Chapter 3 - The Gathering Storm
The Maybach pulled into the gated courtyard of the Marchetti Estate—a massive stone fortress overlooking the Hudson River.
Within an hour, Noelle found herself sitting in a warm, velvet-lined nursery on the second floor. She wore a soft silk robe provided by Damian’s staff, her wet clothes removed, a warm mug of tea sitting untouched on the nightstand.
In her arms, she held the little girl—whose real name was Clara. On the soft rug beside her feet, the two boys, Leo and Sam, were playing with wooden blocks, constantly looking up to make sure Noelle hadn't disappeared.
Every time she touched their soft skin, every time she inhaled the sweet baby-powder scent of their hair, a piece of her broken heart stitched itself back together.
The heavy oak door opened. Damian stepped inside, having changed into a dark turtleneck and trousers. He looked at Noelle holding Clara, his expression unreadable, though a subtle soften in his eyes gave him away.
"They haven't cried once since we arrived," Damian noted softly, leaning against the doorframe.
"They were hungry," Noelle said, smiling through her exhaustion as Clara nuzzled against her shoulder. "And their diapers were put on backwards."
A faint, rare smirk touched Damian's lips. "I hire the best security guards in the country, but they're terrible nannies."
He walked over and sat on the leather sofa opposite her. The atmosphere between them had shifted. They were no longer a billionaire mob boss and a fired waitress. They were two victims of a monstrous crime, bound together by three innocent lives.
"My legal team and my... private operatives have been working for the last two hours," Damian stated calmly. "Dr. Victor Sterling isn't just a dirty doctor. He runs an illegal, high-end adoption ring for the ultra-wealthy, using low-income mothers without family support as targets."
Noelle’s eyes widened in horror. "My mother was dying in hospice when I gave birth. I was entirely alone. He knew no one would question him..."
"He counted on you being too poor and too heartbroken to fight back," Damian said, his voice dropping into an icy, dangerous tone. "He didn't count on your children recognizing you. And he certainly didn't count on them ending up in my house."
"What happens now?" Noelle asked, a sudden panic seizing her chest as she tightened her grip on Clara. "Are you... are you going to take them away from me?"
Damian looked at her—at her worn hands, her fierce protective posture, the pure, untainted motherly love radiating from her.
"I am a man of many sins, Noelle," Damian said quietly. "But I do not steal children from mothers who love them. You are staying here. At the estate. Safe, protected, and fully funded."
"And Dr. Sterling?" she whispered.
May you like
Damian stood up, adjusting his watch.
"Dr. Sterling has a gala tonight at the St. Regis Hotel," Damian replied, a terrifying, beautiful coldness entering his eyes. "He is celebrating his appointment as Chairman of the State Medical Board. I think it’s time we pay him a visit."
