CHAPTER FIVE
The smell of antiseptic still clung to her as the hospital doors slid shut behind her. Danelle stepped into the sunlit morning with a dull ache in her limbs. Her body still remembered the agony of labor—sharp, unrelenting pain that seemed to tear through her like lightning—but nothing compared to the ache in her chest.
The betrayal.
The image of her husband and sister in bed, moaning without a care in the world, flashed through her mind again, followed by her mother's venomous voice.
She closed her eyes tightly, trying to shut it all out. It didn't work. It never did.
The drive back to the Vinci estate was quiet. Her newborns lay peacefully in their car seats, bundled tightly in soft blue and pink blankets, completely unaware of the chaos that had once threatened to take all their lives before they even entered the world. Danelle stared at them from time to time, each glance grounding her in a reality that still felt like fiction.
If she hadn't been spared that day—if the assassin had pulled the trigger—none of this would exist. They would have all been gone.
Her throat tightened.
Simone and Chane thought she was dead. They'd made sure of it. Danelle didn't need a confession or a signature to confirm it. She knew. It was in the way her mother had told her to disappear, the way Simone gloated. The way Chane signed the divorce papers without blinking.
They'd paid to erase her.
But here she was—alive, bleeding, healing—and stronger than ever.
As she sat on the bed in her room back at the Vinci estate, she leaned over the three bassinets lined up beside her. Their little bodies rose and fell in rhythm with sleep, their tiny fists curled up beside their faces. Danelle's fingers hovered above them as if touching them would make it all real.
"My babies," she whispered. "You're the only thing that kept me alive."
Tears filled her eyes, not from pain this time, but from love. Fierce, consuming love. And a promise bloomed inside her—loud, clear, and unforgiving.
She would protect them with everything she had. Even if it meant spilling blood.
Six Years Later
Six years had gone by, and with them, the fragile, broken girl known as Danelle Ford had vanished. In her place stood Rosa Da Vinci, president of the most powerful company in Italy.
The Vinci Empire had become the number one conglomerate in the country, and with Danelle at the helm, it was now ranked third globally. She'd brought a new wave of innovation, strategy, and fearlessness into the business world. Investors flocked, partners bowed, and competitors fell. Her vision was ruthless, her drive unmatched.
But not everyone was pleased.
Erika Da Vinci—her so-called niece—had tried everything in her power to sabotage her reign. Whispers in boardrooms. Leaked documents. Poison in coffee cups. But none of it worked.
Danelle saw through her every move. She always did.
It was nearing 3 PM when Danelle checked the clock in her office and realized the school day was nearly over. A smile crept onto her face. She'd promised the kids she would pick them up today and take them to the park—and she never broke a promise.
Her assistant had offered to send the driver, but Danelle insisted. No matter how many empires she conquered, she was always a mother first.
She packed her laptop into her bag and headed toward the elevator. Just as the doors began to close, a hand shot out and stopped them. The doors slid back open.
Erika.
"Hi, sis," she said, stepping inside with a syrupy smile.
Danelle returned a small, cold smile and turned her eyes back to the elevator panel.
"So… where are you headed? It's not even end of day yet. Pretty sure there's still a pile of work waiting for you upstairs."
Danelle rolled her eyes. It was Erika's favorite hobby—trying to get under her skin.
She remained silent.
"I asked you a question, Rosa. Or should I say… Danelle?" Erika's voice lost its sweetness, her tone sharp with contempt.
Danelle turned to her slowly, voice steady and firm. "You seem to forget that you're speaking to your boss, Erika."
Erika's nostrils flared. "You will never be my boss."
Danelle laughed softly, amused at the desperation in her niece's voice. "Come on, Erika. I'm President of Da Vinci, and you're the financial secretary. I could have you escorted out of this building before the next board meeting even begins."
The elevator dinged.
Danelle stepped out with a calm smile, leaving Erika frozen in place, fists clenched and rage simmering just beneath the surface. Her heels clicked across the marble floor like punctuation marks of victory.
She reached her car, slid into the driver's seat, and started the engine. The only thing that mattered now was getting to her kids.
The school grounds were filled with the buzz of students being dismissed and parents waiting outside. As her car approached, she spotted three familiar faces peeking from behind the school gate.
Ethan, Eva, and Olivia.
They saw her car and started to run, but then stopped abruptly and waited.
Danelle smiled. She'd taught them well.
After parking, she stepped out, and the kids sprinted into her arms, laughing and yelling in chorus.
"My sweethearts," she said, kneeling to wrap her arms around them. "I missed you all so much."
"You kept your promise, mommy," Olivia said, clinging to her side.
"Of course. If mommy says something, she means it," Danelle responded, ruffling her curls.
She ushered them into the car and helped them buckle up. As she got into the driver's seat, she glanced at the rearview mirror and noticed Eva staring out the window, unusually quiet.
"Eva?" she asked, turning around slightly. "What's wrong, my love?"
Eva's voice was small, but the sadness in it was loud. "My seatmate said I don't have a daddy. She said he never comes to school with me and that I'm the only one without one."
The words pierced Danelle's heart.
Olivia gasped. "She really said that?"
"You weren't sitting beside me, so how would you know?" Eva muttered.
"I wish you told me," Ethan grumbled. "I would've told her to shut up."
"Hey," Danelle said gently, her voice soft but firm. "We don't use violence or anger, even when people are mean. Sometimes, people say hurtful things to feel better about themselves."
Eva looked up. "But mommy… do we have a daddy?"
Silence filled the car.
The question Danelle had dreaded for six years had finally come. She'd done everything to fill the void, to be both mother and father to them. She worked late nights and still showed up at school recitals. She wiped tears and told bedtime stories. She built an empire for them—but she couldn't stop time. And she couldn't stop their curiosity.
She looked at them—three beautiful children who carried his eyes, his smile.
How do you explain to a child that their father threw their mother away before they were born?
Danelle swallowed hard, gripped the steering wheel, and forced a smile.
"Sweethearts… sometimes, daddies aren't ready to be the kind of daddies kids deserve. But you know what? You have me. And I'm never going anywhere."
The kids looked at one another, still quiet, not entirely satisfied but comforted by her voice. Olivia reached out and held Eva's hand. Ethan rested his head on the window.
Danelle started the car.
They were going to the park. Then they'd have ice cream. Then they'd laugh.
And when the time was right, she'd tell them the truth.
But not today.
Today, they were just going to be kids. And she was going to be their mother—their everything.
TBC