Chapter 3 - THE STOLEN EMBRYOS
I did not sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Vanessa drinking champagne while I lay bleeding on the floor.
Now I imagined her walking through the fertility clinic.
Signing documents.
Watching technicians carry containers marked with my name.
My pregnancy had taken four years to achieve.
Three surgeries.
Two failed cycles.
Dozens of injections.
Adrian held my hand during the first failure.
During the second, he left the hospital early for a board dinner.
By the third, he treated my grief like an inconvenience.
Still, when the clinic called to say two embryos had successfully implanted, I believed we had been given another chance.
Not only at parenthood.
At marriage.
That hope now felt contaminated.
Dr. Morgan arranged an emergency meeting with the clinic’s medical director, Dr. Stephen Lark.
He arrived pale and sweating.
“Our records show the embryos transferred to Mrs. Vale were genetically created from her eggs and Mr. Vale’s sperm,” he insisted.
Celeste slid copies of access logs across the table.
“Your electronic system shows those records were edited eleven minutes after the transfer.”
Dr. Lark stopped speaking.
“Who edited them?” I asked.
“A senior embryologist.”
“Name.”
“Dr. Peter Sloan.”
“Where is he?”
Dr. Lark looked at Celeste.
She answered.
“Missing.”
Sloan had failed to report for work two weeks earlier.
His apartment was empty.
His car was found at the airport.
No ticket had been purchased in his name.
The clinic claimed he acted alone.
Celeste did not believe them.
Neither did I.
We requested a noninvasive prenatal genetic comparison.
The test could determine whether the twins were biologically mine without endangering them.
The results would take several days.
Meanwhile, Northstar auditors entered Ardent Vale Capital.
Within hours, they uncovered money transferred through shell companies connected to Vanessa’s father, Conrad Pierce.
Conrad was not merely a wealthy businessman.
He controlled the pharmaceutical company that supplied hormonal medications to my fertility clinic.
Adrian had invested heavily in Pierce Medical Systems.
The investment lost hundreds of millions.
Northstar’s loans covered the losses.
In exchange, Conrad appeared to have promised Adrian access to a new genetic-research venture.
The twins were not part of an affair.
They were part of a transaction.
Vanessa arrived at the hospital that evening.
She wore oversized sunglasses despite the darkness.
Security attempted to stop her, but she demanded to speak with me.
I agreed.
Julian objected.
“I need to know what she thinks she knows,” I said.
Vanessa entered alone.
Without makeup and expensive lighting, she looked younger.
And frightened.
“You think I switched the embryos,” she said.
“Did you?”
“No.”
“You were at the clinic.”
“So was Adrian.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
She removed her sunglasses.
A bruise darkened one cheek.
“Adrian came to my apartment after the police released him.”
“Did he hit you?”
“He said I ruined everything.”
“You helped him.”
“I helped him hide losses. I signed consulting agreements. I attended meetings with my father.”
“And the clinic?”
Vanessa began crying.
“My father told me Adrian wanted a biological heir with specific genetic traits.”
My stomach turned.
“What traits?”
“Male. Healthy. No family history of heart disease. High predicted cognitive markers.”
“You’re describing children like investment products.”
“That’s how my father described them.”
“Were your embryos used?”
“No.”
She hesitated.
“I don’t think so.”
“Whose were they?”
“I don’t know.”
Then she reached inside her purse and handed me a flash drive.
“I copied files from Adrian’s office.”
“Why?”
“Because last month I heard him tell my father that Mara wouldn’t survive the delivery.”
The room went cold.
Vanessa’s voice dropped.
“He said once you died, he would inherit Northstar through the babies.”
I stared at her.
“He doesn’t inherit Northstar.”
“He believed he would.”
“He isn’t in my trust.”
“He said the children were.”
My hands tightened around the blanket.
Celeste had drafted the trust amendments after my pregnancy was confirmed.
The twins would inherit if I died.
But only if they were legally recognized as my children.
Adrian had not merely wanted me to carry genetically selected babies.
He planned to use them as a bridge into my fortune.
Vanessa moved toward the door.
“There’s more on the drive,” she said.
“What?”
“A recording.”
“Of whom?”
“Your husband and your father.”
I stopped breathing.
“My father died nine years ago.”
Vanessa looked at me.
“No, Mara.”
May you like
She opened the door.
“Your mother told you he died. Adrian has been meeting him for years.”
