared at the photograph.
Tristan leaned closer.
"You don't get to walk away because your feelings got hurt."
***
By noon, Roman had learned something else about Naomi's final weeks.
Her personal assistant, a woman named Caroline Bell, arrived at the D'Angelo estate carrying a small cardboard box.
She had worked for Naomi for six years.
Her eyes were red.
"I should have brought this yesterday," Caroline said.
Roman invited her into the library.
"What is it?"
"Things Mrs. D'Angelo asked me to keep."
Roman looked at the box.
"Why didn't she leave them here?"
Caroline hesitated.
"She said she didn't want anyone going through them."
Roman felt a familiar wave of shame.
He had spent months making Naomi feel alone inside her own marriage.
Now he was discovering how much of her life she'd learned to protect from him.
He opened the box.
Inside were receipts, appointment cards, a small notebook, and a flash drive sealed in an envelope.
Roman picked up the notebook.
The first pages contained ordinary reminders.
Pick up vitamins.
Call Mom.
Ask Dr. Park about delivery options.
Then the entries changed.
October 8.
Someone at the clinic called. Said there was a discrepancy in the records. Wouldn't explain.
October 12.
Sabrina was at the restaurant again. Roman says it's business. I don't believe him.
Roman stopped reading.
His throat tightened.
Caroline looked away.
He forced himself to continue.
October 16.
I think the clinic knows something about the embryo transfer. Rebecca Sloan wants to meet. She sounded scared.
October 19.
Met Rebecca. She gave me a name and told me not to trust the clinic's new investors.
October 20.
Roman came home late. I wanted to tell him everything. He looked exhausted. I couldn't find the words.
Roman closed the notebook.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Caroline said quietly, "She was trying to decide whether to confront you."
Roman looked up.
"About Sabrina?"
Caroline nodded.
"She knew."
He stared at the notebook.
"How long?"
"I don't know exactly."
Roman swallowed.
"Did she hate me?"
Caroline's eyes filled.
"No."
Somehow, that answer hurt more.
"She was angry," Caroline continued. "She was heartbroken. But she didn't hate you."
Roman looked down.
"She should have."
Caroline shook her head.
"Mrs. D'Angelo wasn't interested in punishing you. She wanted the truth."
Roman pressed his fingers against his eyes.
He had spent years believing that secrets were necessary to keep his family safe.
Naomi had spent her final weeks surrounded by them.
And now she was gone.
***
That afternoon, Daniel examined the flash drive.
It contained copies of correspondence between Naomi and Dr. Sloan, along with a document labeled EMBRYO TRANSFER AUDIT.
Daniel opened the file.
The report was incomplete.
Several pages were missing.
But the remaining sections contained enough information to make him sit straighter.
"Roman, you need to see this."
Roman moved beside him.
The document listed laboratory identification numbers, storage dates, and chain-of-custody records.
One entry had been flagged.
A specimen associated with Naomi's final treatment had been transferred between storage units without a complete authorization record.
Roman frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Daniel chose his words carefully.
"It means the documentation doesn't fully account for how one specimen was handled."
"Was something switched?"
"We don't know."
"Could the babies—"
Roman stopped.
He couldn't finish the question.
Daniel turned toward him.
"Roman, listen to me. A documentation discrepancy is not proof that anyone altered the treatment. We need an independent medical review before drawing conclusions."
Roman stared at the screen.
"But someone tried to hide it."
"Possibly."
"And Naomi knew."
"She knew there was a question that hadn't been answered."
Roman stepped away.
He looked toward the window.
For eleven years, he'd believed that money could solve almost any problem.
Now the most important facts of his life were locked inside medical records he couldn't understand.
He turned back.
"Find someone independent. Someone who doesn't owe the Cades, Whitmore, or me anything."
Daniel nodded.
"I already have a specialist in mind."
***
At five thirty, Dr. Sloan agreed to meet.
The location was a small conference room in a Boston law office.
Roman flew there with Daniel and Malcolm.
He refused to bring an armed entourage.
For once, he wanted a witness to see a grieving husband rather than a crime boss.
Dr. Sloan arrived wearing a dark blue coat and carrying a leather folder.
She was in her late forties, with tired eyes and the cautious movements of someone who had spent months expecting trouble.
Roman stood.
"Dr. Sloan."
She nodded.
"Mr. D'Angelo."
"Thank you for coming."
She looked at Daniel.
"Before we begin, I need to know whether this conversation is being recorded."
Daniel shook his head.
"Not without your consent."
She sat.
Roman remained standing.
"Did you meet my wife?"
Dr. Sloan looked down.
"Yes."
"Why?"
She opened her folder.
"Because I found discrepancies in the laboratory records associated with her treatment."
Roman sat slowly.
"Discrepancies involving what?"
"Specimen identification and access logs."
"Did someone switch something?"
Dr. Sloan met his eyes.
"I don't know."
Roman's jaw tightened.
She continued.
"What I do know is that certain records were amended after the treatment occurred. The amendments were not supported by the usual documentation."
"Who made them?"
"That information was removed from the version I was allowed to review."
Roman leaned forward.
"Who had access?"
"Several employees. Senior laboratory staff. And administrators."
"Anyone connected to the Cades?"
Dr. Sloan hesitated.
"After the investment, the clinic hired a new compliance director."
"Name?"
"Adrian Mercer."
Daniel looked up.
"Mercer?"
Dr. Sloan nodded.
"Formerly employed by a Cade-owned healthcare company."
Roman's expression darkened.
"What happened when you reported it?"
"I was told the matter had been reviewed internally."
"And?"
"I was instructed not to pursue it."
"By whom?"
"Helena Whitmore."
Roman sat back.
The room was silent.
Dr. Sloan continued.
"I filed a complaint with the licensing authority. Two weeks later, my contract was terminated."
"Did they threaten you?"
She looked toward the door.
"Not directly."
Roman waited.
"Someone followed my daughter home from school."
Malcolm's face changed.
Dr. Sloan swallowed.
"Then I received a photograph of her standing outside our house."
Roman looked down at his hands.
The same method.
The same fear.
Someone had been using families to silence people long before Naomi died.
***
"Why did you meet Naomi?" Roman asked.
Dr. Sloan looked at him.
"Because she called me after receiving the warning."
"Did you tell her everything?"
"I told her what I could verify."
Roman leaned forward.
"What did she say?"
Dr. Sloan's eyes filled.
"She asked whether her babies were safe."
Roman felt something inside him break.
"What did you tell her?"
"That I had no evidence the pregnancy itself had been affected. I urged her to continue her obstetric care and to seek an independent review of the clinic records."
Roman looked away.
Dr. Sloan continued.
"She was frightened. But she was also very determined."
He closed his eyes.
"That sounds like Naomi."
"She said she wanted to protect her children."
Roman pressed his hand over his mouth.
Dr. Sloan hesitated.
"Mr. D'Angelo, there's something else."
He looked up.
"She asked me whether someone could use those records to challenge the babies' parentage."
Roman went still.
"Why would she ask that?"
Dr. Sloan opened another folder.
"Because she had received an anonymous letter."
She slid a photocopy across the table.
Roman read it.
The message was brief.
YOUR HUSBAND'S NAME ON A BIRTH CERTIFICATE WON'T CHANGE WHAT HAPPENED AT WHITMORE.
Roman stared at the paper.
"Who sent this?"
"We don't know."
Daniel examined the copy.
"Did Naomi keep the original?"
Dr. Sloan shook her head.
"She said she would give it to her attorney."
Roman looked at Daniel.
"Find out which attorney."
Daniel nodded.
***
On the flight back to New York, Roman sat alone near the window.
Malcolm occupied the seat across the aisle.
Daniel reviewed notes at a small table.
Roman had spent the entire meeting fighting the urge to demand certainty.
He wanted someone to tell him the babies were his.
He wanted someone to tell him Naomi hadn't been manipulated.
He wanted someone to promise that her death had nothing to do with the people surrounding the fertility clinic.
But nobody could honestly give him those answers yet.
He looked down at a photograph on his phone.
Naomi, seven months pregnant, standing in the kitchen with flour on her cheek.
She had been attempting to bake bread.
The result had been terrible.
Roman had eaten two slices anyway.
He remembered her laughing when he asked for more.
He remembered how she had placed his hand against her stomach.
"Feel that?"
He had felt a small movement beneath his palm.
"Which one?"
"Probably our daughter. She's already bossy."
He had kissed her.
For one brief moment, there had been no Sabrina.
No business meetings.
No secrets.
Just his wife and the children they had waited so long to meet.
Roman closed the photograph.
Then he looked at Malcolm.
"I want Sabrina questioned."
Malcolm nodded.
"By the police?"
"Yes."
Malcolm studied him.
"You're serious about doing this differently."
Roman looked toward the dark window.
"My children deserve a father who doesn't make every problem worse."
***
At eleven fifteen that night, Sabrina received a call from Roman's attorney.
She was staying in a luxury apartment owned by Tristan Cade.
When she heard the lawyer's name, her stomach tightened.
The attorney explained that investigators had questions about her requests for Naomi's medical information.
Sabrina tried to sound offended.
"I was worried about Roman."
The attorney remained calm.
"Then you should have no difficulty explaining the requests."
Sabrina ended the call.
For several seconds, she stared at the phone.
Then she dialed Tristan.
He answered on the third ring.
"What?"
"They're asking questions."
"About what?"
"The records."
Tristan was silent.
Sabrina continued.
"Roman knows."
"How much?"
"I don't know."
Tristan cursed.
Then he said, "Don't talk to anyone."
"They have lawyers."
"Then get one."
Sabrina's voice shook.
"Tristan, what did you do?"
A pause.
"What are you talking about?"
"Naomi. The clinic. The records. What did you actually do?"
Tristan laughed without humor.
"You wanted Roman to leave his wife."
"I wanted him to choose me."
"And I gave you a way to make that happen."
Sabrina felt cold.
"What does that mean?"
Tristan lowered his voice.
"It means you should stop asking questions before you discover something you can't live with."
The call ended.
Sabrina stared at the screen.
For the first time, she understood that she'd been useful to Tristan only as long as she could reach Roman.
And now that Roman had rejected her, she had become a liability.
***
The following morning, Roman received a call from Dr. Park.
His heart nearly stopped when he saw the hospital number.
"Is something wrong?"
"Mr. D'Angelo, your son had a difficult period overnight, but he's responding to treatment."
Roman closed his eyes.
"Is he going to be okay?"
"We're doing everything appropriate for him. I wanted you informed directly."
"I'll be there."
He ended the call and immediately left for the hospital.
When he arrived, Luca was still receiving respiratory support.
The nurses were monitoring him closely.
Roman stood beside the incubator.
"Hey, buddy."
His voice shook.
"It's Dad."
He placed his hand against the clear wall.
"You don't have to be strong for me."
Tears moved down his face.
"I know everybody keeps saying you're a fighter. But you're allowed to be tired."
He looked at the tiny boy.
"Your mom would know what to say."
Roman swallowed.
"I wish she were here."
For several minutes, he stood quietly.
Then Margaret approached.
"Would you like to sit?"
He nodded.
She brought him a chair.
Roman sat beside his son.
He stayed there through the morning.
He didn't take business calls.
He didn't ask Malcolm for updates.
He simply watched Luca breathe.
***
At noon, Ella was stable enough for Roman to hold her against his chest under the nurses' supervision.
Margaret helped position the baby carefully.
Roman looked terrified.
"She's so small."
"Support her head."
"I am."
"Relax your shoulders."
"I don't know how."
Margaret smiled.
"Try."
He took a breath.
Ella settled against him.
Her warmth spread through his shirt.
Roman looked down at her.
"Hi, sweetheart."
The baby made a tiny sound.
He smiled through tears.
"Your mom was right. You're definitely the boss."
Margaret stepped away to give them privacy.
Roman sat quietly, feeling his daughter's breathing against his chest.
For the first time since Naomi died, the future seemed like something other than an empty hallway.
It was frightening.
Uncertain.
And very small.
But it was there.
***
That evening, Daniel arrived with another discovery.
He found Roman in the hospital family room.
"We located Naomi's attorney."
Roman looked up.
"Who?"
"Elizabeth Hart. Estate planning and family law."
"Did Naomi meet with her?"
"Twice in October."
Roman frowned.
"Why?"
Daniel sat across from him.
"According to the attorney, Naomi was concerned about the clinic's records and wanted to protect the twins' legal interests."
Roman's throat tightened.
"What did she do?"
"She prepared documents confirming Naomi's wishes regarding guardianship and medical decision-making if something happened to her."
Roman stared at him.
"She thought she might die?"
Daniel shook his head.
"Not necessarily. She was facing a high-risk pregnancy and wanted arrangements in place."
Roman looked down.
"Who did she name?"
"You."
He looked up sharply.
"Me?"
Daniel nodded.
"She named you as the children's primary guardian and decision-maker, with Teresa as an alternate if necessary."
Roman covered his face.
Naomi had known about Sabrina.
She had known he was betraying her.
And still, she had trusted him with their children.
Daniel waited.
Then he said, "There's one more thing."
Roman lowered his hands.
"What?"
"Naomi gave Elizabeth an envelope to be opened only if someone challenged the twins' parentage."
Roman went still.
"What's inside?"
"Elizabeth wouldn't disclose the contents over the phone. She wants to meet you tomorrow."
Roman stared at him.
"Why?"
"Because Naomi specifically instructed her to."
***
That night, Roman returned home briefly to shower and change.
He walked through the quiet house.
Every room reminded him of Naomi.
The kitchen where she'd danced.
The library where she'd fallen asleep reading.
The staircase where she'd stood on Christmas morning, laughing because he'd bought enough decorations for a department store.
He stopped outside their bedroom.
For eleven years, he'd slept beside her.
Now the bed was empty.
He entered.
Her perfume still lingered faintly near the dresser.
Roman sat on the edge of the mattress.
He looked at the photograph on her nightstand.
Naomi was smiling at the camera.
He had taken the picture during a vacation in Italy.
She'd been thirty-two.
He remembered thinking she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
Then he remembered the fourteen months he'd spent pretending that loving her and betraying her could somehow exist together.
He picked up the photograph.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
The room remained silent.
Roman bowed his head.
"I don't know how to fix what I did."
He waited.
Of course, no answer came.
He placed the photograph back on the nightstand.
Then stood.
He couldn't repair the marriage he'd broken.
He couldn't bring Naomi back.
But he could stop lying.
To himself.
To his children.
And to everyone who had helped him pretend that his choices had no consequences.
***
At eight the following morning, Roman arrived at Elizabeth Hart's office.
The attorney was a composed woman in her fifties with silver-framed glasses and a direct manner.
She invited him into a private conference room.
"Mr. D'Angelo, I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you."
She placed a sealed envelope on the table.
"Naomi asked me to give you this if questions arose concerning the twins."
Roman stared at the envelope.
"Did she explain why?"
"She said she had reason to believe someone might try to use the fertility clinic's records against your family."
Roman swallowed.
"Did she name anyone?"
Elizabeth hesitated.
"She mentioned a woman."
Roman's expression hardened.
"Who?"
"Sabrina Voss."
For a moment, he couldn't breathe.
Elizabeth continued.
"Naomi believed Ms. Voss had been attempting to obtain private medical information."
Roman looked down.
"She knew about the affair."
Elizabeth's expression softened.
"Yes."
He closed his eyes.
Then asked, "What did she want me to know?"
Elizabeth pushed the envelope toward him.
Roman opened it carefully.
Inside were several documents.
A letter.
And a sealed laboratory report.
He unfolded the letter first.
Roman,
If you're reading this, someone has probably tried to make you doubt our children.
Please don't let them.
Whatever anyone says about the clinic, whatever they claim about the records, remember that Ella and Luca are ours in every way that matters.
I asked for an independent review because I wanted answers, not because I doubted our family.
There's something I never told you.
I discovered that Sabrina had been contacting people at Whitmore.
I don't know what she wanted, but I believe she was working with someone who had access to my treatment information.
I was going to confront you.
Then I decided I wanted the truth before I made any decisions about our marriage.
Roman, I loved you.
But love does not mean I didn't see what was happening.
I saw more than you thought.
And I deserved better than the silence you gave me.
He stopped reading.
His vision blurred.
Elizabeth waited.
Roman continued.
I don't know what our future would have been.
Maybe we would have found a way back to each other.
Maybe we wouldn't.
But I wanted our children to know that their mother was not afraid of the truth.
Please be brave enough to face it too.
Naomi.
Roman lowered the letter.
For a long time, he stared at the table.
Then he opened the laboratory report.
Elizabeth leaned forward.
"Before you read that, I should explain something."
Roman looked up.
"The report was commissioned independently. It reviewed the available identification records and certain retained samples, but it does not answer every question about what happened at Whitmore."
Roman nodded.
"All right."
He read the first page.
Then the second.
The findings did not establish that the twins were unrelated to Roman.
But they identified a serious inconsistency in one laboratory record.
A record that should have contained a routine authorization signature had been replaced.
And the replacement had been entered under the credentials of a staff member who was not working that day.
Roman stared at the name.
ADRIAN MERCER.
The same man Dr. Sloan had identified.
The same man connected to a Cade-owned healthcare company.
Roman looked up.
"Who authorized the replacement?"
Elizabeth shook her head.
"That's what Naomi was trying to discover."
Roman read the report again.
Then he noticed a handwritten note attached to the final page.
Naomi's handwriting.
ASK WHY SABRINA WAS AT THE CLINIC ON JULY 14.
Roman felt the blood drain from his face.
July 14.
He remembered that date.
He had told Naomi he was attending a business conference in Philadelphia.
Instead, he'd spent the weekend with Sabrina.
He had believed the lie belonged only to his marriage.
Now he understood that someone might have used his absence for something far more dangerous.
***
Roman left the attorney's office carrying Naomi's letter and copies of the records.
He called Daniel.
"We have a date."
"What date?"
"July fourteenth."
Daniel paused.
"What happened?"
Roman looked toward the traffic moving along Fifth Avenue.
"Sabrina was at Whitmore Fertility."
"How do you know?"
"Naomi found out."
Daniel was silent.
Roman continued.
"And the laboratory records were altered under Adrian Mercer's credentials."
Daniel took a breath.
"Roman, we need to get that information to investigators."
"I know."
"Do not confront Sabrina."
Roman closed his eyes.
"I know."
Daniel hesitated.
"Are you all right?"
Roman looked down at Naomi's letter.
"No."
It was the first honest answer he'd given anyone in years.
***
Across the city, Sabrina Voss stood in front of a bathroom mirror.
She had not slept.
Her phone had been ringing all morning.
Tristan Cade.
Unknown numbers.
A lawyer she'd never met.
She ignored them all.
Then a message arrived.
A photograph.
It showed her entering Whitmore Fertility on July 14.
Beneath it were five words.
HE KNOWS WHERE YOU WERE.
Sabrina's hands began to shake.
She dropped the phone onto the sink.
A second message appeared.
YOU HAVE UNTIL MIDNIGHT.
She stared at the screen.
Then the phone rang.
Tristan.
This time, she answered.
"What do you want?"
His voice was cold.
"Roman has the records."
Sabrina swallowed.
"How do you know?"
"Because someone inside the investigation told me."
She closed her eyes.
"Tristan, I didn't know what you were doing."
"You knew enough."
"No."
"You wanted Naomi out of the way."
"I wanted Roman to leave her. I never wanted her dead."
Silence.
Then Tristan laughed softly.
"Be careful, Sabrina."
Her stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"Because that's the kind of sentence people remember."
The call ended.
Sabrina stood motionless.
For the first time, she wondered whether Naomi's death had been more than a medical tragedy.
And whether she had helped create the circumstances that made it possible.
***
At the hospital, Roman sat beside Luca's incubator.
His son's condition had stabilized after the difficult night.
Dr. Park had explained that the next several days would require continued monitoring.
Roman listened.
He asked questions.
Then he sat quietly.
His phone vibrated.
A message from Malcolm.
SABRINA HAS REQUESTED A MEETING.
Roman stared at the screen.
A second message followed.
SHE SAYS SHE HAS INFORMATION ABOUT JULY 14.
Roman looked toward his son.
Then typed:
TELL HER TO SPEAK TO THE INVESTIGATORS.
He put the phone away.
For years, Roman D'Angelo had believed that the most powerful man in the room was the one who could make everyone else obey.
Now he was beginning to understand something different.
Sometimes power meant refusing to let anger decide what happened next.
Sometimes it meant trusting people whose job was to uncover the truth.
And sometimes it meant sitting beside a premature baby, holding his tiny hand, while the world outside threatened to collapse.
Roman leaned toward Luca.
"Your mother was brave," he whispered.
The baby moved slightly beneath the blanket.
Roman smiled sadly.
"Braver than me."
He looked toward Ella's incubator.
"But I'm trying."
***
That evening, Daniel received a call from the detective assigned to the threats.
Sabrina Voss had agreed to an interview.
She had brought an attorney.
And she had made a startling claim.
On July 14, Tristan Cade had arranged for her to enter Whitmore Fertility through a private administrative entrance.
He told her she would be shown records proving Naomi had concealed something from Roman.
Instead, Sabrina claimed, she was asked to sign a confidentiality agreement and leave her phone outside a laboratory office.
She waited for nearly an hour.
When Tristan returned, he carried a sealed folder.
He told her the contents would eventually give Roman a reason to leave his wife.
Sabrina said she never saw what was inside.
But she remembered one detail.
A man in a white coat had emerged from the laboratory and told Tristan:
"Everything has been updated. The original authorization is gone."
Daniel listened carefully.
Then asked the detective, "Did she identify the man?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
"Adrian Mercer."
Daniel closed his eyes.
The pieces were beginning to connect.
But the picture they formed was still incomplete.
***
At ten thirty, Roman returned to the D'Angelo estate.
He entered the nursery and placed Naomi's letter beside the two wooden name plaques.
Ella.
Luca.
He stood there for a long time.
Then his phone rang.
Daniel.
Roman answered.
"What did she say?"
Daniel explained Sabrina's statement.
Roman listened without interrupting.
When Daniel finished, Roman looked toward the window.
"Do you believe her?"
"I believe parts of her account can be checked."
Roman nodded.
"And the rest?"
"We investigate."
Roman was silent.
Then Daniel added, "There's something else."
Roman turned.
"What?"
"Investigators reviewed the clinic's archived access records. Adrian Mercer entered the laboratory on July 14."
Roman's jaw tightened.
"At what time?"
"Eleven forty-three in the morning."
Roman stared at the nursery wall.
"Why does that matter?"
Daniel hesitated.
"Because Naomi's final embryo-transfer documentation was amended less than twenty minutes later."
Roman closed his eyes.
Then Daniel said something that made him open them again.
"Roman, there's one more record."
"What record?"
"A payment."
Roman went still.
"From whom?"
"A Cade-controlled company."
"To Mercer?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars."
Roman gripped the phone.
Daniel continued.
"The payment was made three days after the laboratory record was altered."
Roman stared at the empty cribs.
The house was silent.
Then he asked the question that had been haunting him since Naomi's death.
"Daniel, what were they trying to do to my family?"
There was a long pause.
Finally, Daniel answered.
"I don't know yet."
Roman closed his eyes.
"But I think Naomi was getting close to finding out."
Outside, winter rain began striking the windows.
Roman looked down at his wife's letter.
She had trusted him with the truth.
May you like
And now he was finally ready to face it.
Whatever it cost.
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