Angelena stepped out of the hotel bathroom. She had thrown on her torn evening gown, ignoring the cold draft against her skin. She didn't look back as she walked out of the suite, her palm still bleeding around the platinum cufflink.

Two months later.

The air inside the Beasley family mansion on the Upper East Side was suffocatingly tense.

Angelena stood in the center of the grand living room. Her fingers were clamped tightly around a crumpled medical report. Positive.

Her grandmother, Gerda Alvarado, sat in the high-backed leather armchair at the head of the room. Her face was a mask of pure fury. Gerda grabbed a stack of tabloids from the coffee table and hurled them directly at Angelena's face.

The heavy papers smacked against Angelena's cheek and scattered across the hardwood floor. The front pages all featured the same blurry, humiliating photos from the hotel room two months ago.

"You have brought absolute shame to this family!" Gerda roared, her voice echoing off the high ceilings.

Angelena closed her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Grandmother, I was drugged. Dara set me up."

Sitting on a velvet sofa nearby, Dara elegantly took a sip of her tea. She immediately placed the cup down and pressed a hand to her chest, looking deeply wounded. "How can you say that? I went to that hotel to save you! And you hit me!"

Gerda slammed her cane against the floor. "Enough! In the name of God, you are a sinner, Angelena. You are unclean. I am officially stripping you of your inheritance and your access to the family trust fund."

Angelena's eyes snapped open. She stared at the woman who had raised her. Her chest tightened so painfully she could barely breathe. "You're convicting me without even looking for the truth?"

Gerda didn't answer. She gestured to her private lawyer standing in the corner. The lawyer stepped forward, handing Angelena a thick document and a pen.

"Sign the severance agreement," Gerda ordered coldly. "And get out of New York. Never come back."

Angelena looked around the room. Every face staring back at her was cold, calculating, and entirely indifferent to her pain.

A harsh, bitter laugh escaped her lips. She snatched the pen from the lawyer's hand. Without a second of hesitation, she slashed her signature across the bottom line. She threw the pen on the floor, turned on her heel, and walked out the heavy oak doors without looking back.

Seven months later.

A brutal blizzard raged outside a dilapidated, off-the-grid cabin deep in the mountains of Colorado. The wind howled, shaking the wooden walls so violently it felt like the roof would tear off.

Inside, Angelena collapsed onto the hard wooden floor. A pool of water soaked through her sweatpants. Her water had broken. A blinding, tearing pain ripped through her abdomen, forcing a raw scream from her lungs.

Mags O'Malley, a black-market midwife, hastily lit a kerosene lamp. Her hands shook as she prepared a basin of hot water. "Push, girl! You have to push!"

Angelena grabbed the edge of the bedsheet, twisting the fabric until her knuckles turned stark white. She pushed with every ounce of strength she had left. The pain was absolute agony.

Finally, the sharp cry of a baby pierced through the sound of the howling wind.

Mags quickly cut the umbilical cord. She wiped the blood away and saw it was a boy. A strange, calculating look flashed across the midwife's eyes. She wrapped the infant in a blanket and set him aside.

Another wave of contractions hit. Angelena's vision went completely black. She was losing too much blood. Driven entirely by the primal instinct of a mother, she pushed again. And again. And again.

She delivered a second boy. Then a girl. Then another girl.

Four weak, overlapping cries filled the small cabin. Angelena forced her heavy eyelids open. She wanted to see her babies. But the blood loss was too severe. The room spun wildly, and her vision faded to a dark blur.

Seeing Angelena slip into semi-consciousness, Mags moved with frantic speed. She grabbed the two baby boys. She stuffed them into a heavy, insulated carrying basket, threw a thick cloak over her shoulders, and hurried to the back door of the cabin.

She pushed the door open against the raging wind. A mysterious figure dressed entirely in black-The Contact-stood in the snow.

The Contact handed Mags a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills.

Mags's eyes gleamed with greed. She snatched the money and shoved the basket containing the two boys into The Contact's arms. Without a word, the figure turned and vanished into the whiteout conditions.

Angelena jolted awake. The freezing draft from the door hit her skin. She struggled to prop herself up on her elbows. Panic seized her chest. "Mags? Where are my babies?"

Mags quickly brushed the snow off her cloak and walked back to the bed. She picked up the two baby girls and placed them gently against Angelena's chest. She forced a sympathetic smile. "You did it, honey. You had twin girls."

Angelena's trembling hands wrapped around the two tiny, fragile bodies. Hot tears streamed down her face, mixing with the sweat on her cheeks. She had no idea she had just given birth to four children.

Mags quickly gathered the bloody towels, hiding her nervous twitch. "I need to go as soon as the storm breaks. You need to rest."

Angelena pulled her daughters closer, feeling their rapid, tiny heartbeats against her skin. She rested her chin on their heads. She silently swore to the heavens that she would survive this. She would give them the world.

A few days later.

Angelena stood in the knee-deep snow outside the cabin. Her body was still incredibly weak. She had her two daughters strapped to her chest in a makeshift carrier. She watched Mags walk away down the mountain path, the midwife's pockets heavy with cash.

Angelena's expression was hard as stone. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out an ancient, leather-bound medical journal. It was her late mother's most prized possession, a relic she had secretly hidden away in the floorboards of her room long before the family completely turned their backs on her. She ran her thumb over the worn cover, a bitter smile touching her lips. If Gerda had known about this book, she would have burned it. Now, it was the only thing she had left in this world. Her only leverage.

She stared into the blinding white snow. One day, she would return to New York. She would return with power, and she would take back everything they stole from her.

Five years later.

John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York. The arrival terminal was a chaotic sea of noise and people.

A pair of long legs in six-inch Christian Louboutin heels stepped out of the first-class corridor. Angelena, dressed in a sharp, tailored white suit, pulled off her designer sunglasses. Her aura was commanding, instantly drawing the eyes of everyone around her.

She held a small hand in each of hers. Brigida and Domenica, her five-year-old daughters, looked like exquisite porcelain dolls. They wore matching neutral-toned overalls, their big eyes scanning the bustling city with intense curiosity.

Angelena tightened her grip on her daughters' hands as they navigated the crowded terminal. Her phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out. It was Justice Koch, her executive assistant, calling to coordinate the pickup.

"I'm near Terminal 4," Angelena said, looking up at the overhead signs.

Brigida tugged hard on the hem of Angelena's white blazer. "Mommy," she piped up, her voice sweet and urgent. "I need to go to the bathroom."

Angelena looked down, a soft, indulgent smile breaking her professional facade. She parked the luggage cart right outside the women's restroom entrance. "Go together. Hold hands. I'll be right here facing the door."

She turned her back to the restroom entrance to block the foot traffic, pressing the phone back to her ear to continue giving Justice directions.

Inside the restroom, Brigida and Domenica washed their hands at the low sinks. Just as Domenica reached for a paper towel, the door to the handicap stall swung open.

Two boys stepped out. They wore identical, high-end tailored mini-suits, complete with sunglasses and baseball caps.

The four five-year-olds froze. They stared at each other in the large mirror. Aside from their clothes and hairstyles, their facial features were a terrifying, exact copy of one another.

Foy, the older of the boys, lowered his sunglasses. His cool, calculating eyes widened slightly. "Why do you look exactly like me?" he demanded, his tone far too serious for a child.

Domenica giggled, sticking her tongue out playfully. Before she could answer, the heavy sound of synchronized, rapid footsteps echoed from the hallway outside.

Atherton, the elderly butler of the Richmond family, rushed into the restroom's outer vestibule, sweating profusely. Two massive bodyguards in black trench coats flanked him. They were in a state of absolute panic searching for their missing young masters.

Atherton's aging eyes scanned the area. He saw the backs of two children wearing neutral overalls and dark baseball caps pulled low over their foreheads, completely hiding their long hair. From behind, their silhouettes were identical to the young masters. In his frantic state, he didn't look twice. He lunged forward.

"Thank the heavens I found you!" Atherton gasped. He scooped up Brigida and Domenica, one under each arm. Without waiting for a response, he spun around and sprinted toward the exit, the bodyguards forming a wall behind him.

"Let me go, you crazy old man!" Brigida screamed, kicking her legs wildly. But her voice was completely muffled by the thick fabric of the bodyguards' coats and the blaring, high-decibel automated boarding announcements echoing through the outer vestibule as they rushed out.

Inside the restroom, Foy and Leland peeked around the corner of the sink. They stared at the empty space where the girls had just been.

Leland rubbed his eyes. "Foy, where did those girls go?"

Outside, Angelena hung up the phone and turned around. She caught a fleeting glimpse of a group of men in black suits rushing away, but she thought nothing of it. She assumed her daughters were still inside.

She waited another sixty seconds. Just as she took a step toward the restroom door, Justice Koch came sprinting through the crowd, pushing a second luggage cart, completely out of breath.

"Ms. Beasley!" Justice cried out, throwing her arms around Angelena in a tight hug. "I can't believe we are finally back. After five grueling years of you working day and night in those underground European labs, building this biotech firm from absolute scratch, the new drug trial results are in, they are phenomenal!"

Angelena smiled, distracted by the news.

At that exact moment, Foy and Leland walked out of the restroom, holding hands. Their caps were pulled low, sunglasses back on.

Justice caught sight of the two small figures out of the corner of her eye. Without missing a beat, she reached down and grabbed both boys by the hands. "Look how much you two have grown!" she beamed, not looking closely at their faces.

Foy frowned deeply. He tried to yank his hand away, but Leland gripped his brother's sleeve tightly. Leland was staring up at Angelena's profile. A bizarre, overwhelming sense of comfort washed over him.

Leland leaned in and whispered to Foy, "She smells so good."

Angelena, still reading the trial data on Justice's tablet, gave a distracted nod. She reached down, took Leland's free hand, and strode confidently toward the airport exit.

Meanwhile, Atherton practically threw the two struggling girls into the back of an extended Lincoln Navigator. He slammed the door shut and locked it, collapsing against the leather seat with a massive sigh of relief.

Brigida ripped off her cap, her long dark hair tumbling down her shoulders. She pointed a furious finger right at Atherton's nose. "You are kidnapping us! I am calling the police!"

Atherton turned around. His jaw dropped. His heart nearly stopped beating. The two short-haired young masters he thought he grabbed were now two long-haired little girls.

His hands shook violently as he pulled out his phone. He dialed Fabian Richmond's private number. "S-Sir," Atherton stuttered, cold sweat dripping down his neck. "I... I grabbed the wrong children."

Back with Angelena, the group climbed into the company's luxury van. Angelena handed the tablet back to Justice and turned around to grab a bottle of water for her daughters.

Her eyes landed on the back seat. The smile on her face froze instantly.

The water bottle slipped from her fingers. It hit the floorboard with a heavy thud.

Foy and Leland had taken off their sunglasses. They were staring at her with deep, piercing eyes that were an exact replica of her own. These were absolutely not her daughters.

Angelena's mind went entirely blank. A surge of pure terror shot through her veins. She lunged forward, grabbing Justice by the collar of her blouse.

"Whose children are these? !" Angelena screamed, her voice cracking with panic. "Where are my daughters? !"

Justice turned pale as a ghost. She stuttered, "I-I grabbed them from the bathroom door! I thought they were them!"

Foy sat perfectly still. He pushed Angelena's hand away from Justice's collar. His voice was unnervingly calm. "Ma'am, your employee just committed a serious felony. Kidnapping."

Angelena's vision blurred with panic. She slammed her hand against the partition window. "Turn the car around! Back to the airport, now!" Her hands shook uncontrollably as she pulled out her phone and dialed 911. Her heart felt like it was going to explode in her chest.

The luxury van swerved violently as the driver whipped it around on the highway, speeding back toward JFK.

Angelena gripped her phone, her knuckles white. The 911 operator's voice buzzed in her ear, stating they were pulling the airport security footage and she needed to head to the nearest precinct.

Foy sat casually against the leather seat. He tapped the screen of his high-tech smartwatch. "Cancel the police," Foy said, his tone icy and authoritative. "I just sent my coordinates. My father's security team will intercept us."

Angelena stared at the five-year-old, stunned by his unnatural composure.

Suddenly, Leland let out a sharp whimper. He curled into a tight ball on the seat, his small hands clutching his stomach. All the color drained from his face, leaving him a sickly, pale white.

Angelena's panic over her missing daughters was instantly overridden by her deeply ingrained medical instincts. She dropped her phone, unbuckled her seatbelt, and pulled Leland into her lap.

Her fingers expertly found the pressure points on his abdomen. She applied firm, circular pressure, massaging the cramped muscles.

Leland gasped. As his face pressed against Angelena's collarbone, the unique, soothing medicinal scent radiating from her skin enveloped him. The agonizing knot in his stomach miraculously began to loosen. He let out a soft sigh, nuzzling his face deeper into the crook of her neck like a stray kitten finding home.

Justice's phone suddenly erupted into a loud ringtone. She answered it, her eyes widening. "Ms. Beasley," Justice said, her voice trembling. "It's the Waldorf Astoria. Someone very powerful is waiting for us there. They said it concerns our... missing luggage."

Angelena's blood ran cold. "Luggage." They had her daughters.

Her eyes hardened into sharp shards of ice. "Tell the driver to reroute. Go straight to the Waldorf."

Twenty minutes later, the van screeched to a halt outside the Waldorf Astoria. Angelena didn't wait for the door to open fully. She scooped Leland up in her arms, grabbed Foy's hand, and stormed into the grand lobby, her heels clicking aggressively against the marble floor.

The lobby had been completely cleared out. Two rows of massive bodyguards in black suits stood with their hands clasped behind their backs. The air pressure in the room was suffocatingly heavy.

At the far end of the lobby, sitting on a tufted leather sofa, was Fabian Richmond. His long legs were crossed. He was staring down, casually flipping a silver lighter open and closed. The cold, dangerous aura radiating from him was palpable.

Angelena marched straight toward him. The sharp, rapid clicking of her heels made Fabian stop flipping the lighter. He slowly raised his head. His deep, ruthless eyes locked onto hers.

For a fraction of a second, Fabian's pupils contracted. The woman standing before him was stunning, sharp, and radiating fury. A bizarre, fleeting sense of familiarity brushed against his mind, but his chronic, splitting headache pushed it away.

Angelena felt a similar jolt. The man's arrogant, sharp features felt oddly familiar, but the sheer panic of losing her children blinded her to anything else.

"Where are my daughters?" Angelena demanded, her voice echoing coldly in the empty lobby.

Fabian let out a low, mocking scoff. He stood up. At six-foot-three, his shadow completely engulfed her. "Is this your new tactic?" he sneered. "Using a cheap 'switched at birth' stunt to get my attention?"

Angelena let out a harsh laugh of pure disbelief. She pulled Foy and Leland forward. "You have severe paranoia. You can't even keep track of your own sons. You are a completely incompetent father."

The temperature in the room plummeted. Fabian's face darkened with lethal fury. His hand shot out like a viper, his large fingers wrapping like a vice around Angelena's wrist. As his arm extended, the crisp cuff of his tailored suit pulled back, revealing a dark platinum cufflink engraved with a complex crest. Angelena's breath hitched. It was the exact same crest as the single cufflink she had kept locked in her safe for five years. The monster from that night-the man who had ruined her-was standing right in front of her.

"No one in New York speaks to me like that," he warned, his voice a deadly whisper.

Angelena didn't flinch. Her initial shock instantly transmuted into a blazing, white-hot rage. With lightning speed, her free hand shot up. Her thumb dug brutally into the ulnar nerve-the "funny bone" pressure point-on Fabian's forearm.

A sharp, electric shock of numbness shot up Fabian's arm. His grip involuntarily released. A flash of genuine shock crossed his eyes.

The sound of a dozen handguns being unholstered echoed in the lobby. The bodyguards aimed their weapons directly at Angelena.

"Stand down!" Foy suddenly yelled. He threw his arms wide, stepping directly between the guns and Angelena. He glared at his father. "This woman just saved Leland's life in the car. Tell them to put the guns away."

Fabian stared at his eldest son. Foy was notoriously cold and hated strangers. Seeing him actively protect this woman made Fabian's jaw tighten. He raised a single finger. The bodyguards instantly holstered their weapons.

The ping of an elevator sounded. Atherton ran out, sweating through his suit, followed by Brigida and Domenica. The girls' hair was a mess, their overalls wrinkled.

"Mommy!" they screamed in unison.

Angelena's eyes burned. She dropped to her knees, pulling both girls into a crushing hug. She ran her hands frantically over their arms and faces, checking for injuries.

Brigida pointed a tiny, accusatory finger at Fabian. "That mean man tried to lock us in a room! He kept calling us boys!"

Angelena's fury ignited into a blazing inferno. She stood up, stepping right into Fabian's personal space. She tilted her chin up, her eyes blazing. "If you ever touch a single hair on my daughters' heads again, I will make you bleed."

Fabian looked down at her. Seeing her defend her children like a cornered lioness stirred something strange in his chest. He pushed the feeling down, his expression turning to stone. "Control your feral children. They lack basic manners."

Angelena's hand twitched with the overwhelming urge to slap his arrogant face. She forced her hands into fists. "You arrogant bastard," she spat. She grabbed her daughters' hands and turned her back on him, marching toward the exit.

Leland watched her walk away. Suddenly, he burst into tears. He tried to run after her, reaching his small hands out. "I want her!"

Fabian quickly scooped Leland up, holding him tight. He watched Angelena's white suit disappear through the revolving doors. His eyes narrowed, turning dark and dangerous.

He turned his head slightly toward his executive assistant, Alex Croft.

"I want her entire background file on my desk before the sun goes down," Fabian ordered, his voice devoid of emotion.

Alex nodded respectfully. "Yes, Mr. Richmond." Internally, Alex was shocked. It had been years since the boss had shown this level of intense interest in any woman.