Chapter 6 - The Child They Wanted Born Early
Emilia moved Grace into an operating suite.
The contractions intensified too quickly.
Her medical line showed signs that someone had injected a small amount of oxytocin through the access port.
The dosage was not enough to cause immediate catastrophe.
It was enough to accelerate labor.
Security footage showed no person entering the room during the blackout.
A service panel behind the wall had been opened from the maintenance corridor.
The same technician credential under Anthony Rossi’s name accessed the corridor.
The person using my father’s identity had returned.
Emilia prepared for emergency delivery.
Grace was exhausted, frightened, and still recovering from sedation.
She refused general anesthesia unless her life required it.
“I need to hear my baby,” she said.
“You will,” Emilia promised.
I remained beside her head while the medical team worked.
Grace stared at me through tears.
“If anything happens, do not let Isabella raise him.”
“She will never touch him.”
“Do not let the family turn him into you.”
The words hurt because I understood.
“I will not.”
“You grew up believing fear meant respect.”
“Yes.”
“You cannot teach him that.”
“I will not.”
Grace searched my face.
“Promise something you can keep.”
I lowered my forehead against hers.
“I promise I will not decide his future without listening to the people my choices affect.”
That was smaller than promising safety forever.
It was real.
Our son was born shortly after midnight.
For several seconds, he made no sound.
Then a thin cry rose above the machines.
Grace began sobbing.
I could not speak.
Emilia held him where Grace could see before the neonatal team moved him beneath warm lights.
He was small but breathing.
We named him Gabriel Matteo Rossi.
Gabriel had been Grace’s father’s name.
My family expected Anthony or Salvatore.
Our son received a name chosen inside the room where he was born, not inside a council chamber.
Federal agents secured the birth registration.
No private family attorney.
No Rossi hospital administrator.
No trust representative.
Grace signed as mother.
I signed as father.
The document went directly into the protected state system.
Within twenty minutes, someone attempted to file another birth record.
Child: Anthony Matteo Rossi.
Mother: Grace Bell.
Father: Matteo Rossi.
Guardian pending maternal incapacity: Isabella Rossi.
The false filing came through a private registration service owned by Vincent Caruso.
They had prepared it before delivery.
The service had been waiting only for confirmation that a boy was born.
Mara blocked the filing.
The attempt proved the council still received information from inside the hospital.
Only a few people knew the child’s sex.
Emilia.
The neonatal staff.
Grace.
Me.
Mara.
Luca.
Hospital administration.
The ultrasound records had shown a boy months earlier, so the council could have prepared the documents in advance.
What they could not know was the exact birth time.
The false filing used it correctly.
Someone on the floor reported it within minutes.
Mara searched staff communications.
A neonatal nurse named Patricia Sloan had sent a text to an unregistered number.
Baby delivered. Male. Both alive.
Patricia was arrested before leaving the unit.
She cried immediately.
Dominic had threatened her brother, who owed money to a Rossi bookmaker.
She had provided updates for two weeks.
She denied touching Grace’s medication.
Her access badge had not entered the service corridor.
The person using Anthony’s identity remained unidentified.
Patricia’s phone contained instructions.
If mother survives, initiate family challenge.
If child survives, secure blood sample.
A blood sample could verify paternity.
Or manipulate it.
The neonatal team had already collected routine samples.
Mara placed them under seal.
A second sample tube was found inside Patricia’s pocket.
It carried Gabriel’s name but contained blood drawn before his birth.
The blood type did not match Grace or me.
Someone planned to substitute it.
A false paternity result could remove my legal authority, discredit Grace, or redirect succession rights to another branch.
“Whose blood is it?” I asked.
The laboratory began analysis.
The DNA matched a close Rossi relative.
Male.
Likely my brother, father, or son.
I had no brother.
My father was dead.
My son had just been born and the sample predated him.
The most likely source was Anthony Rossi.
A preserved blood sample from my father existed somewhere.
Or the man using his identity was genetically close enough to be him.
Mara looked at me carefully.
“Your father’s death was confirmed through dental records, not DNA.”
“I saw the body.”
“You saw a covered body and his watch.”
I remembered the funeral.
My mother refused to let me view the remains fully.
She said the explosion left nothing a son should remember.
Dental records came from Dr. Ferri’s office.
The same doctor who sedated Grace and created false medical files.
If Ferri falsified the dental comparison, my father’s death could have been staged.
Or someone else had been buried beneath his name.
Before we could continue, Luca called from the estate.
Federal agents had opened a sealed chamber beneath the family chapel.
Inside were photographs of Anthony taken after his official death.
May you like
The most recent was six months old.
Continue to the next part: Evidence beneath the chapel suggests Matteo’s father may have remained alive for years after the family buried him.
