All Chapters of Ties of a Contract: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

SophiaThe silence of the early morning is broken only by the sound of heavy rain pounding the city. In the neonatal ICU hallway, the medical team moves with careful precision, preparing Oliver and Noah for transfer. Every action is meticulously planned—the babies are gently placed in special mobile incubators equipped with portable monitors that record each beat of their tiny hearts.“Their saturation is stable,” says Dr. Chen, her eyes fixed on the numbers on the monitors. She is among the country’s top neonatal specialists, personally chosen by Alexander to oversee the transfer. “But we need to keep up the pace. The less time in transit, the better for them.”Alexander looks like a statue beside the incubators. The incident with Matthews has changed him—his features are harder, shaped by a constant tension that makes him look years older. His hands, once so steady, now tremble slightly when they touch the acrylic shield protecting our children.Dominic enters the ICU, a serious exp

AlexanderA soft touch on my shoulder wakes me. For a moment, I feel disoriented in an unfamiliar setting, until the distinct smell of a hospital and the rhythmic beeping of monitors bring me back to reality. My back aches from sleeping in such an uncomfortable chair, but I was so exhausted that it didn’t stop me from dozing off.“Sorry to wake you,” Dominic says quietly, his tense expression revealing that he has important news. “But we need to talk.”I glance at Sophia, asleep in the chair next to the incubators. Her face looks serene for the first time in days, one of her hands stretching out toward the babies even in sleep. I stand up carefully so as not to wake her, my body protesting with each movement.“What did you find out?” I ask, running a hand over my face in an attempt to shake off the sleep.Dominic leads me to a more secluded corner of the room, carrying that familiar folder of documents.“Matthews talked,” he says, opening the folder to reveal pages of testimony. “Vict

AlexanderA restless sleep leaves me with a strange feeling. Something is different. I jolt awake in the small hospital bed, my body tense. Sophia is asleep beside me, her warm body against mine, but the babies’ monitors are silent.Total silence.I leap to my feet, heart pounding. The incubators are empty. No beeping, no soft sound of my children’s breathing.“Sophia!” I call, shaking her lightly.She wakes up disoriented, her eyes widening when she sees my expression.“The babies…”“I’ll call a nurse,” I say, already rushing to the door.The corridor is deserted. The fluorescent lights flicker unevenly, throwing unsettling shadows on the walls. There is no sign of the medical team, of any security personnel, of anyone.I return to the room and grab my phone to call Dominic. No signal. I try the room’s landline. Dead.“Alexander,” Sophia says, her voice trembling. “Look.”On the armchair where Victoria’s documents lay, there’s a note in a handwriting I’d recognize anywhere:“They loo

AlexanderDominic’s office is cluttered with documents, photos, and evidence spread across his desk. It’s my first time leaving the clinic in days—I left Sophia and the babies under extra security—because he insisted he needed to show me something in person.“We found this,” he says, sliding a manila envelope toward me. “In the apartment where Victoria was staying.”Inside the envelope are old photos. My mother in the hospital, Victoria in the background wearing a nurse’s uniform. Then pictures of her with my father, taken long before they were married. And finally, a series of images of me asleep, all from when I was fifteen years old.“She planned everything,” I mutter, feeling bile rise in my throat. “From the very start.”“There’s more,” Dominic hesitates. “We found a hidden safe behind a false panel. Inside it…”He slides another folder toward me. These are my mother’s medical records, with notes scrawled in the margins in Victoria’s handwriting. Dosages, schedules, substances ad

SophiaNight creeps slowly through the clinic as we finalize preparations for discharge. I watch Alexander carefully pack the small bag of clothes we bought for the twins—all still far too big for them, but the smallest we could find.“Dr. Chen confirmed the final tests look great,” I say, folding a tiny blue onesie. “Their oxygen saturation is stable.”Alexander nods, but I can tell his mind is elsewhere. Ever since he got back from meeting with Dominic last night, there’s been a different tension in his shoulders.The babies sleep in their incubators, oblivious to all the bustle. In a few hours, we’ll face the most critical moment since their births: the transfer.“Alexander,” I call softly. “Where are you right now?”He stops folding clothes, his hands trembling slightly.“Thinking about everything that could go wrong,” he admits. “Victoria is unpredictable. She always shows up when we least expect it.”I move closer to him, touching his face.“That’s why our plan will work. She ex