Chapter 14 - Bloodline and Ashes
Silence swallowed the room until only the low hum of the medical monitors remained.
"Claire," Sebastian spoke, his voice dangerously calm, though a storm raged beneath the surface. "Did you ever donate eggs? To a clinic? To research?"
"Never!" Claire cried, her voice cracking with pure shock. "I've never done anything like that! Sebastian, I swear on my life, I don't understand how this could be possible!"
Sebastian took her by the arms. His grip was firm, yet remarkably tender, steadying her trembling frame. "Look at me, Claire. Look at me."
Claire looked up, tears blurring her vision, terrified that he would suspect her of playing a part in some monstrous scheme against him. But when she met his dark eyes, she saw no suspicion—only an overwhelming, protective resolve.
"I believe you," Sebastian said softly, his thumbs brushing lightly against the fabric of her sleeves. "I have survived in this world by knowing when someone is lying to me. You are pure, Claire. You saved my life when I sat in that NICU broken and defeated. You saved Leo. You didn't do this."
"Then who?" she sobbed quietly. "How can that baby carry my family’s blood?"
"Your father," Sebastian said with chilling clarity. "Arthur Miller wasn't just a pediatric doctor. Fourteen years ago, after Leo was taken from me, Arthur approached me in secret. He claimed he had a lead on the syndicate faction that kidnapped my boy. I gave him two million dollars to pursue it. A month later, Arthur claimed the trail went cold."
"My father took money from you?" Claire asked, reeling.
"He didn't just take money," Dante interjected from the doorway, holding a newly decrypted ledger file. "Boss, we just cross-referenced Dr. Miller’s old personal research files from the St. Jude's basement vault. Arthur Miller wasn't searching for Leo to rescue him. He was hiding him. He placed Leo in that untraceable group home system."
Claire stepped back, her knees threatening to buckle. Her father—the gentle, smiling man who had tucked her in at night and taught her to listen to infant heartbeats with a stethoscope—had been an architect of Sebastian Moretti’s greatest tragedy.
"Why?" Claire choked out. "Why would he do that to you? To Leo?"
"Because," a voice rasped from the shadows of the doorway.
May you like
They turned. Leo stood there, his eyes wide and haunted, holding an old leather-bound notebook he had found in the library's historical archives.
"Because my mother wasn't just your wife, Dad," Leo said, his voice cracking with emotion. "Her maiden name was Elena Miller. She was Claire’s older half-sister."
