Chapter 3 - A Moretti Doesn't Beg
By noon, half the hospital knew.
Sebastian Moretti wanted to foster an abandoned premature baby.
By two, hospital legal knew.
By four, apparently, Sebastian's entire family knew.
At 5:20, his older uncle arrived.
Vittorio Moretti entered the NICU waiting area wearing a charcoal suit and the expression of a man accustomed to obedience.
“Sebastian.”
Sebastian didn't turn.
He was watching bed nine through the glass.
“Go home, Vittorio.”
“You've lost your mind.”
“Probably.”
“Then I'm here to find it.”
I pretended to work nearby.
Vittorio lowered his voice.
“You cannot bring an abandoned child into your house.”
Sebastian finally looked at him.
“Why?”
“You're unmarried.”
“So?”
“You travel.”
“I'll stop.”
“You run six companies.”
“I have employees.”
“You have enemies.”
That landed harder.
Sebastian's expression darkened.
“So did my mother.”
“This isn't about Lucia.”
“It became about Lucia the moment you walked in here.”
Vittorio froze.
Sebastian stepped closer.
“Where were you when she died?”
“Careful.”
“I was twenty-two years old, sitting alone beside an incubator.”
“Your father was grieving.”
“My father was drunk.”
Vittorio glanced toward me.
“Not here.”
Sebastian laughed coldly.
“Why? Because somebody might discover the Moretti family isn't perfect?”
“Sebastian.”
“You know what Lucia taught me?”
Vittorio said nothing.
“A child doesn't care about your reputation.”
Sebastian pointed through the glass.
“He doesn't know my last name. He doesn't know what newspapers say about me. He knows whether someone comes when he cries.”
Vittorio's voice softened.
“And what happens when people use him to hurt you?”
Sebastian stopped.
That was the first argument he couldn't dismiss.
I walked over.
“He has a point.”
Sebastian looked at me.
“Whose side are you on?”
“The baby's.”
“Good answer.”
“The safest placement has to win. Not the richest. Not the most powerful.”
Vittorio looked at me.
“And you are?”
“Claire Bennett. NICU nurse.”
“You speak to everyone like this?”
“Yes.”
Sebastian almost smiled again.
Vittorio noticed.
Interesting.
Then the social worker appeared.
“Mr. Moretti?”
“Yes?”
“We need you downstairs.”
“Why?”
“There's been a complication.”
We followed him to a private office.
A woman was sitting inside.
Young.
Maybe twenty-three.
Exhausted.
She was Baby Boy Miller's mother.
Sebastian stopped.
She looked up.
“You're him.”
Sebastian remained by the door.
“I'm Sebastian.”
“They told me you’ve been holding my baby.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes filled.
“Why?”
Sebastian glanced at me.
Then he sat across from her.
“Because somebody should.”
She started crying.
“I didn't abandon him.”
Nobody spoke.
“I know that's what the chart says.”
Her name was Rebecca Miller.
She wiped her face.
“I couldn't take him home.”
“Why?”
“My boyfriend disappeared when he found out the baby might have medical problems. I lost my apartment. I work at a grocery store.”
Her voice cracked.
“I slept in my car the week before he was born.”
Sebastian's expression softened.
Rebecca continued.
“I thought surrendering him meant he'd get some rich family with a house and two parents.”
She looked through the window toward the NICU.
“I thought leaving was the least selfish thing I could do.”
Sebastian leaned forward.
“Do you want him?”
Rebecca looked at him as though the question hurt.
“More than anything.”
“Then why surrender?”
“I just told you.”
“No.”
His voice was calm.
“You told me why you're scared.”
She stared at him.
“That isn't the same thing.”
Rebecca laughed bitterly.
“Easy for a billionaire to say.”
Sebastian nodded.
“Yes.”
That surprised everyone.
“It is easy for me.”
He leaned back.
“So tell me what would make it possible.”
“What?”
“Apartment?”
Rebecca blinked.
“Childcare?”
“Mr. Moretti—”
“Transportation? Medical expenses?”
She stood.
“I don't want your charity.”
“Good.”
Sebastian stood too.
“Because I'm not offering charity.”
“What are you offering?”
“A choice.”
Rebecca stared at him.
“You shouldn't lose your son because you're poor.”
The room went silent.
The social worker finally spoke.
“Financial assistance alone doesn't resolve everything.”
“Then tell me what does.”
Sebastian turned toward him.
“Make a list.”
Rebecca whispered, “Why are you doing this?”
Sebastian touched the bracelet beneath his sleeve.
“Because seventeen years ago, I learned what happens when adults fail a baby.”
May you like
Then he looked at Rebecca.
“And because I think your son would rather have his mother than me.”
