Chapter 3 - The Embryo That Had My Name
The child was not in the main mansion.
He was in the east guesthouse.
A building I had cleaned only twice because Vanessa told staff it contained private medical equipment.
Marco opened the door.
Inside was a nursery.
Not temporary.
Lived in.
Tiny clothes filled drawers.
Formula sat beside a sterilizer.
A monitor glowed near the crib.
A woman in gray scrubs stood when we entered.
She looked terrified.
“What is happening?”
Vanessa answered first.
“Take Luca upstairs.”
I stopped breathing.
Luca.
Alessandro moved between her and the crib.
“No one moves him.”
The nurse looked at him.
“Mr. Moretti?”
“You know who I am.”
“Yes.”
“Who told you I was the child’s father?”
“Ms. Cole.”
He looked toward Vanessa.
She was unraveling.
The nurse lifted a sleeping toddler from the crib.
He was about sixteen months old.
Dark curls.
Brown eyes.
A small mark beneath his left ear.
Exactly where Emma’s was.
I covered my mouth.
The child woke.
He stared at all of us.
Then his eyes landed on Emma.
She peeked around my skirt.
Luca smiled.
Not because he knew her.
Because children sometimes recognize another child before they understand a room full of frightened adults.
Emma smiled back.
“Baby.”
I could not move.
The nurse handed Alessandro a folder.
“I was told his mother had surrendered parental rights.”
“Which mother?” he asked.
“Sofia Reyes.”
I found my voice.
“I did not.”
The nurse looked at me.
Her face changed.
“You’re Sofia?”
“Yes.”
She stepped backward.
Vanessa said sharply, “Do not speak.”
The nurse ignored her.
“My name is Rachel Donovan. I was hired through Harrison’s private neonatal program. I thought the paperwork was legal.”
She had cared for Luca since birth.
The gestational carrier was a woman named Tara Bishop.
Tara believed she was carrying a donated embryo for Vanessa and Alessandro.
She was paid legally through a surrogacy agency.
She never knew the embryo belonged to me and Mateo.
“How did Alessandro become the intended father?” I asked.
Rachel looked toward Vanessa.
“I never saw him sign anything. There was a digital authorization.”
Alessandro’s security team began pulling records.
Within hours, they discovered the digital signature came from a device inside his corporate office.
Vanessa had access.
She had served as legal director for the Moretti Foundation before becoming romantically involved with him.
She had copied his biometric credentials during a hospital visit after he suffered a concussion two years earlier.
The same month Luca’s embryo was transferred.
But why use my embryo?
Vanessa could have chosen any donor.
She could have hired a surrogate honestly.
She could even have lied about a donor egg without involving me.
The answer appeared in an old Harrison file.
Four years earlier, the clinic director, Dr. Elaine Harrison, performed genetic screening on my frozen embryos.
One carried a rare immune marker associated with extraordinary compatibility for certain bone-marrow disorders.
The marker came from Mateo.
A research consortium had quietly paid fertility clinics for access to genetically unusual embryos.
Without patient consent.
My embryos became valuable.
One disappeared into a private research registry.
Then Vanessa found it.
Alessandro’s father, Lorenzo Moretti, had died from a hereditary blood disorder.
Alessandro carried the gene.
He did not have the disease, but his future biological child could.
Vanessa wanted an heir without risking the Moretti disorder.
She searched for embryos with compatible immune markers.
Mine became ideal.
The intended plan was worse than inheritance fraud.
Vanessa wanted a child genetically unrelated to Alessandro but medically selected to create the illusion of a healthy Moretti heir.
A child she could control completely.
“But why pretend to be pregnant?” I asked.
Rachel looked down.
Vanessa answered.
“Because Alessandro would never accept surrogacy without knowing the mother.”
“You mean the genetic mother.”
“He believes blood matters.”
Alessandro’s head turned.
“Do not tell her what I believe.”
Vanessa flinched.
He looked at me.
“I would never have agreed to steal someone’s child.”
The phrase hit me.
Someone’s child.
Luca was genetically mine and Mateo’s.
But Rachel had raised him.
Tara carried him.
Alessandro had unknowingly financed his care.
Vanessa had designed his existence as a tool.
No simple title could solve that.
Then Marco entered holding an emergency court notice.
Vanessa had filed a guardianship petition two weeks earlier.
If Alessandro acknowledged the pregnancy publicly and then “lost” the baby in a staged premature delivery, Vanessa planned to introduce Luca months later as a privately protected survivor.
His birth date would be altered.
Medical records would be changed.
The fake pregnancy was part of laundering a child’s identity.
Emma had exposed the scheme six weeks before the final stage.
Alessandro looked at Luca.
“What was supposed to happen to the real birth record?”
Rachel whispered:
“Destroyed.”
Vanessa moved toward the door.
Marco blocked her.
“You cannot hold me here.”
Alessandro answered:
“I don’t need to.”
May you like
Police were already arriving.
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