PART 4: THE BILLIONAIRE’S MOTHER AND THE TERRIFYING TRUTH
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY BABIES ARE MISSING?”
My scream echoed through the hospital room. I tried to climb out of bed, but a sharp pain tore across my abdomen. The emergency surgery had left me weak, and my body was still recovering from the freezing temperatures that nearly killed me.
Detective Sarah Collins rushed toward me.
“Grace, please! You’ll tear your stitches!”
“I DON’T CARE!” I cried. “SOMEONE HAS MY CHILDREN!”
Nathaniel stood motionless beside the window, staring at his phone.
His mother.
Eleanor Whitmore.
The woman whose name appeared on my father’s secret documents.
The woman who had helped Derek hide millions.
And now she had taken my newborn twins.
Nathaniel finally spoke.
“Sarah, lock down the hospital. Nobody leaves without being identified.”
Sarah was already calling hospital security.
But I wasn’t looking at her.
I was looking at Nathaniel.
“Your mother took my children,” I whispered. “And you knew she was dangerous.”
His jaw tightened.
“Grace, I swear I didn’t know she would do this.”
“YOU ALSO SWORE YOU WANTED TO HELP MY FATHER!”
The words hit him hard.
He looked away.
And for the first time, I realized that the billionaire who had rescued me from death might be carrying more guilt than he had ever admitted.
Twenty minutes later, Detective Sarah returned with the hospital’s security director.
They had found footage from a service corridor near the neonatal intensive care unit.
The video showed Eleanor wearing a stolen hospital identification badge and pushing a medical transport bassinet.
Inside were two tiny babies wrapped in identical blankets.
My babies.
My beautiful son and daughter.
I pressed my trembling fingers against the screen.
“Please,” I whispered. “Please be okay.”
Then the camera captured something unexpected.
Eleanor stopped beside a service elevator.
A man stepped into view.
He wore a dark jacket and a baseball cap.
When he lifted his head, I recognized his face immediately.
Marcus.
Nathaniel’s personal assistant.
I slowly turned toward Nathaniel.
“Your assistant helped her?”
Nathaniel looked stunned.
“That’s impossible.”
But the footage didn’t lie.
Marcus handed Eleanor a small envelope, checked the hallway, and helped her push the bassinet into the elevator.
Then both disappeared.
Detective Sarah crossed her arms.
“Mr. Cross, I think it’s time you told us everything.”
Nathaniel rubbed his forehead.
“Marcus has worked for me for eleven years.”
“And apparently,” Sarah replied, “he’s been working for your mother too.”
Suddenly, Nathaniel’s phone vibrated.
A text message appeared from an unknown number.
IF GRACE WANTS HER CHILDREN ALIVE, SHE WILL SIGN THE TRANSFER DOCUMENTS BEFORE MIDNIGHT.
NO POLICE.
NO TRICKS.
The message included a photograph.
My twins were lying inside a portable medical bassinet, still wearing their hospital identification bands.
Beside them sat a digital clock.
11:17 PM.
I looked at the time on the hospital wall.
10:42 PM.
Thirty-five minutes.
That was all they were giving me.
I started crying so hard I could barely breathe.
“They’re going to kill my babies.”
Sarah immediately called the hospital’s emergency response team.
Nathaniel took the phone from my shaking hand.
“Grace, listen to me. We’re going to get them back.”
I stared at him.
“How can I believe you when everyone around you has lied to me?”
He didn’t answer.
Then he slowly reached into his coat and pulled out a small black flash drive.
“Because it’s time you knew what really happened to your father.”
He handed it to Detective Sarah.
“Seven years ago, Robert Mitchell came to me with evidence that my mother was laundering money through our pharmaceutical company. I agreed to help him. But someone discovered our investigation.”
I watched him carefully.
“Who?”
“Marcus.”
Nathaniel’s voice became bitter.
“He was my mother’s informant. He intercepted our messages and warned her that Robert was preparing to testify.”
Sarah inserted the flash drive into her laptop.
A recording appeared.
My father’s face filled the screen.
He looked exhausted.
“Grace, if you’re watching this, something has happened to me.”
I covered my mouth.
It was his voice.
The voice I hadn’t heard in seven years.
“I discovered that Eleanor Whitmore and Derek Bennett have been using fraudulent medical supply contracts to steal millions. But the money is only part of the truth.”
My father paused, glancing nervously toward the door.
“Several hospitals received shipments of counterfeit medication. Patients died because of what they did.”
My blood ran cold.
He continued.
“Nathaniel Cross is helping me collect evidence, but I believe someone is watching us. I’ve hidden copies of everything in a trust account under Grace’s name.”
Then he leaned closer to the camera.
“And Grace, if anyone tells you Nathaniel murdered me, don’t believe them without seeing the complete evidence.”
The recording ended.
I stared at the black screen.
Nathaniel spoke quietly.
“The video Derek gave the police was edited. Your father’s warning about me came from an earlier argument, before we discovered Marcus was intercepting our communications.”
I felt my throat tighten.
“You could have shown me this years ago.”
“I should have,” Nathaniel admitted. “I was afraid my mother would come after you if she knew you had access to the evidence.”
I looked down at my trembling hands.
“And she came after me anyway.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Sarah’s phone rang.
She listened carefully.
“We’ve located the vehicle Eleanor used to leave the hospital.”
I looked up.
“WHERE?”
“An abandoned distribution warehouse near the river.”
Nathaniel’s face hardened.
“That warehouse belonged to my father.”
Sarah grabbed her jacket.
“Then we know where they’re holding the children.”
I reached for her hand.
“Please bring them home.”
She squeezed my fingers.
“We’re going to do everything possible.”
But as she turned toward the door, I stopped her.
“Detective, wait.”
She looked back.
“There’s something Derek told me inside the freezer.”
I swallowed.
“He said the life insurance paid triple. But he also said he was thinking about our children.”
Nathaniel frowned.
“What about it?”
“Derek never wanted children. He was furious when I told him I was pregnant. But three months ago, he suddenly insisted we move to a house near his pharmaceutical warehouse.”
Sarah narrowed her eyes.
“Why would he do that?”
I felt a terrible realization forming.
“Because he needed the babies to be born before he could access something.”
Nathaniel stared at me.
Then his expression changed.
“The trust.”
“What?”
“Your father included a family protection provision. If you had children, certain assets would be held for their benefit. Derek may have believed he could control those assets as their father.”
I shook my head.
“But he was willing to kill them in the freezer.”
“Which means,” Sarah said slowly, “he may have discovered another way to obtain control.”
Suddenly, Nathaniel’s phone rang again.
This time, it was a video call.
From Eleanor.
Nathaniel answered.
His mother’s face appeared on the screen.
She was elegantly dressed, her silver hair perfectly arranged.
Behind her, I could hear a baby crying.
My baby.
“WHERE ARE THEY?” I screamed.
Eleanor smiled.
“Hello, Grace. I’m delighted you survived.”
I felt physically sick.
“Please don’t hurt my children.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she replied softly. “I have no intention of hurting them. They’re far too valuable.”
Nathaniel stepped closer.
“Mother, this ends tonight.”
She laughed.
“Nathaniel, you’ve always been sentimental. Just like your father.”
Then her expression changed.
“Grace, you have twenty minutes to sign the documents. Otherwise, those precious children will never know their mother.”
Sarah silently signaled for her team to trace the call.
I forced myself to remain calm.
“What documents?”
Eleanor held up a folder.
“The release of your father’s trust records and the transfer of your trustee authority.”
“You can’t legally force me to sign away eighty-four million dollars.”
Eleanor smiled wider.
“I’m not interested in the money anymore.”
Nathaniel froze.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m interested in what’s buried beneath it.”
My heart began pounding.
“What?”
Eleanor leaned toward the camera.
“Your father left more than money, Grace. He left evidence that could send some very powerful people to prison.”
Then she said something that made the entire room go silent.
“And Derek Bennett isn’t your children’s real father.”
I stopped breathing.
Nathaniel stared at the screen.
Sarah’s eyes widened.
For a moment, I couldn’t form a single word.
Then I whispered, “That’s impossible.”
Eleanor shook her head.
“Oh, Grace. Your husband switched the fertility clinic’s records before your treatment. You were never carrying the children you thought you were.”
My entire body went numb.
Two years earlier, Derek and I had undergone fertility treatment after struggling to conceive. I remembered the appointments, the injections, the endless hope.
But Derek had handled most of the paperwork.
He had chosen the clinic.
He had insisted we keep everything private.
I looked at Nathaniel.
His face had lost all color.
Eleanor noticed.
And laughed.
“Ah, Nathaniel. I see you’re finally putting the pieces together.”
I stared at him.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He didn’t answer.
“Nathaniel?”
His voice was barely audible.
“Grace, seven months before your treatment, I had genetic material stored at a private fertility clinic for medical reasons.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“No.”
He looked devastated.
“The same clinic Derek insisted you use.”
I felt the room spinning.
Eleanor’s smile returned.
“Now you understand why those babies are so important.”
I shook my head violently.
“No! Derek is their father!”
Eleanor leaned closer to the camera.
“Then perhaps you should ask Nathaniel why the clinic’s original records list him as the genetic father.”
Nathaniel gripped the edge of the table.
I stared at him in complete disbelief.
The man who rescued me from the freezer.
The billionaire who had been searching for Derek for seven years.
The man whose mother had kidnapped my newborn twins.
Was he really the father of my children?
Before anyone could speak, Eleanor suddenly looked away from the camera.
A man’s voice shouted in the background.
“MA’AM! THE POLICE ARE OUTSIDE!”
Her smile disappeared.
Then another voice screamed.
Marcus.
“THE BABIES! SOMEONE’S TAKEN THE BABIES!”
Eleanor dropped the phone.
The screen tilted sideways.
I heard footsteps.
A crash.
Then a familiar male voice spoke from somewhere beyond the camera.
“Tell Grace I kept my promise.”
My blood froze.
I knew that voice.
I had heard it every day for five years.
Derek.
My husband.
The man who had tried to murder me.
He was supposed to be in police custody.
But somehow, he was standing inside that warehouse.
And he had my newborn twins.
Then Eleanor’s phone went dark.
Seconds later, Detective Sarah received a call from her officers.
Her expression changed completely.
She looked at Nathaniel.
Then at me.
“Grace… Derek escaped during a medical transfer.”
I struggled to breathe.
Sarah continued.
“He’s taken the babies through an underground loading tunnel.”
“WHERE IS HE GOING?” I screamed.
She swallowed.
“We found a vehicle waiting at the tunnel exit.”
I grabbed the bedrail.
“And?”
Sarah’s next words shattered what little strength I had left.
“The vehicle is registered to someone who died seven years ago.”
I stared at her.
“Who?”
She slowly turned the phone toward me.
The registration photograph showed a familiar face.
A face I had kissed goodbye for the last time at a funeral.
My father.
Robert Mitchell.
And beneath his photograph was a recent security image from the warehouse entrance.
The same man.
Older.
Alive.
Standing beside Derek.
I screamed.
Because the father I had mourned for seven years was apparently alive.
And he was helping my husband steal my children……..
TO BE CONTINUED IN LAST PART…
