Chapter 7 - The Trap is Set
The grand dining hall was set for sixteen guests. The air was thick with tension as board members of Moretti Holdings, legal representatives, and family members took their seats beneath the sparkling crystal chandeliers.
Julianna sat near the middle of the table, looking radiant in a dark blue velvet dress. She sipped white wine, chatting casually with Marcus about market shares, completely confident in her position.
At the head of the table sat Gabriel.
And directly to his right—sitting in the chair normally reserved for the lady of the house—was me.
I wore a tailored dark emerald dress Gabriel had picked out for me, my hair styled elegantly. I carried myself with absolute composure, keeping my head high despite the whispered insults floating around the table from distant cousins.
Julianna set her wineglass down, her eyes locking onto me with cold amusement.
“Gabriel, dear,” Julianna spoke up, her voice easily cutting through the quiet chatter. “Isn't it a bit unusual to have the wet nurse seated at a formal estate trust meeting? Surely she would be more comfortable upstairs supervising the help?”
Gabriel didn't look up from his leather folder. “Miss Vance is not help, Julianna. She is the guardian of my children’s lives. She sits where I tell her to sit.”
Marcus cleared his throat nervously. “Gabriel, the lawyers are ready to read the custody and asset clauses for Isabella’s estate.”
“Before we read the trust,” Gabriel said, closing his folder with a heavy thud, “there is a small administrative matter we must clear up regarding the children’s health.”
Julianna’s smile flickered. “Their health? I thought the girl was feeding them properly now?”
“She is,” Gabriel replied smoothly. He signaled to Vance, who stood near the doors.
Vance stepped forward, carrying a large silver serving tray covered by a black velvet cloth. He placed it directly in the center of the dining table, right between Julianna and Marcus.
The room went dead silent.
“What is this, Gabriel?” Marcus asked, glancing around nervously.
“Over the past three weeks, my children nearly died of organ failure,” Gabriel said, his voice dropping into a terrifying register. “The doctors believed it was premature frailty. But yesterday, Miss Vance discovered something very interesting in the nursery.”
Gabriel reached out and whipped the black velvet cloth off the tray.
Underneath lay two sealed plastic specimen bags. One contained the crystal glass Julianna had drank from in the nursery; the second contained the sterile baby bottle nipple bearing the trace oil. Beside them lay a printed high-court forensic report stamped by the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
Julianna’s face turned gray. The color drained from her lips so fast she looked like a corpse.
“What... what is this nonsense?” Julianna stammered, trying to laugh. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”
“That is Aconite extract, Julianna,” I spoke up, my voice ringing clear and steady across the silent room. “The same toxin found in the hospital donor milk. Your fingerprints are on the glass, and your DNA was recovered from the rim.”
Julianna slammed her hands on the table, standing up. “You liar! You insolent little trash girl! Gabriel, are you seriously taking the word of a hired servant over your own family? She planted that! She’s trying to extort you!”
“I didn't take her word, Julianna,” Gabriel said calmly, pulling a sleek black remote control from his pocket. “I took the video footage.”
He clicked the button.
The giant art display on the dining wall flickered to life, displaying high-definition night-vision footage from the concealed camera inside the nursery wall.
On the screen, clear as day, was Julianna entering the nursery while I was in the bathroom, pulling a small glass eye-dropper from her purse, and squeezing three clear drops of oil directly onto the sterile baby bottle nipples before setting her own glass down.
The dining room erupted into shocked gasps. Marcus scrambled out of his chair, backing away from Julianna in sheer horror.
“Julianna... my God,” Marcus whispered, horrified. “You tried to kill the babies?”
Julianna stared at the screen, her composure shattering into desperate, manic rage. She looked at Gabriel, then at me, her eyes wild with hatred.
“They shouldn't exist!” Julianna screamed, her voice tearing through the room. “Isabella was supposed to leave those shares to ME! I built that logistics line with father! Not those little parasites!”
Before she could move, the heavy dining room doors burst open. Four federal agents, flanked by state police officers, marched into the room.
“Julianna Moretti,” the lead agent announced, pulling out handcuffs. “You are under arrest for attempted murder, corporate fraud, and poisoning.”
As the agents slammed Julianna against the mahogany table and slapped the steel cuffs around her wrists, she kicked and screamed, her designer hair falling into her face.
“You ruined everything!” she shrieked, glaring at me as she was dragged past my chair. “You were supposed to be nobody! You were just a dead baby’s mother!”
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I stood up, holding my ground, and looked her straight in the eye.
“I am a mother,” I said softly, every word laced with quiet iron. “And a mother protects her children.”
