ECHOES OF THE FORGOTTEN BLOOD

The glass elevator ascended through the core of Vance Tower with silent, dizzying speed. Through the transparent walls, the city lights twinkled far below, obscured by sheets of driving rain.

Clara stood in the center of the car, her arms wrapped firmly around the bundled baby. Every muscle in her body ached, her pulse thumping like a war drum in her ears. With every floor they passed, the air seemed to grow thinner.

*Ping.*

The doors parted smoothly on the eightieth floor.

The penthouse was a vast, minimalist expanse of polished white marble, floor-to-ceiling glass, and low designer lighting. Standing at the far end of the room, looking out over the stormy city, was Julian Vance. His right leg was encased in a sleek, motorized medical brace, and he leaned heavily on an obsidian cane. Behind him stood four private security operatives armed with tactical submachine guns.

"Clara," Julian said, turning slowly. A cold, victorious smile spread across his lips. "I must admit, I underestimated you. I expected Marcus to die like an idiot trying to smuggle you out through the sewers. I didn't expect you to have the intelligence to walk right to the source."

"I don't care about your war with Marcus," Clara said, her voice deliberately shaky, playing the part of the broken, terrified mother. She took two halting steps onto the marble floor. "And I don't care about Althea's research. My baby is dying, Julian. Her skin is burning up."

Julian's eyes flicked to the bundle in her arms, a flicker of genuine greed illuminating his features. "Of course she is. The cellular breakdown has already begun. The genetic sequence is too powerful for an infant body without the synthetic inhibitor."

"You give her the stabilizer," Clara demanded, her voice cracking with calculated desperation. "You save her life, and I give you the drive. Althea gave it to me before she ran."

Julian chuckled softly, limping forward two paces, the tip of his cane clicking rhythmically against the stone. "You really are a devoted mother, Clara. Sacrificing your husband's cause for a child that doesn't even share a drop of your blood."

"She is my daughter," Clara said, stepping forward until she was ten feet from the billionaire. "She grew inside my body. That makes her mine."

"Biologically irrelevant sentimentality," Julian dismissed coldly. He gestured with his chin toward the lead operative. "Search her. Take the child, put her in the stabilization pod in the adjacent lab, and find the drive."

The operative stepped forward, reaching out with gloved hands.

Clara didn't flinch. She locked eyes with Julian, watching his smug arrogance swell.

"You forgot one thing, Julian," Clara whispered softly.

Julian’s brow furrowed. "What's that?"