The relentless, rhythmic beeping of the EKG monitor in Room 402 was a sound Clara had come to despise. Yet, it was the only thing keeping her anchored to sanity.

The Van Der Beek estate in the Hamptons was less a home and more a fortress. Ten-foot iron gates, security cameras, and armed guards separated the billionaire dynasty from the rest of the world.

Elena parked her battered Civic at the security checkpoint. The guard in the booth looked at her with polite disdain.

"Can I help you, miss? This is private property."

"I have an appointment," Elena said, her voice shaking slightly despite her resolve. "My name is Elena... My name is Chloe. Chloe Van Der Beek."

The guard’s expression froze. He reached for his radio, murmuring something unintelligible. Five minutes later, the massive iron gates slowly swung open.

Elena drove up the mile-long driveway, her tires crunching on imported gravel. Waiting for her on the marble steps of the estate was a tall man in his late fifties, his silver hair perfectly coiffed, wearing a bespoke suit. It was Richard Van Der Beek. Her biological father.

Beside him stood a younger man in his early thirties, his face a mirror image of Richard's cold, calculating features. This must be Julian, the younger brother born after her kidnapping—the current heir apparent to the empire.

Elena stepped out of her car, clutching the black lockbox to her chest.

Richard didn't run to her. He didn't cry. He simply stared at her, his eyes tracing the line of her jaw, the shape of her eyes, and finally resting on the collar of her blouse.

"Show me," Richard demanded, his voice a gravelly baritone devoid of emotion.

Elena slowly pulled aside the fabric of her collar, revealing the star-shaped birthmark.