My daughter was gaunt and sallow, her tiny brow furrowed even in sleep.
The other child was plump and rosy, visibly healthier in every way.
The bitterness spilled out before I could stop it.
"You really do play the devoted husband for Tracey and her son."
"Too bad a mistress will always be a mistress, and a bastard will always be a bastard."
That hit a nerve.
"Do you have to be so vile? What do you mean, bastard?"
"If you'd been able to conceive, do you think I would've gone to her for a child?"
My eyes went wide.
"What are you saying..."
He lifted his head and stared straight into my eyes.
"I'm telling you, Douglas is not a bastard, and he will never be called illegitimate."
"What can a girl accomplish? The Gilbert family name, the legacy, the empire — all of it needs a son."
The room fell silent. I stared at him, unable to process what I'd just heard.
He frowned, impatient.
"If Douglas hadn't gotten sick, if the bone marrow match hadn't led back to her, do you think you would've ever found out?"
"Just think of it as your daughter doing a good deed. Building up karma. Once she's discharged, we go back to normal. We move on."
The sheer absurdity of it pulled a cold laugh from my throat.
My daughter had been kidnapped at her own first birthday party and drained of her bone marrow. I'd tracked down the culprit, only to discover it was her own father.
Thomas Gilbert didn't give a damn whether his daughter lived or died, yet somehow I was the one being unreasonable.
I made a phone call. My assistant arrived within minutes, people in tow.
Thomas's bodyguards moved to block them. I shut that down myself.
My lawyer handed me the custody relinquishment agreement. I took it and threw it at Thomas.
"If this hospital won't treat her, I'll find one that will."
"Since you can't stand the sight of your own daughter, you can have exactly what you want."
"Sign it."
Thomas stared at the document, stunned for half a second, then erupted.
"What the hell are you doing? Who gave you permission to draw this up?"
"I'm telling you, there's no way I'm signing—"
I raised a hand and cut him off before he could finish.
"When I was eight months pregnant and agreed to remarry you, you promised you'd be good to me and our daughter."
"That was the last time I ever believed you."
"Three days. Whether you sign or not, I'm taking my daughter."
I turned and walked away, ignoring his frantic shouting behind me.