Chapter 4 - THE BILLIONAIRE'S CONSPIRACYAn hour later, the interior of Precinct 4 was warm, smelling of cheap coffee, damp floor mats, and radiator steam.
Officer Chen had brought Lena, the twins, and little Hope into a small, private interview room in the back of the station, locking the door behind them.
On the table sat three paper cups of hot chocolate for the girls, a heated blanket provided by the paramedic unit, and a stack of official police evidence bags.
Inside one of the bags sat the tiny plastic hospital band: V-A-N... 11-02-A... STERLING...
Sitting across from Lena was not just Officer Chen, but Detective Frank Vance (no relation to the thug)—a forty-year veteran with a grey mustache and eyes that had seen every dark secret Cleveland had to offer.
“Let me get this completely straight, Lena,” Detective Vance said, leaning over his recording device. “Your daughters found this child at six this morning behind McKinley’s Market. He was wrapped in a wet blanket under cardboard boxes.”
“Yes,” Lena said firmly, holding the baby against her shoulder while he nursed on a fresh bottle of formula provided by the station nurse. “And those men who broke down my door... they weren't looking for a stolen item. They were looking for him.”
Detective Vance picked up the evidence bag containing the plastic band, holding it up to the fluorescent light.
“I ran the serial code through the state health database ten minutes ago,” Detective Vance said, his voice dropping into a low, heavy register. “This band belongs to an infant born yesterday morning at 4:12 AM at the private Sterling Medical Center in Gates Mills. The mother listed on the chart is a surrogate named Maria Gomez.”
“And where is the surrogate now?” Officer Chen asked, leaning against the door.
“She boarded a private jet to Cancun at seven this morning,” the detective replied. “Paid two hundred thousand dollars in cash by a holding company owned by Marcus Sterling—Julian Sterling’s younger brother.”
Lily and June sat quietly on the bench near the wall, sipping their hot chocolate. Lily held June’s hand tightly, her eyes fixed on Detective Vance.
“Why would rich people leave a baby in an alley?” Lily asked softly, her small voice cutting through the thick legal jargon in the room. “If they have so much money... why didn't they buy him a crib?”
Detective Vance looked at the twelve-year-old girl, a sad, weary smile touching his lips.
“Because, sweetheart,” the detective explained gently, “sometimes people with a lot of money care more about paper than they do about human beings.”
He turned back to Lena, pulling out a thick manila folder labeled STERLING ESTATE LITIGATION.
“Julian Sterling’s late father left a unique will,” Detective Vance explained. “To keep the corporate empire from being split up, the primary estate—including sixty percent of the shipping shares—goes to the first male heir born to the family before December thirty-first of this year. If Julian doesn't have a legitimate son by then, the entire voting control transfers to his ex-wife’s trust.”
Lena’s eyes widened as the horrific puzzle pieces finally clicked together.
“Julian bought a surrogate baby to win the company,” Lena whispered, her stomach churning with disgust.
“Exactly,” Detective Vance nodded. “But Marcus—his younger brother—stands to inherit thirty percent of the company if Julian fails to produce that heir. So Marcus paid off Vance and his crew to intercept the baby during the transfer from the clinic, dump him where he’d freeze to death before sunrise, and make it look like a tragic kidnapping gone wrong.”
The room went dead silent.
June pressed her face against her mother’s arm. “They wanted the baby to freeze?”
“Yes, baby,” Lena said softly, tears of rage burning in her eyes as she looked down at the sleeping newborn in her arms. “They wanted him gone so they could keep their tall towers and their big cars.”
Before Detective Vance could speak again, the door to the interview room was thrown open.
A man in an immaculate charcoal-grey suit walked into the room, flanked by two city attorneys and the Chief of Police himself.
It was Julian Sterling.
He looked around the small, dingy room with supreme arrogance, his eyes brushing past Detective Vance, past Officer Chen, and landing directly on Lena Walker and the child in her lap.
“Chief,” Julian said smoothly, his voice polished as marble. “Thank you for securing my son so quickly. My legal team is here to sign the custody release forms immediately.”
He stepped forward, extending his gloved hand toward the baby. “Hand him over, please. My private medical team is waiting outside.”
Lena didn't move an inch. She pulled the baby closer to her chest, her eyes blazing with pure hatred.
“No,” Lena said.
May you like
Julian froze, his hand hanging in the air, his slick smile faltering for a fraction of a second. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said no,” Lena repeated, standing up slowly, holding little Hope high against her shoulder. “You don't get to touch this child.”
