Chapter 3 - The Penthouse Sanctuary
The black town car dropped me off at the base of a secure high-rise tower in the Gold Coast district, where private security guards checked my ID three times before letting me into a private elevator that required a biometric scan.
Before I left my apartment, I had called Carla, my only real friend from the bookstore where I used to work, and texted her the exact address and Roman’s name. “If I don’t text you by midnight,” I had written, “send the police.”
The elevator doors slid open directly into a sprawling, minimalist penthouse that occupied the entire top floor. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows offered a panoramic view of the glittering Chicago skyline, but I didn't look at the view.
Because three tiny figures were crawling across the light hardwood floor toward me as fast as their legs could carry them.
"Mom! Mom! Mom!"
They collided with my shins, their small arms wrapping around my legs with fierce, desperate strength. The little boy with the curls buried his face in my skirt, while his sister grabbed my hand, pressing it against her cheek.
Before I could stop myself, I dropped to my knees on the floor.
My body remembered them before my mind could catch up. The scent of baby powder, warm skin, and sweet milk hit me like an electric shock. Tears spilled over my lashes, hot and blinding, and I pulled all three of them into my arms, sobbing into their soft hair as they patted my face with sticky, comforting little hands.
"I've got you," I cried, rocking them back and forth on the penthouse floor. "I've got you, my babies, I'm right here."
Footsteps echoed softly behind me.
I looked up through my tears to see Roman standing a few feet away. He had taken off his suit jacket, his white dress shirt rolled up at the elbows, revealing strong, corded forearms. His dark eyes were suspiciously bright, his jaw clenched tight as he watched the four of us on the floor.
"Their names," Roman said quietly, his voice thick. "Leo. Luca. Lily."
"Leo, Luca, and Lily," I repeated, tasting the names on my tongue like a long-lost prayer.
Roman stepped closer and crouched down beside us. He didn't touch me, but he reached out, his large hand resting gently on Lily’s back. The little girl didn't flinch away from him—something she apparently did with everyone else, according to his earlier words—but she leaned closer to me, her small fingers clutching my collar.
"My private medical team is downstairs," Roman said, looking directly into my eyes. "They can run DNA swabs tonight. We can have definitive proof within six hours."
"No," I said, my voice hardening instantly, defensive instincts flaring up. "Not your team. Not people you pay. I don't trust anyone on your payroll, Mr. Voss."
Roman didn't get angry. He nodded slowly, conceding the point with a grim, respectful tilt of his head. "Fair enough. We'll go to an independent clinic at dawn. A neutral facility. I'll submit my DNA as well."
He paused, his dark gaze dropping briefly to the children before returning to me. "I need to tell you something, Pamela. When Alessandra brought them home a month after they were born, she told me their mother had signed away all rights and passed away from surgical complications. She told me she had adopted them legally through Conrad Vale to fill the void of our failing marriage."
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"She lied," I said bitterly.
"She did," Roman agreed, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous growl. "And now Alessandra is dead, Conrad Vale is missing, and someone in St. Catherine’s Medical Center carved out a false reality and handed my children to a woman who had no right to them. Whoever did this is going to pay for it in ways they cannot imagine."
