Chapter 2 - The Penthouse on the Lake
The words echoed in Marcus's mind like a thunderclap across a silent sky.
Grace Vance.
His late wife, the heiress to the Vance bio-pharmaceutical trust, who had supposedly died in an emergency delivery room in Zurich seven years ago, leaving him with only one infant daughter, Lily.
Without a second thought, Marcus swept Emma into his arms. She was terrifyingly light, her tiny bones pressing against his chest like fragile twigs. He unbuttoned his heavy black cashmere coat, wrapping it securely around both Emma and Lily as he stood up to his full height.
"Viktor," Marcus barked, his voice razor-sharp and commanding.
Viktor rushed forward from the tree line, his hand on his headset. "Yes, Boss?"
"Lock down the park perimeter. Pull every traffic camera within a three-mile radius from 4:00 AM this morning. Find the woman named Karen Vance. And call Dr. Harrison to the penthouse immediately with a full pediatric trauma and mobile genetic testing kit."
"Understood, Mr. Blackwell," Viktor replied, barking orders into his radio as the armored SUV pulled up to the curb.
Inside the reinforced vehicle, the heat blasted through the vents. Lily sat on the leather bench beside Emma, holding her hand, gently sharing a box of warm butter cookies from her backpack. Emma ate with ravenous, hesitant bites, her wide emerald eyes darting around the luxurious interior as if expecting someone to snatch the food away.
Twenty minutes later, the convoy pulled into the underground private garage of the Blackwell Tower on Lake Shore Drive.
The private elevator carried them straight to the top-floor penthouse—a sprawling, sixty-room sanctuary overlooking the glittering waters of Lake Michigan.
Waiting in the private master medical wing was Dr. Evelyn Harrison, the Blackwell family’s chief physician, accompanied by two pediatric nurses.
"Set her on the examination table, Marcus," Dr. Harrison instructed, her eyes widening in stunned disbelief as she looked at Emma’s face, then looked at Lily standing beside her. "My God, Marcus... she’s identical."
"Run the full panel, Evelyn," Marcus ordered, standing by the glass partition, his fists clenched tightly in his pockets. "Dehydration, malnutrition, soft tissue scans, and a certified expedited DNA profile against Lily and me."
For forty-five minutes, Dr. Harrison worked with gentle precision. They administered warm intravenous electrolytes, cleaned the grime and scratches from Emma’s arms and legs, and dressed her in a soft, oversized fleece pajama set provided by the housekeeping staff.
When Dr. Harrison stepped out of the room, her expression was grim yet resolute.
"Severe dehydration and first-degree malnutrition, Marcus," Dr. Harrison reported quietly. "She hasn't had a proper meal in weeks. Her wrist shows faint bruising consistent with being restrained or grabbed roughly. But she has no chronic internal damage. We stabilized her blood sugar. She’s asleep in the guest suite with Lily."
May you like
"And the genetic swab?" Marcus asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"The mobile PCR sequencer will have the 24-locus marker results in four hours," Dr. Harrison said, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Marcus... prepare yourself. If this child is who she looks like, your entire past was built on a lie."
