Chris sat alone in his study at Romero, the orphanage director's words still burning in his ears. Eight years ago. Downtown. A baby left behind at a hospital.
He could feel it in his bones Arabella was his. But whose blood ran with hers?
There was only one name echoing in his mind. Bella.
He called Elliot back into the room. "Pull every medical record for Bella Walter. Hospitals, clinics, private physicians. Start eight years ago, in the weeks after her accident. Nothing is off limits. I want sealed files, hidden files, everything."
Elliot hesitated. "You think she....?"
Chris's eyes hardened. "Don't think. Prove it. I need facts. Find the truth they buried."
Two nights later, Elliot laid another file on Chris's desk.
"These records were hidden under a false name. We had to break through hospital archives. Look at this."
Chris opened the folder. His eyes locked on the words typed across a faded medical chart:
Emergency C-section for an 18-year-old female. Patient in coma for eight months. Pregnancy discovered during coma. Delivery successful. Infant moved to NICU. Mother unconscious.
Chris's hand shook slightly as he traced the words. The date. The place. The age. It was Bella.
"She got pregnant from that night," Elliot said quietly, filling the silence. "The night you were together. She was in the accident the following morning and never woke until eight months later. By the time she opened her eyes... the baby was already gone."
Chris's chest rose and fell heavily. His blood ran cold, fury and heartbreak colliding. He remembered the small scar Bella carried on her stomach, the one she had always believed came from the accident.
"She gave birth," he whispered, his voice breaking. "They stole her child... our child."
Elliot nodded grimly. "Records say the baby was stable in NICU. Vera was by Bella's side the whole time. But when they checked on the child again, she was gone. CCTV wiped. Files tampered with. The doctor in charge disappeared a year later likely paid off."
Chris shut his eyes, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt. He pictured Bella, helpless, carrying their child in silence while unconscious, never knowing. He thought of her waking up months later with no memory, a hollow scar, and a stolen child.
"They tried to erase her," Chris muttered. "Erase Bella's pain. Erase our child. But she's mine. She's ours. And I'll burn the world before I let anyone touch her again."
Elliot hesitated, then added quietly, "When Vera realised Bella had memory loss after waking, she begged her doctor friend to use hypnosis therapy to forget how long she was in coma for. It was supposed to help her heal. To let her live without remembering... without breaking."
Chris opened his eyes, fury blazing through the grief. "They meant to protect her, but all they did was bury the truth. And now that truth is standing in front of me with my eyes."
He turned to Elliot, his voice dark, final. "Run another DNA test. Quiet. Arabella and Bella. I want proof in my hands."
Elliot nodded and left.
Chris sank back in his chair, his fists trembling. His heart pounded with rage but also with something else, hope. For the first time in months, hope.
In another room at Romero, Bella held Jessy close, humming softly as he drifted to sleep. She stroked his tiny head, unaware that the daughter she thought never existed was alive just miles away, waiting to be brought back into her arms.
Chris watched from the doorway, silent, broken and determined. When the truth came out, Bella would never cry over stolen children again.
But one question haunted him in the dark: Who stole her baby and why?
The results came in the next morning. A slim envelope sealed with the lab's mark lay on Chris's desk at Romero.
He didn't sit. He tore it open with trembling hands, scanned the page, and froze.
DNA Match: 99.999%
Arabella was Bella's child. Their child.
Chris's chest heaved. For months he had been haunted by doubt, suspicion, fragments of truth. But now there was no question. The Fredericks hadn't just lied. They had stolen Bella's daughter, used her as a weapon, and caged him in a marriage built on poison.
He pressed a hand to his face, a harsh laugh breaking into a growl. "She's ours, Bella... she's always been ours."
Across the city, Bella held Jessy on her hip, staring nervously at the door of Bianca's apartment. Almost a year had passed since she vanished, leaving without goodbye, drowning in her shame and scandal.
She raised her hand and knocked.
Bianca opened the door, her expression blank at first then her eyes filled with tears. "Ella?"
Bella's throat tightened. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry for leaving you when you needed me. You were my sister, my friend. I should have trusted you, but instead I hid."
Bianca pulled her into a hug before she could finish. "You were hurting. I was angry, but I never stopped praying you'd come back." She brushed a tear away and kissed Jessy's cheek. "And now look at you... a mother."
The two women clung to each other, laughter breaking through tears. For the first time in months, Bella felt whole again.
That same evening, Chris walked into Thelma's estate unannounced. Denise stuttered at the sight of him, but he brushed past her, heading straight for the sound of a child crying.
Arabella.
He pushed open the door. Thelma stood over the little girl, her hand raised, her face twisted with rage. "Stop crying, you useless brat!"
Chris's roar shook the walls. "Touch her again, and you won't live to regret it."
Thelma froze, her face draining of color. Arabella ran into Chris's arms, sobbing into his chest. Chris held her tight, his body shaking with fury.
"She's not yours to hurt," Chris spat. "She never was."
By morning, his lawyers had filed for emergency custody. The DNA test was the weapon. The photographs Elliot had taken of Thelma's abuse were the nail in the coffin.
A restraining order was served the same day: Thelma Frederick was forbidden from coming within five hundred meters of Arabella.
When Chris returned to Romero with Arabella in his arms, Bella stared in shock. She blinked at the little girl's face, the violet eyes, the tilt of her chin, the softness of her smile even through tears.
Her hand trembled as she reached out, a strange pull gripping her heart. Jessy wriggled in her arms, but her gaze stayed on Arabella.
Chris watched silently, his heart heavy with the truth he now held. He wasn't ready to tell Bella yet. But soon.
Very soon.
Chris stood by the window that night, watching Bella rock Jessy to sleep while Arabella curled against Vera on the couch. Two children. His children.
And for the first time in years, he felt a fragile hope take root.
He whispered to himself, "They'll never take them from us again."