Chapter 4
The revelation hit Adrian with the force of a physical blow, though his imposing, masculine frame did not betray a single flinch. His cold, intimidating eyes remained locked on the broken plastic clasp of the identification bracelet. In a high-security maternity ward, those bracelets were designed to be impossible to remove without a specialized tool or brute, destructive force. They were the hospital's primary defense against infant abduction and identity swapping.
The dark pigment was a theatrical distraction. The broken bracelet was a catastrophic security breach.
"Nurse," Adrian said, his low, raspy voice echoing with a dark, measured cadence. "Examine this clasp."
The Charge Nurse stepped closer, leaning over Adrian’s tailored dark suit to inspect the baby’s ankle under the bright, cinematic white lighting. She reached out with her gloved hands and touched the plastic band. Her fair, rosy face immediately drained of all color.
"Oh my god," the nurse whispered, her American accent trembling with sudden, profound alarm. "The locking mechanism has been intentionally snapped. This bracelet was removed."
"Removed?" Linda gasped, stepping forward from the other side of the bed. "Why would anyone remove his ID bracelet?!"
Margaret’s eyes darted frantically around the room. The carefully constructed narrative she had planned—a simple accusation of infidelity fueled by some cosmetic powder—was rapidly unraveling into a highly severe, criminal investigation orchestrated by her own son.
"The plastic must be defective!" Margaret blurted out, her voice pitching higher as panic set in. She took a rapid step toward Adrian, her expensive heels clicking loudly. She reached her hands out toward the baby’s ankle, desperate to tamper with the evidence or snatch the bracelet away before Adrian could fully process the implications. "Let me see that, Adrian. These hospitals use the cheapest materials nowadays. It probably just broke when the nurse picked him up!"
As Margaret’s manicured hand reached toward the broken bracelet, Adrian moved with blinding, explosive speed.
Without relinquishing his gentle, secure hold on his newborn son, Adrian’s free hand shot out like a striking viper. He caught Margaret’s wrist in a vise-like grip just inches before she could touch the baby. The heavy family signet ring on his finger dug painfully into her fair skin.
Margaret let out a sharp, breathless gasp of pain, her eyes widening in absolute shock as she looked up into her son's face.
"Do not touch him," Adrian growled, his volume remaining lethally low, forcing her to lean into the terrifying threat of his words.
"Adrian, you are hurting me!" Margaret whimpered, trying to pull her arm back, but his grip was like iron.
"You attempted to alter his skin," Adrian whispered slowly, his sharp eyes burning into hers. "You attempted to brand my wife a liar. And now, I find the only thing proving this child belongs in this room has been broken."
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"I didn't break it!" Margaret lied desperately, her chest heaving beneath her expensive silk blouse. "I was only looking at him!"
Adrian did not blink. His mind, honed by years of surviving and ruling the violent, treacherous world of the American Mafia, connected the pieces with terrifying clarity. He released her wrist, letting her arm drop to her side. But the punishment was far from over.
