CHAPTER 20: BLOOD TIES AND LIES

Chloe stared at the small plastic bag of prenatal vitamins on the coffee table, the security guard’s words still ringing in her ears. Someone had tampered with them again, The same medication that had been hurting Twin B. Her hand flew to her belly, pressing hard as if she could feel the damage already happening inside.

“They’re still coming after the babies,” she whispered, voice cracking. Tears burned her eyes but she blinked them back fast, jaw clenched tight. “Even here. Even after we changed everything. How did they get to these?”

Damian was already moving, grabbing her coat from the closet and his keys. “We’re not waiting. New clinic. My private secure one across town. No shared records, no regular staff. Now.”

Chloe let him help her into the coat, her legs feeling heavy as they headed for the elevator with two guards flanking them. The car ride was silent except for the low hum of the engine. She kept one hand on her stomach the whole way, feeling for every kick, every flutter, terrified one would stop.

At the private clinic, a side entrance led them straight into a quiet exam room with reinforced doors and cameras everywhere. The doctor on duty was an older woman Damian had vetted personally, face serious but kind as she ran fresh scans and drew blood.

Chloe sat on the edge of the table after the ultrasound, legs dangling, while Damian paced near the window. “This has to stop,” she said, voice rising. “I can’t keep doing public appearances and galas and interviews while someone’s trying to poison me every other day. I need rest. Real rest. No more smiling for cameras so you can look strong to the board. The twins need me healthy, not performing.”

Damian stopped pacing and turned to her, hands flexing at his sides. She could see the struggle in his face—the need to control the situation clashing with what she was asking. “Slowing down now gives Marcus more room to push the vote. The optics...”

“Optics?” Chloe cut him off, sliding off the table and standing straighter despite the ache in her back. “Our babies’ lives are on the line and you’re still thinking about board votes? I’m your wife, not a prop. I agreed to the marriage for protection, not to become another piece on your chessboard. If you can’t give me this, then what are we even doing?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, jaw working. The silence stretched. Finally he exhaled hard. “You’re right. We slow it down. No more events until the twins are stable and we have the saboteur. I’ll handle the board my way. But you stay protected. Full security, no leaving without me or the team.”

Chloe nodded, some of the fight draining out of her shoulders. “Thank you. That’s all I’m asking for right now.”

The doctor returned with fresh printouts, closing the door softly behind her. Chloe and Damian both turned, tension thick in the small room.

“Good news first,” the doctor said. “Twin B has stabilized for now. Heartbeat stronger, growth catching up slightly. The immediate risk has lowered.”

Chloe let out a shaky breath and reached for Damian’s hand without thinking. He took it immediately, squeezing back.

“But,” the doctor continued, “the new bloodwork still shows traces of the medication. And we found something else. The tampering pattern matches internal access codes from this hospital network—codes that only staff with high clearance would have. Someone on the inside is still feeding information and possibly supplying the drugs. We’re locking down further, but the sabotage is coming from within the medical team itself.”

Chloe’s grip on Damian’s hand tightened until her nails dug into his skin. She stared at the doctor, then at the monitors still showing the twins’ heartbeats, her free hand pressed flat against her belly. *Inside the hospital. The one place we thought was safe. How do we protect them when even the doctors might be trying to hurt us?*

Damian’s jaw locked, his body going rigid beside her. The doctor kept talking about new protocols, but Chloe barely heard it. The walls of the secure room suddenly felt thinner, the beeps of the machines louder, every shadow in the hallway outside a potential threat.

She looked up at Damian, voice barely above a whisper. “We can’t trust anyone.”

********

Damian stood in the clinic’s secure admin office, arms crossed tight over his chest while the head of security pulled up internal access logs on three monitors. The doctor’s revelation about staff involvement still burned hot in his gut. Chloe rested in the next room under guard, monitors beeping steadily through the open door. He could see her silhouette, one hand on her belly, eyes half-closed but never fully relaxing.

“Cross-reference every nurse, tech, and doctor who touched her files in the last two months,” Damian ordered, voice low and sharp. “Financials, family connections, any link to my mother, Marcus, or Vanessa. Pull phone records too. I want a shortlist in the next hour.”

The security chief nodded, fingers flying across the keyboard. “We’ve already flagged three possibles. One admin with unusual overtime, a lab tech who accessed the vitamin batch room yesterday. We’re bringing them in quietly for questioning.”

Damian paced the small space, checking his watch every few minutes. Every second felt like another opportunity for the saboteur to strike again. He thought, "I brought her into this world. My family’s poison is in her veins now. I have to end it." “Double the guard on her room. No one in or out without my approval. And get me the board vote schedule. I need to know exactly when Marcus plans to strike.”

His phone rang. Marcus’s name flashed on the screen. Damian answered immediately, putting it on speaker so the security team could hear.

“Busy playing doctor, brother?” Marcus’s voice dripped with mock sympathy. “Heard about the latest vitamin scare. Shame. The board vote is in three days. Your little domestic drama is killing the numbers. Step down gracefully and maybe I’ll ease up on the bakery suppliers. Keep fighting and I’ll make sure the whole world sees every dirty page of that surrogacy contract. Including the part where you planned to pay her off and disappear her.”

Damian’s hand clenched around the phone. “You’re finished, Marcus. I know about the half-brother leverage, the payoffs, everything. Threaten my family again and I’ll bury you so deep the board won’t even remember your name.”

Marcus laughed, sharp and ugly. “Big words from a man whose wife might not make it to delivery. Tick tock, Damian. Three days.”

The line went dead. Damian slammed the phone down on the desk, breathing hard through his nose. The security chief glanced up but said nothing. Damian forced himself to focus on the logs, pointing out patterns, directing deeper searches. Hours passed in a grind of data and quiet tension until the shortlist narrowed to two strong suspects.

He finally stepped into Chloe’s room. She lay propped up on the bed, a thin blanket over her legs, eyes opening fully when he entered. The monitors showed steady heartbeats. She looked drained but alert.

“Any progress?” she asked, shifting to sit up straighter.

Damian pulled a chair close to the bed and sat, elbows on his knees. “We have leads. Two staff members with suspicious access. We’re questioning them now. I shut down Marcus on the phone—he’s pushing the board vote hard, but I’m not stepping down. Not for him. Not for anyone.”

Chloe nodded slowly, her hand resting on her belly. “Good. But it never feels like enough. Every win gets followed by another hit.”

He reached out and covered her hand with his, feeling the subtle movements underneath. The words he’d been holding back since the kitchen, since the almost-kiss, finally pushed forward. “Chloe, I need you to hear this. Not the contract. Not the protection or the image. I’m falling for you. For the woman who argues with me in boardrooms and bakes at midnight and fights like hell for our children. Not the surrogate. Not the wife on paper. You. The real one. I didn’t see it coming, but I’m not fighting it anymore.”

She stared at him, fingers curling slightly under his. Her mouth opened, then closed. No full response came. She simply held his gaze, something deep and conflicted moving behind her eyes. “Damian…”

He waited, but she didn’t finish. The silence stretched, heavy with everything unsaid. He squeezed her hand once more and stood. “We have a major public announcement tomorrow. Confirming the marriage stability, pushing back on the leaks. Rest tonight. I’ll handle the details.”

Chloe nodded, still quiet. Damian stepped out to finalize security for the announcement when a guard approached carrying a plain manila envelope.

“This just arrived for Mrs. King, sir. Anonymous courier. Marked urgent.”

Damian took it, turning it over in his hands. No return address. He opened the flap and slid out a stack of glossy photos. His blood ran cold.

The first image showed Chloe’s friend Sarah in a upscale restaurant with his mother, envelopes exchanging hands. Dates stamped weeks before Sarah’s call to Chloe. Another photo: Sarah receiving a wire transfer confirmation. A final note paper-clipped to the stack. "The introduction was never random. Your mother bought the perfect surrogate from the start. Ask Sarah how much she was paid to set you up."

Damian’s grip tightened on the photos until they creased. He looked toward Chloe’s room, where she rested unaware, then back at the damning evidence. The surrogacy, the entire foundation they’d built everything on had been manufactured from the beginning.

He stepped back into the room, envelope in hand, as Chloe looked up at him.