Damien's POV
My father was building another facility, and I was the one funding it.
That's what the offshore account showed. My money. My signature. My authorization for "Project Genesis Phase Two."
I stared at the bank records Vincent had uncovered, feeling my world collapse again.
"When?" My voice was dead. "When did I supposedly approve this?"
"Three months ago." Vincent's face was grim. "Right after the FBI raid. While you were dealing with lawyers and media, someone accessed your accounts and transferred forty million dollars to shell companies in Singapore."
"My father."
"Or someone working for him." Vincent pulled up more files. "Damien, there's something else. The twelve children we rescued? DNA tests came back. Only three are actually yours."
My blood froze. "What?"
"The other nine belong to other men. Wealthy men. Politicians. CEOs." He showed me a list of names that made my stomach turn. "Your father wasn't just building a breeding program for the Wolfe family. He was selling it. Custom-designed children for the elite. Fifty million per child."
I was going to be sick.
"How many?" I asked. "How many children did he sell?"
"We don't know. The files we recovered only go back five years. But based on the money trail..." Vincent hesitated. "Hundreds. Maybe more. All over the world."
Hundreds of children. Manufactured. Sold. Scattered.
And I'd been too blind to see it.
"The Arias," I said quietly. "Where are they now?"
"Safe house in Brooklyn. All six of them, plus Jessica and the twelve kids. They're trying to figure out their next move."
"And my—" I couldn't say it. "And Aria Zhang? Is she okay?"
Vincent's expression softened. "She asks about you. Every day. Wants to know if you're eating. Sleeping. If you blame her for any of this."
"Blame her? She's a victim!"
"So are you, Damien." He met my eyes. "Your father manipulated you your entire life. You didn't know."
But I should have. That's what ate at me. I should have questioned. Should have looked deeper. Should have cared enough to see past my own blind obedience.
"I need to see her," I said.
"Bad idea. Marcus is still out there. He's watching. If you lead him to the safe house—"
My phone buzzed. Unknown number.
A video file.
I pressed play with shaking hands.
The footage showed a facility. Clean. Modern. Medical equipment everywhere.
And rows of cribs. Twenty, maybe thirty of them.
Babies. All of them newborns.
A woman's voice narrated: "Generation Six is progressing well. All subjects are healthy. We'll begin placement with approved families next month. Project Genesis continues."
The camera panned to show a man in a white coat.
My father. Very much alive. Very much still operating.
"Hello, son," Marcus said into the camera. "Did you think you won? Did you think exposing one facility would stop me? I've been doing this for thirty years. I have resources you can't imagine. Connections you'll never find."
He picked up one of the babies. Held it like a trophy.
"This is your brother. Or maybe your nephew. Hard to keep track." His smile was poison. "I used your sperm from the bank. Thought it would be poetic. You're creating the next generation even while you try to destroy me."
I dropped the phone like it burned.
"He can't—" I couldn't breathe. "That's not possible. I never—"
"The breeding program," Vincent said quietly. "They collected from you years ago. Told you it was for 'medical insurance.' Remember?"
I did remember. Age twenty-three. My father insisted. Said it was standard procedure for heirs.
I'd given him ammunition to create more children without my knowledge.
"How many?" I whispered.
"We're tracking it now. But Damien..." Vincent pulled up another file. "There's worse. Those babies in the video? The DNA analysis we ran shows mixed markers. They're not just using one genetic profile anymore."
"What does that mean?"
"They're combining them. Taking the Aria template and mixing it with multiple male profiles to create genetic diversity. More products to sell. Each one unique but still controllable."
My chest tightened. "So they're evolving. Getting better at this."
"And harder to track. These children won't look identical. Won't fit a pattern. They could be anywhere."
A text came through. Marcus again.
Tick tock, son. Every minute you waste, I create three more. Every facility you find, I've already built two replacements. You can't stop me. But I'll give you one chance. Come alone to the address below. Midnight tonight. Let's discuss terms. Maybe I'll let the Arias live. Maybe I'll even let you raise one of your new siblings. All you have to do is join me. Help me build instead of destroy.
The address was in New Jersey. An abandoned warehouse.
Obviously a trap.
"Don't even think about it," Vincent said.
"What choice do I have? He's making more children every day. Using my DNA. Selling babies like products." I stood up. "I have to end this."
"By walking into his trap? He'll kill you!"
"Maybe that's what needs to happen." I grabbed my coat. "Alert the FBI. Give them the address. But give me a thirty-minute head start."
"Damien—"
"If I die tonight, everything I own goes to the Arias and those children. I've already updated my will. They'll have enough money to hide forever. To build new lives." I headed for the door. "It's the least I can do."
Vincent grabbed my arm. "What about Aria? Your Aria? The one who asks about you every day?"
I thought of her lonely eyes. Her desperate attempts to make me care. The way she'd looked at me with something like hope before I crushed it repeatedly.
"Tell her..." I stopped. What could I tell her? Sorry? I love you? Both felt too small for what I'd done.
"Tell her she's free," I said finally. "Free from me. Free from my father. Free from all of this."
I left before he could argue.
The drive to New Jersey took forty minutes. The warehouse looked exactly like I expected—dark, empty, perfect for murder.
I walked in alone.
The space was massive. Silent. My footsteps echoed.
"Hello, son." Marcus stepped from the shadows. Not alone. Six armed guards surrounded him.
"I'm here. Let's talk."
"No talking necessary." He smiled. "Just a simple choice. Join me or join your mother."
One of the guards raised a gun.
Then the lights exploded. Gunfire erupted from everywhere.
I hit the ground as chaos erupted.
When the smoke cleared, Marcus's guards were down. New figures emerged from the darkness.
Six identical women. The Arias. All armed. All furious.
And leading them, holding a gun with surprising steadiness, was my Aria.
"Hello, husband," she said coldly. "Did you really think we'd let you die alone? Did you think we'd hide while you played hero?"
Behind them, more women appeared. Dozens of them. All former carriers. All Marcus's victims.
"We followed you," Aria continued. "All of us. We've been tracking Marcus for weeks. And tonight, we're ending this. Together."
Marcus laughed. "Touching. But pointless. You think killing me stops anything? The program is bigger than me now. Other men run it. Other facilities operate independently. I'm just one head of a hydra."
"Then we cut off all the heads," Jessica said, stepping forward. She held up a tablet. "While you were monologuing, we just uploaded every file from your servers. Every client. Every facility. Every child. It's all going public in three... two..."
Her tablet pinged.
"Done. The whole world knows now."
Marcus's face contorted with rage. He pulled a gun, aimed at Aria—my Aria.
I moved without thinking. Threw myself between them.
The gunshot was deafening.
I felt the bullet hit. Felt my legs give out.
Aria screamed. Caught me as I fell.
"No! Damien, no!"
"Worth it," I whispered. Blood soaked my shirt. "You're worth it."
More gunshots. Marcus went down, taken by six women who'd once been his property.
Sirens wailed outside. The FBI finally arriving.
"Stay with me!" Aria pressed her hands against my chest, trying to stop the bleeding. Tears streamed down her face. "Don't you dare die! Not now! Not after everything!"
"Tell the children..." My vision blurred. "Tell them I'm sorry."
"Tell them yourself!" She sobbed. "Vincent! Ambulance! Now!"
The last thing I saw before darkness took me was six identical faces surrounding me, all crying, all begging me to stay alive.
And I realized, too late, that I wanted to.
I wanted to live.