Chapter 1 The One She Had to Let Go

Rain tapped softly against the hospital window, a lullaby for no one in particular. The lights in the delivery room were harsh, sterile, but Juliette Brooks barely noticed them. Her whole world had narrowed to the sound of her own ragged breathing and the tiny, fragile cries echoing from across the room.

"Congratulations," the nurse said gently, voice hesitant. "You've... you've given birth to four children."

Quadruplets.

The word barely registered. Juliette's exhausted eyes fluttered open as another contraction wracked her body. Her hands trembled on the bloodied sheets, her skin pale and slick with sweat. She had no strength left, no voice to speak. The pain was no longer just physical-it had taken root deep in her soul.

She turned her head just enough to see the swaddled bundles across the room, each one fragile and pink and impossibly small. But her gaze immediately locked onto the one the nurses were surrounding.

The tiniest. The quietest.

The one who didn't cry.

"Doctor?" she whispered, voice hoarse. "What's wrong with that one?"

The pediatrician exchanged a grave look with the nurse before approaching her gently.

"Miss Brooks... out of your four newborns, two are experiencing severe health complications."

He paused, then continued carefully. "One of the babies-the quietest-didn't survive. The other is showing signs of a

congenital platelet disorder, possibly bone marrow-related. Without immediate and continuous treatment, his condition may..."

She didn't need to hear the rest.

Juliette closed her eyes and sank into the bed, her body shaking, not from the aftershocks of childbirth-but from the terror of

losing him.

Her fourth child had already died within minutes of birth-umbilical complications, they said. She never even got to hold that baby. One of her children had entered this world and left it before she could give him a name.

And now, this one... her third-born... was on the brink.

She had no money. No support. Her stepmother had stolen her inheritance. Her father had signed her company away the same week Logan gave her the divorce papers. She had walked out of that house carrying hope, but now?

Now all she had were three living children. And only two of them might survive long enough to know her love.

"I need to see him," she whispered.

The nurse hesitated, then brought the small bundle to her chest. Juliette looked down at the frail little face tucked beneath the edge

of the hospital blanket. He wasn't crying, but he was breathing-barely. His little fists curled weakly, as if clinging to life by instinct alone.

She kissed his forehead, salty tears spilling down her cheeks. Her voice cracked when she said, "Sweety... You'll be okay, won't

you?"

He was too tired to respond. But he blinked once-slowly-and that was enough.

That single flicker of life tore her apart.

...

It rained harder that night.

Juliette sat alone in the hospital room long after the nurses had left, her arms wrapped tightly around the tiny child cradled against her chest. The other two babies-Jace and Callie-slept peacefully in the bassinet nearby, their breathing light and rhythmic. They

would be safe. She'd make sure of it, even if she had to work herself to death to protect them.

But Julian?

Julian needed something she couldn't give him.

Logan's face surfaced in her mind-the sharp line of his jaw, the cold distance in his eyes, the disdain in his voice when he said,

"You seduced me. You're nothing but a liar."

He hated her.

He believed she'd tricked him into marriage for money. That she'd sold herself. That every smile she gave him had been fake.

But he didn't know about the child she'd carried out of that house. And he didn't know about this one-this delicate little soul who bore his blood.

She looked down at Julian, who had fallen asleep against her chest, his breathing shallow and uneven.

"I'm sorry, baby," she whispered. "I don't want to give you up. But if I keep you... you might not make it."

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

She had carried these children in her womb for nine months. She had walked away from a marriage, from a name, from a family legacy. She had given up everything, and still it wasn't enough.

Still... she wasn't enough.

...

At dawn, Juliette slipped out of the hospital in silence.

She wore a simple coat over her hospital gown, her hair hastily tied back, her body still aching with every step. She moved like a ghost, cradling the smallest of her children in her arms, wrapped tightly in a soft blue blanket.

She bribed a supply truck driver who delivered goods to Cross's estate. Just a hundred dollars and a request-"Please, leave this child at the front gate. That's all I ask."

The man gave her a long look, but nodded. He didn't ask questions.

Juliette tucked a folded note into the edge of the blanket, her hands trembling. It was the only thing she had left to say.

'Logan Cross, This is your biological son. His name is Julian. He needs medical care only you can provide. If you don't believe he's yours, take a paternity test. But please... don't let him die. -Juliette Brooks'

The moment the truck rumbled out of sight, Juliette collapsed onto the curb, hands pressed over her mouth to stop the sobs.

It wasn't fair that she had to beg the man who hated her to save her child.

It wasn't fair that she couldn't even hold her son when he opened his eyes again.

But this was the price of motherhood.

And if she had to be the villain in Logan's story forever to keep Julian alive-so be it.

She stood at last, wiped her tears, and turned her back on the estate.

As she walked away, she whispered to the morning sky, "One day... I'll come back for you. And you'll know I never stopped loving you."

***