The lead specialist, Dr. Vance, smiled warmly as he turned the high-definition monitor toward us. “Congratulations, Mrs. Hayes. The targeted, stress-free fertility protocol worked perfectly. You’re carrying twins. Healthy, vibrant twins.”
I let out a long, shuddering breath, a tear finally escaping my eye as Hayes gently placed his large, scarred hand over mine. The “useless” woman Adrian had thrown away for failing to provide a legacy was about to bring two lives into the world.
But the final harvest came two months later, right in the middle of a high-stakes regional business gala in downtown Chicago.
Adrian and his mother had arrived dressed in their finest, eager to secure a multi-million-dollar maritime logistics contract from a mysterious global defense contractor known only as The Hayes Group. Adrian was standing near the grand buffet, boasting to a group of investors while Celeste clutched his arm, her stomach barely showing.
“It’s all about legacy,” Adrian was saying loudly. “You have to cut away the dead weight if you want your company to grow—”
The grand double doors of the ballroom swung open, and the ambient chatter of the room instantly died down.
I walked into the ballroom wearing a tailored sapphire-blue gown that elegantly framed my six-month pregnant belly. But it wasn’t my appearance that made the entire room draw a sharp, collective breath. It was the man walking beside me.
Captain Hayes had traded his old flannel jacket for a pristine, midnight-blue five-star general’s dress uniform, his chest heavy with rows of highest-tier military honors. Behind us walked a team of four private corporate attorneys holding gold-embossed leather portfolios.
Adrian’s wine glass slipped from his fingers, shattering loudly against the polished marble floor. He staggered back, his face turning a sickly, hollow shade of green. “Mara? What… what are you doing here? And who is this man?”
