Chapter 3 - The Shadow in the Nursery
Four weeks passed inside the Moretti estate, and the quiet rhythm of life began to transform the grand manor.
The twins thrived under Emma’s devoted care. Anthony gained two pounds, his pale cheeks turning rosy and chubby, while tiny Lucia began smiling whenever she heard Emma’s soft, soothing voice singing lullabies in the nursery.
Emma refused to stay locked in her guest wing. During the quiet hours between feedings, she brought her wood-carving tools into the sunroom, restoring antique music boxes she had brought from her shop in Astoria.
Gabriel found himself drawn to the sunroom almost every evening.
The man who usually spent sixteen hours a day managing multi-million-dollar shipping logistics and holding tense meetings with syndicate captains now sat quietly on the linen sofa, holding his son or daughter, watching Emma’s small, skillful hands restore delicate wooden gears and hand-painted porcelain music boxes.
"You fix things that everyone else thinks are broken," Gabriel said one evening, holding a sleeping Lucia against his chest as the soft light of sunset poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
"Nothing is ever truly broken beyond repair, Gabriel," Emma said softly, using a fine chisel to smooth the edge of a mahogany music box. "It just takes patience, time, and someone who cares enough to see what's beneath the damage."
Gabriel looked at her, his heart heavy with an emotion he hadn't felt since Isabella’s tragic death. He saw the gentle, fierce soul of a woman who had taken his motherless children into her arms and filled his hollow house with light.
"Isabella loved music boxes," Gabriel murmured quietly, his eyes darkening with distant memory. "She had a small collection from her grandmother. But... after she died, I couldn't bear to look at them. I locked her personal quarters."
Emma set her chisel down and looked at him gently. "Grief isn't something you lock away in a room, Gabriel. It just grows in the dark until it consumes you."
Before Gabriel could reply, the heavy double doors of the sunroom clicked open.
Frank Moretti stepped into the room, holding a thick leather folder. His eyes darted between Gabriel and Emma, taking in the warm, intimate atmosphere of the room with obvious displeasure.
"Gabriel," Frank said stiffly. "We have a situation at the Red Hook terminal. Customs officials seized three of our container ships carrying pharmaceutical supplies. The board is demanding an emergency meeting in the city tonight."
Gabriel’s brow furrowed in anger. "Customs? Our paperwork for those shipments was verified by Julian three days ago."
"Julian claims there was an accounting discrepancy," Frank replied smoothly. "You need to come to the city personally to handle it, Gabriel. I'll have the security detail ready in ten minutes."
Gabriel hesitated, looking down at Lucia in his arms, then at Emma.
"Go," Emma said softly, giving him a reassuring nod. "The twins are fed and safe. I'll be right here."
Gabriel stood up, carefully handing Lucia to Emma. He lingered for a fraction of a second, his hand brushing gently against Emma's shoulder.
"I'll be back before midnight," Gabriel said quietly. "Frank, leave four guards on the nursery floor."
"Of course," Frank nodded, bowing his head slightly as Gabriel exited the room.
However, once Gabriel’s car pulled down the long driveway and disappeared into the rainy night, an unsettling, heavy silence descended upon the estate.
By 10:00 PM, the twins were sound asleep in their cribs. Emma sat by the nursery window, stitching a small personalized blanket for Anthony.
Suddenly, baby Lucia let out a sharp, unnatural cry.
Emma immediately stood up and walked over to the crib. Lucia was writhing uncomfortably, her tiny face contorted in pain, her breathing becoming raspy and shallow. Seconds later, Anthony began whimpering as well, his forehead suddenly burning hot to the touch.
Emma’s heart slammed against her ribs in immediate panic.
"What's wrong, sweethearts?" Emma gasped, scooping Lucia into her arms.
She checked their temperature—both infants had developed a sudden, spike in fever within minutes.
Emma rushed to the nursery door and threw it open to call the on-duty private nurse, Nurse Sarah, who had been assigned by Frank to assist during night shifts.
The hallway was empty. The two guards who were supposed to be posted outside the door were nowhere to be found.
Emma ran down the corridor toward the medical pantry where the specialized baby supplements and distilled water were kept.
As she reached the door of the pantry, she heard hushed, tense voices coming from inside.
She froze, pressing her back against the cold wall, holding her breath.
"Is it done?" a man's voice demanded—a voice Emma instantly recognized as Julian Moretti.
"The fever-inducing compound was mixed into the distilled water two hours ago," Nurse Sarah’s voice replied, trembling with nervousness. "It mimics a sudden neonatal infection. When the twins are rushed to the hospital in the city, the medical team will report that the wet nurse’s milk was toxic or infected."
"Good," Julian spat coldly. "Once Gabriel believes her milk poisoned the kids, he'll kick her out of this house forever. Without her, those weak little brats won't survive another two weeks. And when Gabriel loses those kids, he won't have an heir left to inherit the estate. The board will vote me in as chairman by Monday."
"What about Frank?" Nurse Sarah asked in a hushed tone.
"Frank arranged the customs raid in Red Hook to pull Gabriel out of the house tonight," Julian sneered softly. "He's waiting at the hospital to handle the 'investigation.' Now move! Make sure she doesn't catch you!"
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Emma held her breath, her blood running cold as ice.
It hadn't been a tragedy three weeks ago when Isabella died. It had been a slow, calculated assassination. And now, the same traitors were poisoning Gabriel’s newborn twins just to steal an empire.
