“That’s impossible,” Ethan spat, stepping forward, though Adrian’s imposing presence kept him from reaching for the papers. “Dr. Vance said she was barren. He told us both, right in his office, that her eggs were non-viable, that her system was hostile to implantation. We have the files. They were submitted to the court!”
“Yes,” Adrian agreed smoothly, a thin, humorless smile touching the corner of his mouth. “The files submitted to the court did state that. But medical records have an inconvenient habit of leaving digital footprints, Mr. Sterling. Especially when they pass through hospital databases that require dual-authentication digital signatures.”
Adrian turned the second page around, pointing a clean, manicured finger at a highlighted block of text near the bottom of the page.
“You see, Dr. Vance was not just your family physician. He was a major investor in Sterling Holdings—the very company you and your father built, Ethan. A company that, three years ago, was facing a catastrophic liquidity crisis and needed immediate capital injection from outside private equity firms.”
Ethan took a sharp step backward, his back hitting the cold wall of the maternity wing. The expensive watch on his wrist caught the light, gleaming like a shackle.
“What are you talking about?” Ethan growled, though his voice lacked conviction now. “My company’s financials have nothing to do with Claire’s medical file.”
“They have everything to do with it when the primary investor offering to save Sterling Holdings was a pharmaceutical magnate with very specific, highly unethical demands,” Adrian said, his voice dropping to a low, resonant register that commanded absolute attention. “A magnate whose daughter needed a wealthy, established husband to secure her social standing and financial future after a series of public scandals. A daughter named Madison Vance.”
The name hung in the air like a detonation.
Madison let out a sharp gasp, her knees buckling slightly as the full weight of what was being uncovered hit her. The baby bottle on the floor rolled a few inches further, leaving a smeared white trail across the milk.