Chapter 5 - Unraveling the Syndicate of St. Jude’s
By Wednesday morning, Blackwood Manor was transformed into an operational war room.
Dozens of high-powered attorneys, forensic accountants, and private investigators filed in and out of the ground-floor library. Outside, security was tripled. Tactical guards in plain clothes patrolled the perimeter, while armored SUVs stood ready in the courtyard.
Noelle sat in the private sunroom overlooking the manicured gardens, holding Mateo while Leo and Clara played with soft wooden blocks on the rug at her feet. She was dressed in a soft cream sweater and silk trousers provided by Damian’s personal staff—a far cry from her stained waitress uniform.
The door opened, and Damian walked in.
He looked striking in a charcoal suit, but the dark circles under his eyes spoke of a man who hadn't slept a single minute. He carried a silver tray with fresh tea and pastries, setting it on the table beside her.
"You don't have to serve me, Damian," Noelle said softly, giving him a warm, gentle smile.
"I want to," Damian replied, taking a seat beside her on the sofa. He reached down and affectionately ruffled Mateo’s dark curls before looking at Noelle. "Our legal team has secured a sealed protective order from Federal Judge Vance. Your parental rights are officially registered, and an emergency custody order places the children under our joint care."
Noelle let out a long breath she felt she had been holding for days. "And Dr. Harrison?"
Damian’s jaw tightened. "Harrison realized something went wrong the moment I bought Rosalie’s Diner. He attempted to board a private flight to Switzerland at 3:00 AM."
Noelle gasped, her grip on Mateo tightening. "Did he get away?"
"Reyes stopped him at the airfield," Damian said calmly, taking a sip of his tea. "Dr. Harrison is currently resting in a private holding facility owned by my security firm downtown. He is being... questioned."
Noelle looked into Damian's dark eyes. She knew what "questioned" meant in Damian’s world, but after fourteen months of agony, she couldn't bring herself to feel an ounce of sympathy for the doctor who had stolen her infants.
"What did he tell you?" she asked.
"He confirmed everything," Damian explained. "Harrison ran an elite black-market infant trafficking ring out of St. Jude's for eight years. He targeted young, uninsured, or vulnerable women who entered the maternity ward alone. He faked infant death certificates, paid off hospital nurses, and sold the children to high-profile clients or international syndicates for millions."
"How many mothers?" Noelle whispered, her voice trembling with horror. "How many other women went home to empty cribs?"
"At least forty over the last decade," Damian revealed grimly. "And Victor Moretti was the financial backbone of the entire operation."
Noelle covered her mouth with her hand, tears of outrage filling her eyes. "It’s horrific. It’s evil!"
"It ends now," Damian said, reaching over to wrap his large hand around hers. "We have enough forensic evidence to dismantle St. Jude's board, strip Harrison of his license, and send Moretti to federal prison for the rest of his life. But Moretti knows he’s cornered. A wounded predator is always most dangerous when his back is against the wall."
"What do you mean?"
"Moretti has put out word through the city underground," Damian warned her softly. "He realizes that if you testify in open court alongside me, his empire falls. He is going to try to eliminate the evidence before the federal indictment is unsealed."
Noelle looked down at her three children playing peacefully on the floor.
Fear tried to creep into her heart, but looking at Clara’s bright smile and the way Leo looked up at her with those hazel eyes, the fear transformed into something terrifyingly strong.
"Let him try," Noelle said, her voice dropping into an icy register that made Damian raise his eyebrows in quiet admiration. "I lost fourteen months with my children, Damian. I will personally put a bullet in anyone who tries to take them again."
May you like
Damian stared at her, a faint, rare smirk curving his dark lips. "God, you are breathtaking when you're angry."
Noelle flushed softly, looking away, but she didn't pull her hand out of his.
