Chapter 12 - The Paper Trail
The Moretti estate, Haven Crest, sat nestled within sixty acres of densely forested cliffs overlooking the sound. It was less of a house and more of an impenetrable fortress of stone, iron, and glass. Yet, inside, the private medical suite was warmer and more advanced than even St. Jude’s premier neonatal wing.
Claire spent the first two hours settling Baby Miller into a top-of-the-line isolette, monitoring his oxygen levels and administering his feeding tube. Leo hovered nearby, leaning against the doorframe with quiet fascination, watching how Claire gently massaged the infant's back to ease his digestion.
"He's so small," Leo murmured, walking over on quiet feet. "Did I look like that when I was born?"
Claire looked up, offering the boy a gentle, reassuring smile. "You were a little bigger, but just as stubborn. Sebastian said you had a grip that could break fingers from the day you opened your eyes."
Leo smiled faintly, a flash of boyish innocence shining through his guarded demeanor. "He kept that bracelet for fourteen years. I thought... I thought nobody was looking for me."
"He never stopped," Claire said softly, placing a comforting hand over Leo's. "Not for a single day."
The door swung open, and Sebastian strode into the room, having shed his bloodstained overcoat for a crisp black shirt. He held a thick manila folder under his arm. His gaze lingered first on Claire and the sleeping infant, then on Leo.
"Leo," Sebastian said gently. "Mrs. Gable made supper in the main dining hall. Go eat. Get some real food in you, son. We’ll talk more before you sleep."
Leo nodded, glancing at Claire once more before slipping quietly out of the room, flanked by two discreet guards stationed in the hallway.
Once the door clicked shut, Sebastian approached the isolette. He stared at Baby Miller, his features softening as he reached out a single calloused finger. The infant's tiny hand instantly latched onto his knuckle.
"He's gaining weight," Sebastian observed quietly.
"Two ounces since yesterday," Claire replied, her voice soft in the quiet nursery. "His lungs are expanding well. He's a fighter, Sebastian. Just like his brother."
Sebastian nodded, though the storm in his dark eyes had not dissipated. He placed the manila folder on the medical cart beside her.
"Dante managed to crack the primary encryption on the clinic's digital archives," Sebastian said, his tone chillingly level. "Baby Miller was gestated at a private clinic named the Genesis Pavilion in Upstate New York. The surrogate was paid four hundred thousand dollars in cash, delivered via an offshore trust fund."
Claire opened the file, her eyes scanning the sanitized medical jargon, donor codes, and wire transfer slips. "Was there a name on the trust?"
"The trust is registered under an old maritime shell company called *Sirena Marine*," Sebastian answered.
Claire stopped breathing. Her hand froze on the page.
May you like
Sebastian noticed instantly. "Claire? What is it?"
"My father..." Claire whispered, her voice trembling as she looked up into Sebastian’s piercing gaze. "Before he died... he did medical consulting work for a shipping firm. He kept an old brass model of a vessel in his study at our family home. The name painted on the hull was *The Sirena*."
