Chapter 2 - The Penthouse on the Skyline
Warmth was the first sensation that returned to my body.
I opened my eyes to the soft, golden glow of a roaring stone fireplace. Above me stretched towering ceilings and panoramic glass windows revealing the sparkling nighttime skyline of Manhattan. I was lying in an expansive bed lined with plush, cream-colored faux-fur blankets, an IV drip humming quietly beside my arm.
Panic surged through my chest like electric fire.
"My babies!" I gasped, trying to scramble upright.
"Lie down," a deep, calm voice instructed from the shadows near the hearth.
I turned my head.
Elias Vance was sitting on the edge of the low fur rug in his white naval commander uniform, his hair slightly damp, looking at me with steady, unyielding intensity. Cradled safely in the crook of my arm beneath the fleece blankets were my twin girls—swaddled in warm, soft flannel, their cheeks rosy, sleeping peacefully to the crackle of the fire.
Tears of overwhelming relief spilled down my cheeks. I reached out with trembling fingers, touching their soft faces.
"They're alive..." I sobbed, collapsing back into the pillows. "Both of them..."
"Dr. Harrison treated their hypothermia and stabilized your lacerations," Elias said quietly, his large tattooed hand resting gently near the baby blankets. "You lost two units of blood, Ava. If you try to stand, you will lose consciousness."
I looked at him in fear. "You know my name?"
"I know everything," Elias replied, pulling a thick leather portfolio from the table. "Ava Miller. Twenty-four years old. Married two years ago to Gregory Thorne, an illegal sports-betting bookmaker who operates under the Marcone syndicate."
My throat tightened. "Gregory... he'll come for them."
Elias’s eyes darkened into black ice. "Why would he come for children he threw into a snowstorm?"
"Because he owes six hundred thousand dollars to the Marcone family," I whispered, tears burning my eyes. "He wanted a son to pledge as an apprentice collateral. When the midwife told him they were twin girls, he called them worthless curses. He had his men beat me to punish me for 'failing him,' then dumped us outside."
The silence that filled the penthouse was so heavy it felt suffocating.
Elias rose to his full height, walking over to the glass windows overlooking the city.
"A man who raises a hand against a mother and her newborn children is not a man," Elias said, his voice deadly quiet. "He is vermin."
Before I could speak, the private elevator chimed. Dante stepped into the living room, holding a secure encrypted tablet.
"Commander," Dante reported, keeping his voice low. "We tracked Gregory Thorne’s digital footprint."
Elias took the tablet, his eyes scanning the intercepted communications. A cold, predatory smirk touched his lips.
"What is it?" I asked, clutching my daughters closer.
May you like
Elias looked at me, his eyes full of lethal certainty.
"Your husband isn't looking for you because he regrets what he did, Ava," Elias said. "He just made a deal with Marco Marcone to sell your daughters' adoption identities to an overseas human-trafficking broker to clear his gambling debts."
