The sound of Alejandro’s keys hitting the marble foyer echoed through the house. No one seemed to hear it.

Alejandro didn't hesitate. He slammed the receiver down, grabbed his coat, and walked straight into the morning room.

The four boys looked up as he entered. One of them—the boy named Toby, who had the slight scratch on his left cheek—held up a blue crayon drawing.

"Look, mister," Toby said proudly. "It's a big house with a yellow roof."

Alejandro stared down at the crude drawing. For four years, he had lived in an empty fortress, surrounded by expensive art and cold marble, grieving a life that had ended when his wife's heart stopped beating. Now, four tiny, living breathing remnants of her were sitting on his Persian rug.

"It's a very nice house," Alejandro said, his voice unexpectedly rough. He turned to Elena, who had followed him into the room, her face pale with terror.

"They're coming for them, aren't they?" Elena whispered. "Mercer found out where I took them."

"Mercer has no legal standing in this house," Alejandro said, though his mind was racing. "If he has a court order, it's fraudulent. He's trying to cover his tracks before I realize what he did three years ago."

He turned to his private cell phone and speed-dialed Marcus Sterling, his lead legal counsel and one of the few men in Chicago who could mobilize a high-powered legal team within ten minutes.

"Marcus," Alejandro said the second the line connected. "I need an emergency injunction against Horizon Reproductive Institute and Dr. Harold Mercer. I also need your entire litigation team at my gates in twenty minutes."

"Alejandro? What's going on?" Marcus sounded startled. "I'm in the middle of a deposition."

"I have four four-year-old biological sons sitting in my house that Mercer attempted to traffick five years ago," Alejandro said flatly. "If you want to keep your retainer, get down here now."

There was a short pause on the line before Marcus replied, "I'll be there in twelve minutes."

Alejandro ended the call and looked at Elena. "Pack their things. Every bag, every toy, every scrap of paper you brought with you. You're moving into the east wing guest suites."

Elena blinked, stunned. "Mr. Vance... you're keeping them here? You don't even know them. You didn't ask for this."

"I didn't ask for my wife to die either," Alejandro said, his eyes darkening as he looked toward the front entryway. "But those boys carry her DNA. And nobody takes what belongs to my family."

Five minutes later, Alejandro stepped out onto his front driveway just as the heavy iron gates at the end of the property creaked open under security override. The three black SUVs rolled slowly up the winding cobblestone drive, bringing dust into the crisp afternoon air.

The lead vehicle stopped at the foot of the marble steps.

A silver-haired man in a tailored grey suit stepped out. Dr. Harold Mercer looked every bit the distinguished medical professional—pristine collar, gold wire-rimmed glasses, and a calm, authoritative posture that oozed calculated confidence. Behind him, three burly men in tactical jackets stepped out of the second vehicle.

"Alejandro," Mercer said, offering a warm, professional smile that didn't reach his cold eyes. "It's been a long time. I wish our meeting were under better circumstances."

Alejandro stood at the top of the stairs, his arms crossed over his chest, two of his own armed private security guards flanking him.

"You're trespassing on private property, Harold," Alejandro said coldly. "State your business before I have my guards remove you."

Mercer sighed softly, taking a folder from his associate. "I'm here as a legal representative of the state's child protective services division, acting on an emergency petition. It has come to our attention that a former employee of my facility, Sofia Gomez, illegally abducted four ward minors subject to state custody, and that her mother, Elena Gomez, brought them here."