Chapter 2 - The Scrubbed Archive
The grand banquet hall emptied within three minutes under the threat of drawn weapons. Victor’s chief security officer, Marcus, along with eight heavily armed guards, escorted the terrified guests out into the rainy night, securing the estate perimeter.
Inside Victor’s private, dark-paneled study, the atmosphere was suffocating. Heavy velvet drapes blocked out the storm outside, while a single brass lamp illuminated the massive mahogany desk.
Celeste sat pinned in a heavy leather chair, two armed guards standing directly behind her. She dabbed a silk handkerchief against her swollen cheek, her icy eyes burning with frantic calculation.
Across the room, Clara sat on a velvet sofa, holding a warm cup of tea. Ellie was curled up beside her, her small head resting comfortably on Clara's lap, her tiny fingers holding Clara's sleeve as if she were terrified the maid would vanish into thin air.
Victor stood by the high glass windows, his midnight-black tuxedo jacket discarded, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, revealing his broad, battle-hardened chest. Gold cufflinks glinted under the dim light as he poured himself a glass of bourbon.
"Speak, Celeste," Victor said, his voice flat and terrifyingly calm. "Before I let Marcus handle the interrogation."
"Victor, darling, she's insane!" Celeste stammered, her voice high-pitched and defensive. "She's a mentally unstable maid who memorized a song from an old music box in the nursery! The mark on her wrist is probably from a psychiatric clinic!"
Victor didn't argue. He picked up his secure satellite phone, dialing his private physician and lead medical researcher, Dr. Harrison. He placed the call on speaker.
"Dr. Harrison," Victor said quietly. "Check the archived birth records for Saint Jude’s Private Hospital from eight years ago. Search for an unlisted emergency C-section on September 14th."
The line fell quiet for twenty seconds, save for the rapid clicking of a computer keyboard on the other end.
"Mr. Moretti..." Dr. Harrison’s voice came through the speaker, raspy and visibly shaken. "The digital records for that entire month have been scrubbed from the main server. But I just accessed the secondary offline backup."
Victor’s dark eyes narrowed. "What does it say?"
"Eight years ago, a woman was brought into the VIP ward under a john-doe intake code," Dr. Harrison reported. "She delivered a healthy baby girl. But forty minutes after delivery, the attending physician signed a fake death certificate for the mother, declared the infant stillborn, and transferred the mother to a private psychiatric facility under a heavy dose of amnesiac sedatives."
Clara let out a broken, agonizing sob, covering her mouth with her hand.
"Who signed the intake order, Harrison?" Victor growled softly.
"The order was signed by Dr. Vance... and co-signed by Celeste's private trust fund account."
The room plunged into absolute, dead silence.
Celeste’s face turned as pale as white chalk. She backed against her chair, her manicured fingers digging into the leather. "It's a forgery! Someone hacked the server!"
May you like
Before Victor could step toward her, Dr. Harrison’s voice cut back through the phone, frantic and panicked: "Mr. Moretti! Someone just initiated an emergency remote wipe of the hospital's central server! My terminal is being erased right now! They know we're looking!"
A loud metallic crash echoed from the estate's lower garage down the hallway.
