Chapter 2: The Shadows of the Adoption
The silence that followed Leo’s declaration was absolute. The wealthiest families of New York stood completely still, staring at the emotional scene on the floor. A waitress in a catering uniform was holding the heir to the Sterling billionaire empire, and the boy was claiming she knew his private, secret lullaby.
Charles Sterling was a man who hated being kept in the dark. He valued transparency above all else, a trait that had made him one of the most successful tech CEOs in the United States. He looked at Clara, then looked down at his sobbing son.
"Leo," Charles said, his voice firm but grandfatherly gentle as he walked over to them. "What do you mean? What lullaby?"
Before Leo could answer, Victoria rushed down from the elevated stage, her high heels clicking aggressively. She grabbed Leo's arm, trying to tear him away from Clara's embrace. "Charles, don't listen to this nonsense! The child is confused! This waitress is obviously unhinged, she’s trying to manipulate our son for money! Security! Get this woman out of here immediately!"
Two burly security guards in dark suits moved forward, but Charles raised a single hand, stopping them instantly. His eyes were locked on Victoria’s shaking hands. "I asked the boy a question, Victoria. Let him speak."
Leo hid his face in Clara’s neck, refusing to let go. "The song, Daddy... the one about the silver moon and the willow tree. The one Mommy told me she invented just for me. But this lady... she was humming it when she brought the food. It's the same voice from my dreams."
Clara’s heart hammered violently against her ribs. She looked up at Charles, her eyes streaming with tears. "The silver moon and the willow tree... that's my song. I wrote it when I was pregnant six years ago in a charity hospital in Boston. They told me my baby died during delivery. They told me he was gone!"
The ballroom erupted into a chaotic murmur of shocked gasps. Gossip spread like wildfire among the tables.
Victoria's face turned from pale to an angry, venomous red. "You are a liar! A delusional, lower-class liar looking for a lawsuit! Charles, she is dangerous! Look at her, she’s a common criminal trying to extort us!"
Charles didn't look at Clara. Instead, he looked at his wife’s hysterical reaction. As a billionaire, he was used to people trying to scam him, but he also possessed an incredible ability to read human guilt. Victoria wasn't acting like a protective mother; she was acting like a caught criminal.
"Clara, is it?" Charles asked calmly, kneeling down to be at eye level with the waitress and his son. "If what you are saying is true, you are making a very serious allegation against the agency we used."
"The St. Jude Adoption Agency," Clara said, her voice shaking but filled with a sudden, desperate courage. "I’ve been looking for records for six years. Every time I get close, the files disappear. I took this catering job tonight because I heard the wealthy board members of that agency would be here."
Victoria tried to turn around and walk away, but Charles’s voice stopped her like a physical barrier. "Victoria. You handled the adoption process entirely by yourself six years ago. You told me the birth mother was an anonymous donor who passed away. Why are you sweating?"
"I am not sweating! I am insulted!" Victoria snapped, her aristocratic composure completely shattering in front of the very people she had spent her life trying to impress.
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"We are leaving. Now," Victoria ordered, reaching for Leo again. But Charles stepped between his wife and the child, his towering frame casting a dark shadow over her.
"No one is leaving," Charles said coldly. "We are going to the private lounge upstairs. And we are going to find out exactly whose blood runs through this boy's veins."
