Three days after an emergency C-section, my husband arrived with his assistant to force me to sign the divorce papers so he could keep our twin daughters.

Not mine.

But with my name.

“He used your identity,” Megan said.

I nodded.

“For months.”

Back in his luxury apartment, Daniel was already losing patience.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” he snapped.

“Sir, her phone is off—”

“Then try harder!”

He hung up.

Turned.

And saw her.

Ashley.

Standing there, no longer as confident as before.

“Everything’s under control,” she said quickly.

Daniel stared at her.

“It better be.”