CHAPTER 4— THE CHILD THEY STOLE
Lydia pulled me behind the heavy curtains.
The hidden door opened.
Margaret entered.
She stood in the center of the abandoned nursery without moving.
For several seconds, she simply listened.
My heart pounded so loudly I was certain she could hear it.
Margaret crossed the room and lifted the newspaper clipping from the crib.
“You should have stayed dead,” she said.
I thought she was speaking to herself.
Then Lydia stepped out from behind the curtain.
Margaret did not look surprised.
“I wondered when you would become careless.”
Lydia’s hands trembled, but her voice remained steady.
“Where is my daughter?”
Margaret smiled.
“You’ve been asking the wrong question.”
She moved toward the rocking chair.
“You should be asking who your daughter became.”
I stepped from behind the curtain.
Margaret’s smile vanished.
“Elena.”
“Tell her.”
Margaret looked between us.
Then she laughed.
“You both think Adrian is the monster.”
“He is,” I said.
“He is weak,” Margaret corrected. “Weak men can be useful when they are taught to confuse cruelty with strength.”
Lydia moved closer.
“My daughter.”
Margaret lowered herself into the rocking chair.
“She survived.”
Lydia covered her mouth.
“She was adopted.”
“By whom?”
“By a family who believed her mother had died.”
“Tell me their name.”
Margaret’s gaze shifted toward me.
A cold wave moved through my body.
“No,” I whispered.
Margaret smiled.
“The child was adopted by Daniel and Rebecca Mendoza.”
My knees nearly failed.
Mendoza.
The surname I had used when I met Adrian.
The name of the foster family who raised me after my mother’s supposed death.
“That’s impossible.”
Margaret watched my face carefully.
“You are not Lydia’s daughter, Elena. But you knew the child.”
Memories rushed back.
A little girl named Sophie had lived with us for one year when I was twelve.
She had dark hair.
She slept with the hallway light on.
Then one morning, she disappeared.
My foster parents told me another family had adopted her.
“Where is Sophie now?”
Margaret crossed her legs.
“She works for Whitmore Capital.”
My thoughts raced through every employee I had met.
Then I remembered Claire Donovan’s young legal assistant.
Sophia Vale.
Dark hair.
A faint scar beneath her left ear.
Lydia began to cry.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
The tears simply fell.
Margaret watched with satisfaction.
“You kept her close to Victor,” she said. “You just never knew who she was.”
“Why?” I demanded. “Why take Lydia’s baby?”
“Leverage.”
Margaret’s answer came without shame.
“Adrian’s father intended to leave controlling ownership of Cross Properties to his first grandchild. Lydia’s daughter was born before he died.”
Lydia stared at her.
“My daughter owns the company?”
“She would, if anyone proved who she was.”
Suddenly, everything made sense.
Adrian’s desperate need for my trust assets.
Margaret’s forged custody documents.
The hidden nursery.
They had built their fortune by stealing a child’s inheritance.
Footsteps thundered in the hallway.
Margaret stood.
“You should have run when you had the chance.”
The door opened.
Adrian entered with two security guards.
His face changed when he saw Lydia.
For one second, the polished businessman disappeared.
“You.”
Lydia looked directly at him.
“You knew I was alive.”
Adrian closed the door.
“You were supposed to remain at the clinic.”
“You took my baby.”
“My mother handled that.”
Margaret turned toward him sharply.
Cowards always blamed someone else when the room became dangerous.
I touched my hospital bracelet.
The recorder was still active.
“Did you know Sophie inherited Cross Properties?” I asked.
Adrian glanced at me.
Then smiled.
“You’re recording this.”
My blood turned cold.
He grabbed my wrist and tore off the bracelet.
The tiny device struck the floor.
Adrian crushed it beneath his shoe.
“Did you honestly think I would make the same mistake twice?”
Lydia moved between us.
“Don’t touch her.”
Adrian shoved Lydia aside.
She struck the crib and fell.
I reached for her, but Adrian caught my arm.
Pain shot through my shoulder.
“Get her downstairs,” he ordered.
One of the guards hesitated.
“She’s eight months pregnant.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
“Do what I pay you to do.”
The guard stepped toward me.
Then Rosa appeared behind him.
She swung a brass fire extinguisher into his shoulder.
Chaos erupted.
Lydia kicked the second guard’s knee.
I pulled free and ran toward the hidden staircase.
Margaret screamed for Adrian to stop me.
I reached the landing.
Then a violent pain tore through my abdomen.
I grabbed the railing.
The hallway tilted.
“Elena!” Lydia shouted.
Blood darkened the lower part of my dress.
My son was coming early.
At the hospital, I gave birth after six terrifying hours.
My baby boy entered the world small, furious, and alive.
I named him Noah.
For the first time in years, I felt hope.
Then I woke before dawn to the sound of an alarm.
The bassinet beside my bed was empty.
A nurse rushed into the room.
“Where is my baby?”
She looked at the empty identification band.
May you like
Then at the open service elevator.
“Someone took him.”
