Chapter 3 - The Secret Sebastian Had Hidden Since the Day Oliver Was BornI drove to the mansion in a storm.
I didn't care about security.
I didn't care about Gabriel.
I didn't care about the guards.
I walked straight into Sebastian's study.
“Tell me everything.”
He stood beside the window.
Not in his wheelchair.
Holding a cane.
He had improved more in two weeks than his doctors believed possible.
But he didn't smile.
“Sit.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“Did you know my son?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
He turned.
“When Oliver was born, there was a complication.”
“I know.”
“He stopped breathing.”
My face went numb.
“Yes.”
“The hospital transferred him to a specialist unit.”
“Yes.”
“That unit received research funding from my company.”
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your son was part of a study.”
I laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“You're telling me my child was a test subject?”
“Not intentionally.”
“That's not an answer.”
Sebastian took a breath.
“Your son was treated with an experimental immune suppressant.”
I remembered.
The medication.
The strange specialist.
The forms I had signed because Oliver was dying.
The explanation that they were simply trying an aggressive treatment.
“What did it do?”
“We don't know.”
“Sebastian.”
“We know it altered his immune response.”
My knees weakened.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“For eight years?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't know whether it was the cause.”
“And now?”
“Now I think someone used the program to experiment on children.”
Silence swallowed the room.
“You think?”
“We found records.”
“Where?”
“Destroyed.”
“Convenient.”
His jaw tightened.
“Claire.”
“You knew my son might have been harmed and you said nothing.”
“I was trying to protect him.”
“From what?”
“From the people who ran the program.”
“Who?”
He looked at me.
“Someone inside my family.”
I stared.
Sebastian's father had built the Lombardi empire.
His uncle had controlled the medical division.
His cousin owned several pharmaceutical companies.
But there was one name I remembered from the old paperwork.
Dr. Victor Lombardi.
Sebastian's younger half-brother.
“Victor?”
Sebastian didn't answer.
I already knew.
He nodded.
“Victor disappeared four years ago.”
“Why?”
“I thought he was dead.”
“Was he?”
“I don't know.”
I stepped closer.
“What happened to the children?”
His face darkened.
“We found four cases.”
“Four?”
“Four confirmed.”
“And Oliver?”
“Potentially the fifth.”
My voice broke.
I hated myself for it.
“He was eight.”
“I know.”
“You don't understand.”
“I do.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You can lose money.”
“You can lose power.”
“You can lose businesses.”
“But mothers lose sleep.”
“Mothers sit beside hospital beds.”
“Mothers count breaths.”
“Mothers don't forgive people for experimenting on their children.”
His eyes stayed on mine.
“I know.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Sebastian said quietly:
“I wasn't the one who hurt him.”
I looked away.
“But I should have found out sooner.”
Something in his voice stopped me.
Guilt.
Real guilt.
Not the performance of a powerful man.
The kind that kept someone awake.
I asked:
“Why did you hire me?”
He answered immediately.
“Because I saw you once before.”
“When?”
“At the hospital.”
“What hospital?”
“Mercy Saint.”
My breath caught.
Oliver's hospital.
“I saw you sitting beside him.”
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because my father had died there.”
I frowned.
“Your father died in the bombing.”
“He did.”
“Years before Oliver was born.”
“Yes.”
“Then why were you at Mercy Saint when Oliver was born?”
Sebastian went silent.
Then:
“Because that was the hospital where the first test subject died.”
I stared.
The room seemed to tilt.
“Who?”
“A six-year-old boy.”
“And you knew?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“He was my responsibility.”
“Why?”
“Because I funded the research.”
I stepped back.
Sebastian closed his eyes.
“I thought it was a spinal nerve study.”
“But it became something else.”
“Yes.”
“Who changed it?”
“Victor.”
I turned toward the door.
“I’m done.”
“Claire.”
“I can't work for you.”
“I know.”
“You knew there was a chance your family hurt my son.”
“Yes.”
“And you still brought me here.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His expression cracked.
“Because I wanted to give you the truth before someone else used it against you.”
Before I could answer, a gunshot sounded downstairs.
Then another.
Security alarms erupted.
Gabriel burst into the room.
“Down!”
He pulled Sebastian behind the desk.
I dropped.
Three shots hit the wall.
Gabriel drew his gun.
“Someone breached the east entrance.”
Sebastian looked at me.
“You need to leave.”
“I need my son.”
Gabriel spoke.
“He's at school.”
A second alarm sounded.
Gabriel froze.
Then looked at his phone.
His face changed.
“What?”
He looked at Sebastian.
“Oliver isn't at school.”
My blood turned to ice.
“Where is he?”
Gabriel's voice was low.
“Someone picked him up.”
I couldn't breathe.
Sebastian stood.
He took one step.
Then another.
His legs shook.
He didn't care.
“Find my car.”
“Sir—”
“Now.”
He grabbed a cane.
“I am bringing her son home.”
I stared at him.
“You can barely walk.”
He looked at me.
May you like
“I'll crawl.”
And for the first time, I believed him.
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