"He has public sympathy. The wronged twin. The discarded son. That's a powerful narrative.""So we create a more powerful counter-narrative. The imposter who studied you for years. Who stole your father's records. Who aligned with the Chen family specifically to destroy you. Who timed his emergence to cause maximum chaos while your wife is pregnant and vulnerable." Vincent's eyes were hard. "We paint him as the villain, sir. We make this about his calculated cruelty, not about questions of identity.""That requires proving he worked with the Chen family. Can you prove it?""Not yet. But I'm close. The shell companies funding his legal team trace back to the same offshore accounts that funded the conspiracy against you. It's all connected. I just need more time.""Time is the one thing we don't have." Alex checked his watch. "Two more hours until we land. Then I go to the Whitmore estate to search Richard's files. Then I go to the hospital to convince my wife I'm real. Then I have to f

"Alex," she breathed. "You need to see this."Alex took the journal and began reading. The first entry was dated eleven years ago:"Met with Marcus Castellano today in Guadalajara. The man is bitter, broken, and perfect for my purposes. He's been living with the Chen family, Eduardo took him in as an act of revenge against Jonathan. Marcus knows secrets about the Castellano family that even Jonathan's son doesn't know. Secrets about twins. About Elena's disappearance. About the child that was stolen. This is the leverage I've been waiting for."Alex's hands were shaking. "He knew. Richard Whitmore knew about the twins. Knew what my father did."Vincent read over his shoulder. "Keep going. There's more."The next entry was dated nine years ago:"Marcus and I have finalized the plan. It will take years to implement, but the payoff will be worth it. First, we build the network, recruit everyone who has a grudge against the Castellanos. The Chen family is eager to help; they hate Jonathan

Because I'm not hiding anymore. I'm not running. I'm not negotiating with terrorists who think they can steal a man's life just because they planned carefully enough."Marcus's face had gone red. "You arrogant…""No, Uncle. You're the arrogant one. You thought you could plan for twelve years and I'd just crumble. You thought you could use my brother against me and I'd surrender. You thought wrong." Alex moved toward the elevator. "I'm going up to that maternity ward. I'm going to be there when my daughter is born. And if anyone tries to stop me, they better be ready for a fight."The security guards looked at each other uncertainly. Marcus was sputtering with rage. Adrian was watching with something that might have been respect.And then, from the elevator, a nurse appeared."Which one of you is Alexander Castellano?" she called out. "Your wife is asking for you. She says she knows which one is her husband, and she wants him in the delivery room now."Everyone froze.Nora knew. Someho

The nurse stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes darting between Alex and the corridor where Adrian presumably waited. Behind her, the sounds of the maternity ward continued, babies crying, machines beeping, the organized chaos of new life entering the world."Mr. Castellano," she said softly. "Your wife is asking for you. But security has been called. Both of you will need to leave the building within the next few minutes unless…""Unless what?" Alex demanded."Unless Mrs. Castellano can provide definitive identification. Hospital counsel says if she can clearly identify which twin is her husband, we can honor her wishes and allow that person to stay."Alex turned back toward the room where Nora lay with their newborn daughter. Through the small window in the door, he could see her holding the baby, looking exhausted and beautiful and terrified all at once. She was staring at the door, waiting for him.Or waiting for someone who looked like him.Vincent grabbed Alex's arm. "Sir, we ne

The private jet Vincent had on standby at JFK was small but fast. They were in the air forty minutes after leaving the hospital, the plane climbing sharply over New York City as the sun set behind them, painting the sky in shades of orange and red that looked like fire.Alex sat by the window, his phone pressed to his ear, trying Jennifer's number for the fifteenth time. Still no answer. He'd left messages, calm at first, then increasingly desperate, finally just begging her to call back, to confirm Sophia was okay, to tell him they weren't too late.Nothing.Adrian sat across the narrow aisle, also on his phone, coordinating with people Alex didn't recognize. Apparently, Adrian had his own network of contacts built up over years of planning this revenge, investigators, lawyers, fixers. People who knew how to move fast and operate in gray areas of legality."I've got someone at San Francisco General," Adrian said, hanging up. "Sophia Chen was admitted four hours ago with acute symptom