บททั้งหมดของ The Billionaire’s Surrogate Twins : บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Two hours earlier, Viktor Novak, Victoria’s dad, sat in his penthouse office overlooking the San Francisco Bay. He was on a video call with his daughter, her face focused on the screen in front of him. "The boy is becoming a liability," Viktor said in Russian, though he'd lived in America for thirty years. Old habits died hard. "He's too intelligent. Too observant. And now he's communicating with people outside the facility." Victoria sat in her bedroom, still in her nightgown, her hair perfectly styled despite the hour. "What do you want me to do?" "Create a distraction," Viktor said simply. "Something dramatic. Something that will pull Damien's focus and the security team's attention away from the hospital. Give me a window. Four hours. That's all I need to move the boy somewhere more secure." Victoria understood immediately. Her father had been teaching her the art of misdirection since childhood. Make them look here while you act there. Create chaos so the truth gets lost in t

The van was dark, windowless, the kind of vehicle that didn't draw attention. Kevin sat in the back with his hands zip-tied to a metal ring bolted to the floor. His heart monitor was still attached to his chest, the device beeping steadily despite his racing pulse. They'd kept him connected to it, probably monitoring him to make sure he didn't try anything stupid.The man who'd taken him from the hospital sat across from him, scrolling through his phone with the casual indifference of someone doing routine work. His name was Dmitri. He'd introduced himself in the elevator with a smile that didn't reach his eyes."Your sister caused quite the scene," Dmitri said, not looking up from his phone. "Shot herself in front of your brother-in-law. Very dramatic. Very effective."Kevin didn't respond. Responding only encouraged conversation, and conversation meant staying awake, staying aware. He needed to conserve his energy, needed to think."She's quite talented, your sister-in-law," Dmitri

The knock came at the front door exactly seventeen minutes after Victoria left the study.Damien and Mia had made it back to the main floor, the metal box hidden beneath a loose floorboard in Damien's office. The documents were scattered across Victoria's desk, but there was nothing they could do about that now. The video camera was in Mia's room, shoved behind the radiator."Mr. Cross?" The detective was middle-aged, professional, the kind of cop who'd seen enough wealth and privilege to not be impressed by either. "I'm Detective Morrison. We received a call about a possible shooting incident at this address?"Damien's mouth was dry. He could feel Mia standing behind him, her breathing shallow and controlled."My wife had an accident," Damien said carefully. "She's been taken care of in our medical facility in the building. It's been handled.""An accident with a firearm," Morrison said, not quite a question. He had two uniformed officers with him, both scanning the hallway with the

Damien’s phone buzzed at 3:47 AM.A text from Jake: “Call me. I found something about Viktor. I found Kevin. Not safe to discuss over the phone. Meet me tomorrow. Warehouse on 5th and Mission. Midnight. Come alone.”Damien read it three times, his heart hammering against his ribs. Kevin was alive. Jake had found him. After three weeks of searching, of coordinating with authorities in secret, of pretending everything was normal while his best friend worked the streets looking for a fifteen-year-old boy, they finally had a lead.He looked at the time and realized he had four hours until sunrise. Four hours to figure out what Jake had discovered. Four hours before everything changed.He didn’t sleep.He couldn’t respond. Couldn’t leave a digital trail. He just deleted the message and sat in the darkness, knowing that tomorrow night, everything could change.Three weeks had passed since Victoria’s fake suicide. Three weeks since Kevin disappeared from the hospital. Three weeks of Victoria

Mia woke to silence.No beeping machines. No monitors. Just the soft hum of an air conditioning unit and the sound of her own breathing.She was back in her room. Not the medical suite. Her bedroom is on the third floor. Sunlight was filtering through the curtains, which meant she’d been unconscious for hours. Maybe longer.Her head was foggy. Her mouth was dry. Her abdomen ached with a dull, persistent pain that made her not want to move.She tried to sit up slowly. The pain was manageable if she went slow. She made it to a semi-reclined position and waited for the room to stop spinning.The door opened.Victoria entered carrying a tray. She was dressed impeccably as always, her blonde hair perfect, her makeup flawless. She looked refreshed. Happy, even.“Good morning,” Victoria said, setting the tray on the nightstand. “You’ve been asleep for eighteen hours.”Eighteen hours. Mia tried to remember the last thing she was conscious for. The ultrasound. The twins. The injection. Then no