Richard Vance lifted one of newborn triplets straight out of the bassinet while postpartum Maya reached desperately from her bed

The postpartum recovery suite was flooded with blinding, hyper-vibrant colors. The midday sun poured through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a stark, brilliant light over the sterile white tiles and pastel blue blankets. The room was utterly devoid of background music or ambient comfort; there was only the cold, rhythmic hum of the medical machinery. Sitting in the hospital bed was Maya Vance. At twenty-seven, she possessed a face as beautiful as a classic movie star's, her fair, rosy skin practically glowing in the bright light despite her immense exhaustion. She wore a standard pale hospital robe, a plastic patient wristband cutting into her delicate wrist, and an oxygen mask resting loosely around her neck. She was barefoot, her toes curled against the chill of the crisp sheets. Lined up perfectly beside her bed was a wide bassinet holding three newborn babies, all wrapped identically in striped hospital blankets.

The heavy door to the suite swung open, breaking the silent sanctuary.

Richard Vance strode into the room, his leather shoes clicking sharply against the linoleum. At sixty-seven, he possessed a powerful, deeply masculine presence. He wore a sharply tailored suit with an open-collar shirt, an expensive gold watch, and a heavy wedding ring. Close behind him followed his eldest son, Daniel, dressed in a crisp shirt, trousers, and polished shoes, alongside Daniel’s wife, Jessica, who wore a fitted blouse, a pencil skirt, shining earrings, a diamond ring, and high heels. All of them shared the same fair, rosy skin and distinctly white American features.

Maya looked up, her beautiful face shifting from exhausted peace to sudden apprehension. “Richard? What are you doing here? Where are the nurses?”

“We asked them for a moment of family privacy,” Richard said, his American accent smooth but laced with a terrifying, absolute authority. He did not look at Maya; his eyes were fixed entirely on the bassinets.

“Privacy for what?” Maya asked, her voice trembling slightly. “The babies are sleeping.”

Without answering, Richard stepped directly up to the bassinet. His large, manicured hands reached down and ruthlessly lifted one of the sleeping newborns from the warm blankets. The infant immediately began to fuss, the sudden movement waking it from its slumber.

“What are you doing?!” Maya gasped, lunging forward. She reached desperately from the bed, her bare feet tangling in the sheets.

Daniel and Jessica stood perfectly still at the foot of the bed, watching the scene unfold without a single ounce of surprise. Their fair faces were passive, complicit in whatever nightmare was unfolding.