Chapter 4 The Cord Blood Conspiracy

As my pregnancy progressed into the second trimester, Daniel's attentiveness reached almost suffocating levels. A team of domestic staff monitored my diet, my sleep patterns, even the temperature of my showers. I was permitted to continue working at the hospital, but only three days a week, with Daniel's driver escorting me everywhere. The control was maddening, but I endured it for Sophie's sake.

Sophie, whose health was deteriorating despite our best efforts. Each transfusion bought less time than the one before. Each experimental treatment showed diminishing returns. When she was admitted to the pediatric ICU for the third time in two months, I spent nights sleeping in the chair beside her bed, my growing belly making it increasingly uncomfortable.

"Will my brother and sister look like me?" she asked one evening, her small hand resting on my stomach.

I smoothed her thin hair back from her forehead. "They might. They'll share some of your genetic makeup."

"Because they're my siblings," she said with the simple certainty of a child.

I hesitated. "In a way, yes."

Sophie's brow furrowed. "But Victoria says they're only my half-siblings. Because we have different mommies."

My heart clenched. "Victoria's been talking to you about this?"

Sophie nodded, fidgeting with her IV line. "She visits when Daddy's working and you're at the hospital. She says she's my real mommy, but that I need your babies to get better."

I struggled to keep my expression neutral as rage boiled inside me. Victoria had no right to confuse Sophie with such conversations.

"The important thing," I said carefully, "is that we all love you very much and want you to get better."

Sophie seemed satisfied with this answer, drifting off to sleep shortly after. I sat there seething, watching her chest rise and fall with each labored breath.

Later that night, returning to the mansion to shower and change clothes, I heard voices coming from Daniel's study. The door was slightly ajar, and I recognized Victoria's distinctive laugh—brittle and practiced, like breaking crystal.

"The amniocentesis results are perfect," she was saying. "Both fetuses show ideal cellular markers."

"And the risks?" Daniel's voice.

"Minimal. The cord blood collection procedure is straightforward. We'll have the specialized team on standby for the birth."

I moved closer to the door, my heart pounding.

"And after?" Daniel asked. "The divorce proceedings?"

"All prepared," Victoria replied smoothly. "Once Sophie receives the treatment and stabilizes, we can file the papers. Bella gets her research center, you get your daughter back to health, everyone wins."

"She's gotten attached to Sophie," Daniel said, his tone thoughtful.

Victoria's laugh came again. "That's not your problem. The contract is clear—no custody claims on Sophie. Once the twins are born, Bella has served her purpose."

I pressed my hand against my mouth to stifle a gasp. Despite knowing our marriage was a business arrangement, hearing it stated so coldly was still a shock.

"Speaking of the twins," Victoria continued, "we need to discuss custody arrangements for them as well."

"That's already settled," Daniel said dismissively. "Joint custody, as specified in the contract."

"Daniel," Victoria's voice dropped to a silky purr, "be realistic. You don't need two more children. Sophie is your priority. Always has been."

There was a pause. "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that once Sophie is treated, the twins become... unnecessary complications. Bella can have full custody. You can have visitation rights on paper, but practically speaking..."

My blood ran cold.

"I'm not abandoning my children, Victoria." Daniel's voice had an edge I'd never heard before.

"They're not children yet," Victoria countered. "They're medical resources. That was the whole point of this arrangement."

I'd heard enough. I pushed the door open, standing there with one hand cradling my twenty-week belly.

"Medical resources?" I repeated, my voice deadly quiet.

They both turned, Daniel rising from his chair, Victoria merely raising an eyebrow.

"Bella," Daniel began.

"Don't," I cut him off. "I heard everything."

Victoria sighed dramatically. "Eavesdropping is so undignified, Bella."

"Almost as undignified as plotting to discard your own children after they've served their purpose," I shot back.

"No one is discarding anyone," Daniel said firmly, shooting Victoria a warning look. "The custody arrangement stands as agreed in our contract."

"Does it?" I challenged. "Because it sounds like you two have been making alternative plans."

"We were merely discussing options," Victoria said smoothly, gathering her papers. "Daniel and I go way back. We like to consider all angles."

"Get out," I said coldly.

"This is Daniel's house," she reminded me with a smirk.

"Get out," Daniel echoed, surprising both of us. "We'll continue this discussion another time."

After Victoria left, an uncomfortable silence stretched between us.

"She doesn't speak for me," Daniel finally said.

"Doesn't she? You've been co-conspirators from the beginning." I sank into a chair, suddenly exhausted. "Medical resources. That's all these babies are to you, aren't they?"

Daniel ran a hand through his hair—a rare gesture of genuine frustration. "You know Sophie is my priority."

"That's not an answer."

He met my gaze directly. "I want these children, Bella. Our children. But yes, their primary purpose was to save Sophie. I've never pretended otherwise."

"And after? When Sophie's better? Will they just be... what? Backup donors? Insurance policies?"

Daniel's expression hardened. "They'll be my children. I take care of what's mine."

"They're not possessions," I snapped. "And neither am I."

"No," he agreed, his voice softening unexpectedly. "You're the mother of my children. All three of them."

The statement hung between us, loaded with implications neither of us was prepared to address.

I placed a protective hand over my belly. "I want a new contract. One that specifies that cord blood collection cannot in any way risk the twins' health."

"That was always the plan," Daniel insisted.

"I want it in writing. And I want Victoria barred from any medical decisions regarding this pregnancy or the birth."

Daniel studied me for a long moment. "Done."

I should have felt relieved, but something in his easy capitulation made me uneasy. Daniel Kingsley never conceded ground unless it served a larger strategy.

My suspicions were confirmed three weeks later when I was preparing for a scheduled C-section at 36 weeks—early, but safe for the twins while maximizing the stem cell count in the cord blood.

I was reviewing my patient files in the hospital when Dr. Ethan Cole, my colleague and friend, entered with a troubled expression.

"Bella, we need to talk," he said, closing the door behind him.

"What's wrong?" I asked, immediately alert.

"I just reviewed the surgical plans for your C-section." He hesitated. "There's a specialized cord blood collection team from Kingsley Pharmaceuticals scheduled to be in the OR."

"That's expected," I said cautiously. "The cord blood is for Sophie's treatment."

"It's not just collection," Ethan said, lowering his voice. "They've requested permission to perform an experimental extraction procedure. It's invasive, Bella. They want to harvest stem cells directly from the placental tissue and the umbilical vessels while they're still attached."

My mouth went dry. "That procedure hasn't been approved for clinical use. It's still experimental."

"Exactly." Ethan looked grim. "And it increases the risk of maternal hemorrhage significantly. Daniel signed off on it yesterday."

"Without consulting me?" My hands clenched into fists.

"There's more," Ethan continued reluctantly. "There's a DNR order in your file."

"A what?"

"A do-not-resuscitate order. In case of complications, they're instructed to prioritize the cord blood collection over..." He couldn't finish the sentence.

Over my life. Daniel had authorized them to let me die if it came down to a choice between me and obtaining the cells Sophie needed.

I felt physically ill. "Who authorized this?"

"The paperwork has your signature," Ethan said quietly. "But it's dated from last week, when you were on bed rest at home."

A forgery. It had to be. I never would have signed such a document.

"I need copies of everything," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. "And I need you to be my attending physician for the birth. No one from Kingsley Pharmaceuticals in the room."

Ethan nodded grimly. "Already arranged. I've moved your procedure to tomorrow morning, before they can intervene."

"Thank you," I whispered, tears threatening. Ethan had always been there for me, even before this nightmare began.

"Bella," he hesitated, then plunged ahead, "you don't have to go through with this. We can find another way to help Sophie."

"There is no other way," I said, wiping my eyes. "But I'm not dying for Daniel Kingsley's medical experiment either."

That night, I confronted Daniel in Sophie's hospital room, keeping my voice low to avoid waking the sleeping child.

"You forged my signature on a DNR," I said without preamble.

He didn't even have the decency to look surprised. "It was a precautionary measure."

"Precautionary?" I hissed. "You authorized them to let me bleed out on the table!"

"Only in the extremely unlikely event that we couldn't save both you and secure the cord blood," he corrected calmly. "Sophie's one chance can't be jeopardized."

"And the experimental extraction procedure? Were you going to tell me about that at all?"

A flicker of something—guilt, perhaps—crossed his face. "The standard collection methods might not yield enough stem cells for Sophie's condition."

"So you decided to gamble with my life instead." I was trembling with fury. "Without even discussing it with me."

"Would you have agreed?" he challenged.

"That's not the point!"

"It's exactly the point," Daniel countered, his voice hardening. "This was always about saving Sophie. Everything else is secondary."

"Including the lives of your unborn children? Because that procedure puts them at risk too."

For the first time, Daniel looked uncertain. "The research indicated minimal risk to the infants."

"Minimal is not zero," I snapped. "And that research is preliminary at best. You were willing to risk all three of us."

Sophie stirred in her sleep, and we both fell silent, watching her labored breathing.

"I've changed the surgical plan," I said finally. "Standard procedure, standard collection. Ethan will be overseeing everything."

Daniel's jaw tightened. "Dr. Cole has no authority—"

"He has mine," I cut him off. "And legally, that's all that matters. I'm the patient."

"And what about Sophie?" Daniel demanded, gesturing to the frail form in the hospital bed. "Are you condemning her to die because you're afraid of a little risk?"

The accusation stung, but I held firm. "Standard collection will yield enough cord blood for her initial treatment. If more is needed, I'll donate peripheral blood stem cells afterward."

"That's not the same. The potency—"

"Is my decision," I finished for him. "My body, my children, my choice."

I turned to leave, but Daniel caught my wrist, his grip tight.

"I have a recording," he said quietly. "From when we first discussed this arrangement. You said, and I quote, 'Only Sophie matters. The twins are just a means to an end.'"

I stared at him in shock. "I never said that."

He pulled out his phone, pressed play, and my voice—distorted but recognizable—spoke those exact words.

"Doctored," I whispered, though a cold dread was spreading through me. Modern AI technology could fabricate convincing voice recordings with minimal source material.

"The hospital ethics board might disagree," Daniel said smoothly. "Especially when combined with your initial contract, which clearly prioritizes cord blood collection."

It was blackmail, pure and simple.

"What do you want, Daniel?" I asked tiredly.

"The original surgical team. The approved collection procedure." His eyes bored into mine. "No interference from Dr. Cole."

"And the DNR?"

"Withdrawn," he conceded. "Your life isn't expendable."

Just less important than Sophie's, was the unspoken implication.

I pulled my wrist from his grasp. "I need time to think."

That night, as I lay in my hospital bed, I felt the twins moving restlessly inside me. Two innocent lives created for a single purpose—to save their sister. A sister they might never get to know if Daniel's plans for our post-treatment divorce proceeded as scheduled.

I recorded a video on my phone, documenting everything—the forged DNR, the experimental procedure, Victoria's involvement, the manipulated fertility treatments. If anything happened to me during the surgery, there would be evidence.

Then I sent a text to Ethan: "Change of plans. Original surgical team stays. But I need you there as an observer. And I need you to swear that if things go wrong, you'll protect my babies before anything else."

His reply came almost immediately: "I swear it. But Bella, what's going on?"

I didn't answer. Couldn't explain the impossible choice I was making. Because the truth was, I couldn't condemn Sophie to death either. Not when I looked into her eyes and saw my own reflection. Not when I had grown to love her as fiercely as the children I carried.

The next morning, I was prepped for surgery, the specialized Kingsley team buzzing around me with barely concealed excitement. As the anesthesia began to take effect, I saw Daniel watching from behind the glass window, his expression unreadable.

My last conscious thought was a prayer that all three of my children would survive this day—regardless of what happened to me.