Chapter 2 - The Golden Cage
By noon the following day, Emma found herself unable to leave St. Catherine’s Hospital.
Every time she prepared to discharge herself and return to her empty apartment in Astoria, a fresh request came from the VIP suite. Anthony and Lucia refused all other nourishment. The moment donor milk or a bottle touched their lips, their heart rates spiked and they spit up violently. Only Emma’s milk satisfied them.
Sitting on her hospital bed, Emma packed her small bag. Her heart was torn. Feeding the twins brought her an extraordinary sense of peace, a feeling that her daughter Grace's short life had left behind a legacy of survival for these motherless infants. Yet, being around the children reminded her acutely of her own loss.
The door to her room opened, and Gabriel Moretti walked in.
He was dressed in a sharp, dark charcoal suit that screamed power and wealth. His dark hair was brushed back, but his hazel eyes remained intense, searching her face as he closed the door behind him.
"Miss Brooks," Gabriel said. "My guards informed me you were preparing to leave."
"I have a life to return to, Mr. Moretti," Emma said quietly, zipping her duffel bag. "My shop, Graceful Things, has been closed for a month. My rent is due, and I need to start rebuilding my life."
Gabriel walked to the window, looking out over the grey Manhattan skyline before turning back to her.
"Your shop in Astoria earns roughly sixty thousand dollars a year," Gabriel said evenly. "You owe twelve thousand dollars in medical bills from your delivery. Your landlord has already listed your apartment for lease because you missed this month's payment."
Emma stiffened, anger flaring in her chest. "Have you been investigating me?"
"I investigate everyone who comes near my children," Gabriel replied without apology. "It is how I keep my family alive. But I am not here to invade your privacy, Miss Brooks. I am here to make you a proposition."
He pulled a thick document from his leather briefcase and laid it on her bed.
"Come with me to my estate in Long Island," Gabriel stated. "You will have your own wing in the manor, a private nurse staff to assist you, full security, and complete freedom. I will pay off your medical debts, buy the building your craft shop is located in so you never pay rent again, and place two million dollars in a trust fund for you. In exchange, you stay with Anthony and Lucia for six months, until they are weaned onto solid food."
Emma stared at the document, then looked up at Gabriel. "You want to buy me as a wet nurse?"
"I want to keep my children alive!" Gabriel snapped, his stoic facade cracking for a fraction of a second, revealing the raw panic of a grieving father. He stepped closer, his voice softening into a desperate plea. "I lost my wife three weeks ago, Miss Brooks. If I lose these babies, there will be nothing left of me. I am not asking you to be a servant. I am asking you to save my family."
Emma looked at the paper, then thought of the two fragile infants sleeping in the NICU. She thought of her cold, empty apartment in Astoria, where Grace’s empty crib was still waiting in the dark. Staying in New York alone would destroy her soul. Perhaps, in helping these motherless twins survive, she could find a way to heal her own broken heart.
"Three rules, Mr. Moretti," Emma said firmly, looking directly into his piercing eyes.
Gabriel inclined his head. "Name them."
"First, I am not your employee; I am your children’s caregiver. You will treat me with respect. Second, I want a small studio space set up at the estate so I can continue my woodworking and craft repairs when the babies are sleeping. Third, my sister Clare must be allowed to visit whenever she wishes."
A ghost of a smile touched Gabriel’s lips. "Agreed."
Two hours later, a fleet of three black armored Escalades pulled up to the private exit of St. Catherine’s. Emma sat in the back of the center vehicle, holding the twin car seats securely. Gabriel sat opposite her, his satellite phone buzzing constantly as he managed his vast corporate empire.
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As the motorcade drove onto the Queensboro Bridge, Emma looked out the window. She didn't notice the silver sedan following three cars back, nor did she see the cold eyes of Julian Vance watching her from the front passenger seat of the trailing vehicle.
"She's moving into the estate," Julian whispered into his phone to an untraceable contact. "This complicates everything. If she stays close to Gabriel, she might notice the subtle discrepancies in Isabella's lingering medical files. Accelerate the plan. We need to create a rift between them before the annual Moretti Holdings Gala."
