I gave birth completely alone—until the doctor saw my newborn son’s face and started crying like he had just seen someone who was supposed to be dead.

Dr. Wright immediately stepped in front of my hospital bed, putting his towering frame between the intruders and my baby. "Get out of this room, Harold," Michael demanded, his voice lethal and cold. "You have no authority in this hospital anymore."

Dr. Vance chuckled softly, adjusting the golden cufflinks on his wrists. "Oh, Michael. You were always so hopelessly naive. You spent thirty years staring at charts and playing the brilliant surgeon while completely blind to the real operations running this facility."

"You stole my son!" Michael roared, his fists balling up at his sides. "You and Martha Brooks faked Daniel's death, forged my signature, and sold my bloodline!"

"Martha didn't buy him, Michael. She was an asset who kept her mouth shut," Vance corrected smoothly, taking a slow step forward while his two guards remained by the door. "Thirty-two years ago, this hospital was on the brink of financial insolvency. I established a very lucrative network connecting wealthy, desperate couples with infants whose records could easily be... erased. Martha wanted a child, and in exchange for her silence regarding the dozens of infants we moved through the neonatal wing, I allowed her to take your boy."

I gasped in horror, clutching my sleeping baby tighter against my breast. Dozens of infants. Mercy Creek hadn't just been a hospital; under Vance, it had been the epicenter of an illegal infant-trafficking operation.

"You monster," I spat, my voice laced with venom. "You destroyed dozens of families!"

Vance turned his icy gaze toward me, dismissing my outburst with a flick of his wrist. "I built an empire, young lady. And I protected it for three decades. But seven months ago, your boyfriend—little Ethan, or Daniel, as Michael likes to call him—started snooping through Martha's old records. He became a liability. And now, he's driving straight into a trap."

My blood ran cold. "What did you do to Ethan?!"

Vance checked his gold wrist watch with absolute indifference. "My associates have been monitoring Ethan's phone calls since he entered Ohio state lines. We intercepted his location ten minutes ago. When his vehicle reaches the icy bridge over Creek Crossing down Highway 23... his brakes are going to fail. A tragic accident on a slippery winter evening. Such a shame."

"No!" I shrieked, panic erupting in my chest.

Michael didn't hesitate. With a feral roar of paternal fury, he lunged forward, slamming his entire body weight into Dr. Vance. The two older men crashed heavily against the wall, knocking over a tray of stainless-steel surgical instruments. Scissored clamps and metal bowls clattered loudly across the floor.

"Emily! Take the baby and run!" Michael screamed, wrestling Vance to the ground.

One of the burly guards in dark trench coats immediately drew a black handgun from inside his jacket, stepping toward my bed. "Stay right where you are, girl!"

Before the guard could raise the weapon, the heavy delivery room door slammed inward with explosive force, striking the second guard directly in the face. The guard stumbled backward, blood spurting from his shattered nose.