Chapter 6 - The Blood Test
"No."
Damian said it first.
Noelle stared at the ledger.
"D.M."
"No."
"Your initials are D.M."
"I can spell."
"Then explain it."
"I can't."
Noelle searched his face.
He looked genuinely shocked.
That did not calm her.
"Did you know me before tonight?"
"No."
"Have you ever been to St. Catherine's fertility clinic?"
"No."
"Did Sofia?"
"I don't know."
"Did you donate sperm?"
Damian's eyes flashed.
"No."
"Freeze samples?"
Silence.
Noelle's heart accelerated.
"Damian."
He turned away.
"Years ago."
Her stomach dropped.
"What?"
"Before Sofia's treatments."
Noelle's hands went cold.
"What treatments?"
"IVF."
"Your sperm was stored?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
He looked at her.
"St. Catherine's reproductive center."
The room seemed to tilt.
Noelle laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
"Of course."
Damian rubbed his jaw.
"It doesn't mean—"
"Test it."
"Noelle."
"Test it."
He nodded.
"Tonight."
Reyes arranged a private laboratory before dawn.
Noelle watched a technician swab Damian's mouth.
Then Luca's.
Then Matteo's.
Then Emilia's.
She stood with her arms wrapped around herself.
Damian signed the forms.
For a man who controlled rooms with silence, his hand looked unsteady.
The results would take several hours.
Nobody slept.
At seven in the morning, Noelle sat at the kitchen island eating toast she couldn't taste while Matteo repeatedly dropped blueberries onto the floor.
Teresa picked up the first four.
Noelle stopped her on the fifth.
"Leave it."
Teresa smiled.
"At last."
"What?"
"Someone understands."
Damian entered wearing a fresh shirt.
Noelle glanced at him.
"Do you own anything that isn't black?"
"Gray."
"Adventurous."
Matteo threw a blueberry at him.
It hit Damian's chest.
Noelle stared.
Teresa stared.
Damian looked down at the purple stain.
Matteo giggled.
Noelle laughed.
Damian looked at his son.
"You have chosen violence."
Matteo clapped.
For a few minutes, they were simply three exhausted adults and three messy toddlers.
Then Reyes walked into the kitchen holding an envelope.
Everything stopped.
Damian stood.
Noelle couldn't.
Her legs refused.
Reyes placed the envelope between them.
"Confirmed."
Noelle's mouth went dry.
Damian didn't touch it.
"Say it."
Reyes inhaled.
"All three children are Damian's biological children."
Noelle stopped hearing the room.
Teresa whispered something in Spanish and crossed herself.
Damian gripped the counter.
Noelle finally stood.
"How?"
No one answered.
She looked at Damian.
"How?"
"I don't know."
"You never met me."
"No."
"I never went to a fertility clinic."
"I believe you."
"Then how are you their father?"
Reyes opened the second sheet.
"The lab compared archived samples."
Damian looked at him.
"What archived samples?"
"Your fertility records."
His face darkened.
"You accessed them?"
"You told me to find everything."
Damian said nothing.
Reyes continued.
"Sample batch was stored at St. Catherine's."
"Was?"
"Destroyed according to records four years ago."
Noelle stared.
"But it wasn't destroyed."
"No."
Her stomach turned.
Damian looked at the ledger.
"Sofia."
Noelle hated the answer before he explained.
"She knew I had samples."
His voice became hollow.
"She knew where."
"Would she have access?"
"No."
"Hale would."
Damian's jaw tightened.
"And Crane."
Noelle pressed both hands on the counter.
The shape of the crime was changing.
They had not simply stolen three babies for a wealthy couple.
They had created those babies.
Using Damian.
Using Noelle.
Without either one's consent.
Her skin crawled.
"Why me?"
Damian looked at her.
That was the question.
Why had they chosen Noelle Bishop?
Reyes opened another file.
"We found your prenatal genetics screening."
Noelle frowned.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Nothing unusual medically."
He paused.
"But your obstetrician ordered extensive genetic panels you were never billed for."
Noelle's face tightened.
"I remember blood tests."
"More than standard."
Damian took the papers.
"What were they looking for?"
Reyes shook his head.
"Still working on it."
Noelle's mind moved backward through her pregnancy.
Dr. Crane had always been kind.
Too kind.
She had waived fees.
Called Noelle personally.
Made sure every appointment fit around her mother's hospice schedule.
Noelle had thought she had found the one generous doctor in Chicago.
Now every kindness looked different.
"She picked me."
Her voice was barely audible.
Damian turned.
"Crane."
Noelle swallowed.
"She transferred me to her care when my old OB stopped taking my insurance."
"You thought it was random?"
"She said a social worker referred me."
Reyes was already typing.
"Name?"
"Janet something."
Noelle squeezed her eyes shut.
"Janet Lowell."
Reyes searched.
His expression hardened.
"No licensed social worker in Illinois by that name."
Noelle laughed bitterly.
"Of course not."
Damian walked toward her.
She stepped back.
He stopped immediately.
"I'm sorry."
Noelle looked at him.
"For what?"
"For being part of this."
"You didn't know."
"My blood was used."
"So was mine."
"I should've known my samples weren't destroyed."
"How?"
He didn't answer.
"Damian."
Her voice sharpened.
"You don't get to take responsibility for every evil thing in the room just because you're used to being the most dangerous person in it."
His eyes locked onto hers.
Noelle continued.
"Someone violated you too."
His expression changed.
The concept clearly did not sit easily on him.
"You didn't agree to this."
Noelle pressed a hand to her abdomen.
"Neither did I."
The shared horror settled between them.
Not romance.
Not forgiveness.
Something deeper.
Recognition.
They had both been used.
Different ways.
Same crime.
Reyes's phone buzzed.
He answered.
Listened.
Then looked toward them.
"We found Dr. Crane."
Damian straightened.
"Where?"
"Not in Chicago."
"Where?"
"Milwaukee."
Noelle's heart jumped.
"How?"
"Traffic camera."
Reyes showed them a still image.
Crane sat in the passenger seat of a gray sedan.
Driving was Victor Hale.
Noelle's pulse surged.
"He's alive."
"For now."
Damian picked up his jacket.
Noelle moved around the island.
"I'm coming."
"No."
She glared.
Damian sighed.
"I knew you were going to say that."
"Then save time."
"They are running."
"From me."
"From evidence."
"My body is evidence."
"So are the children."
Her anger cooled.
He was right.
That made it worse.
Reyes interrupted.
"There's another problem."
Damian looked at him.
"The plate belongs to a nursing home outside Milwaukee."
Noelle frowned.
"So?"
"The nursing home is owned by a shell company."
Damian's expression hardened.
"Whose?"
"Victor Hale's."
A silence.
Reyes swiped the screen.
"And according to licensing records, the facility used to be a maternity recovery center."
Noelle felt cold.
"Used to?"
"Until twelve years ago."
Damian took the phone.
A photograph showed an isolated brick building surrounded by trees.
Noelle stared.
"Why would they go there?"
Reyes's answer was quiet.
"Maybe because that's where this started."
Two hours later, Damian's convoy headed north.
Noelle sat beside him.
The triplets remained at the estate under Teresa's care and twice the usual security.
Noelle hated leaving them.
She also knew she needed answers if she ever wanted them safe.
The nursing facility looked abandoned when they arrived.
No sign.
No staff cars.
Windows boarded on one wing.
The main doors were unlocked.
That was worse.
Inside, the hall smelled of mold and bleach.
Reyes's men cleared rooms.
Empty.
Empty.
Empty.
Then someone called from downstairs.
Damian and Noelle followed.
Basement.
Steel door.
Electronic lock.
Fresh fingerprints on the keypad.
Reyes bypassed it.
The door opened.
Noelle stopped breathing.
Inside were shelves of medical records.
Thousands.
And freezers.
Rows of them.
Each labeled with codes.
Damian walked toward one.
He read a tag.
D.M.-117.
His face turned white.
Noelle moved beside him.
Inside were cryogenic storage containers.
Damian's stolen genetic samples.
Still preserved.
After years.
Reyes opened a file cabinet.
"Boss."
Damian turned.
Reyes held a folder.
NOELLE BISHOP.
Inside was a photograph of her taken six months before pregnancy.
Another at work.
Another pushing her mother in a wheelchair.
Another leaving a clinic.
Noelle's breathing became shallow.
They had watched her before she had ever met Dr. Crane.
"Why?"
she whispered.
A page fell from the folder.
Damian picked it up.
Candidate criteria.
Age.
Health.
Fertility.
Limited family network.
Financial vulnerability.
Psychological resilience.
Noelle read the final line.
Suitable for Project Legacy.
"What is Project Legacy?"
Damian asked.
Reyes had no answer.
Then a voice came from behind them.
"I do."
Everyone turned.
An old man stood in the doorway.
Thin.
Oxygen tube beneath his nose.
Hospital gown beneath a heavy coat.
He looked at Damian.
Then at Noelle.
His eyes filled with something that might have been shame.
"You've taken long enough."
Damian's men raised their weapons.
The old man lifted both hands.
"My name is Dr. Samuel Bell."
Noelle's heart jumped.
Bell.
Marie Bell had been listed as the triplets' fake mother.
Damian stepped closer.
"What is Project Legacy?"
Dr. Bell looked at the freezers.
Then at the folder in Noelle's hands.
"A market."
"For children?"
Noelle asked.
Bell shook his head.
"For bloodlines."
Nobody moved.
Bell's eyes found Damian.
"Powerful men leave something behind when they die."
His voice rasped.
"Money."
"Companies."
"Names."
He looked toward the coded samples.
"But some men are worth more before they're dead."
Damian's expression became lethal.
Bell continued.
"Your father understood that."
Damian froze.
"My father?"
Bell smiled without humor.
"Project Legacy didn't begin with Sofia."
He took a struggling breath.
"It began with your family."
Damian stepped forward.
"My father is dead."
"Yes."
Bell looked directly into his eyes.
"But before he died, Carlo Marchetti paid us to make certain the Marchetti bloodline could never disappear."
Noelle stared at Damian.
He looked stunned.
May you like
Bell lifted one trembling hand toward the freezer.
"And you three are not the first children created from Damian Marchetti's DNA."
