Chapter 3 - The Ghost of Saint Jude’s
The interior of Damian Caruso’s Maybach SUV was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Rain poured in heavy sheets against the bulletproof glass as the vehicle tore through the dark streets of the city toward the exclusive enclave of Harbor Heights.
Leah sat in my lap, her small head resting against my collarbone. She had finally stopped crying, but her tiny fingers remained hooked into the fabric of my sweater. Every few seconds, she would open her eyes, look up at my face to make sure I was still there, and let out a soft, contented sigh before closing her eyes again.
Damian sat across from us in the plush leather captain’s chair. His laptop was open on his knee, the screen illuminating the sharp, harsh angles of his face as he typed rapidly.
"I’m running a background check on Dr. Arthur Sterling," Damian said without looking up. "He retired six months after Leah was born. He bought a luxury villa in the South of France and dropped off the grid entirely."
"He was my doctor throughout my third trimester," I said, my voice trembling as memories I had spent two years trying to forget came flooding back. "I was young, I didn't have money, and my baby’s father had abandoned me the moment I showed him the positive test. Dr. Sterling told me I was high-risk. He insisted I come to Saint Jude’s late at night for my checkups so he could 'give me free care out of charity.'"
Damian’s jaw tightened so hard I heard his teeth grind. "It wasn't charity, Maya. It was a shopping trip."
"What do you mean?"
Damian slammed his laptop shut. "My late wife, Vanessa, came from an old-money mafia dynasty in Chicago. Her family demanded a male heir to consolidate our shipping contracts. When Vanessa found out she was having a girl, and then discovered her heart was failing, she went insane with panic. She knew if she died without delivering an heir, her family would pull their backing from my firm."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his dark eyes locking onto mine.
"I never knew what Vanessa did behind my back during those final weeks," Damian confessed, his voice thick with self-hatred. "I was managing three international deals. I trusted her. I trusted the hospital. If Vanessa paid Dr. Sterling to find a healthy baby girl from a mother who had no family, no money, and no power to fight back... then I have been raising another woman’s child for two years while her real mother suffered in hell."
"She isn't 'another woman’s child'!" I blurted out, pulling Leah closer to my chest. "If she's mine... she was stolen from me!"
"I know," Damian said softly. He didn't get angry. He didn't pull rank. He just looked at me with an agonizing mix of guilt and sorrow. "And if the DNA test proves she is yours, Maya... I swear on my life, the men who did this to you will answer to me before the night is over."
The SUV pulled up to the high security gates of the Caruso estate—a sprawling, fortress-like manor surrounded by high stone walls, security cameras, and armed guards patrolling the perimeter.
As the iron gates swung open, a black Mercedes was already parked in the circular driveway. A middle-aged man in a sharp medical coat was standing near the front steps, carrying a metallic silver briefcase.
"Dr. Harrison," Damian said as we stepped out into the rain, holding an umbrella over Leah and me to keep the drops from touching us. "Is the rapid sequencer ready?"
May you like
"Fully calibrated, Damian," Dr. Harrison replied, looking curiously at me and the little girl sleeping soundly in my arms. "What is so urgent that it couldn't wait until morning?"
"We are verifying a bloodline," Damian said coldly, guiding us through the massive mahogany doors into the grand foyer. "And uncovering a crime."
