Chapter 5
The name printed on the tiny plastic band was undeniable. It was the name he and his late wife had chosen. The name of the daughter he had buried three years ago.
Adrian stood perfectly still in the center of the vast, marble-floored study. His cold, intimidating eyes slowly lifted from the bracelet and locked onto his older sister. Claudia was shivering violently, the pink-and-white blanket still wrapped securely around her forearms, trapping her hands in front of her elegant business dress.
Beside the doorway, Ruby stood quietly next to her mother. The three-year-old girl in the yellow rain boots was clutching one loose, frayed corner of the blanket that hung down from Claudia's bound wrists.
Adrian took a slow, measured step toward his sister. The silence in the room was heavy, suffocating, and loaded with the promise of absolute violence.
"My daughter. Died in that hospital," Adrian said. His voice was quiet, lethal, and vibrating with a dark, apocalyptic fury. He paused, his sharp eyes pinning Claudia to the floor. "So how did her bracelet. End up inside Ruby’s blanket?"
Claudia’s fair, rosy face became utterly, genuinely frightened. The arrogant sneer had vanished entirely, replaced by the pale, sweaty mask of a woman who knew she was facing execution.
"It... it must be a coincidence," Claudia stammered, her voice cracking as she backed away until she bumped into the solid chests of the two bodyguards blocking the door. "Hospitals use the same blankets, Adrian. Thousands of them. They are mass-produced charity items. A nurse must have dropped the bracelet by mistake."
"Do not insult my intelligence. Claudia," Adrian whispered, taking another step forward. "A mother does not lose her child's identification band. She sewed it into the hem. To keep it safe. My wife sewed this."
"I don't know what you are talking about!" Claudia shrieked, desperately shaking her bound arms. "You are not thinking clearly! Grief is making you paranoid!"
Adrian turned his piercing gaze toward Elena. The twenty-six-year-old maid flinched, pulling Ruby closer to her legs.
"Elena," Adrian said, his voice lowering into a calm, terrifying hum. "Tell me exactly. Where you got this child."
"I gave birth to her, sir!" Elena cried, tears spilling over her rosy cheeks. "I delivered her at St. Jude’s Memorial! Three years ago! The nurses wrapped her in that blanket and handed her to me! I swear on my life, Mr. Blackwood, she is my daughter!"
"St. Jude’s," Adrian repeated softly, the name of the hospital acting as a catalyst for the explosive truth. "That is the same hospital. Where my wife died in childbirth. Three years ago."
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Elena gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in pure shock as the implications of his words hit her. "No... no, that's impossible. They told me my baby was healthy. They handed her to me in the recovery ward!"
"Someone handed you a baby," Adrian corrected, his voice dead and cold. He looked back at his sister, who was now weeping silently in terror. "A baby wrapped in my wife's blanket."
