Chapter 3 - The Traps Are Set
Over the next two weeks, the Moretti estate became my fortress and my training ground.
Adrian assigned me a private wing on the second floor of the mansion, giving me complete privacy while keeping a team of security personnel stationed outside my corridor round-the-clock.
A dedicated team of medical professionals visited daily to monitor my physical recovery, while Rosa helped me care for Noah, teaching me how to manage the overwhelming stress of new motherhood.
Unlike the toxic, controlling environment of the Vale household, Adrian never entered my suite without knocking first and waiting for my explicit permission.
For a man who commanded hundreds of dangerous people with a single gesture, his respect for my boundaries was remarkable.
Yet, despite his terrifying reputation, Noah seemed completely unfazed by the underworld lord.
On the tenth evening of my stay, Adrian entered my sitting room to drop off a stack of legal documents.
Noah was lying on a soft blanket in the middle of the sofa, kicking his small feet.
Adrian stood near the edge of the sofa, looking at the tiny infant as if he were a complex math problem he couldn't solve.
“You can hold him, you know,” I said with a faint smile, adjusting my cardigan.
Adrian adjusted his dark tie, looking unusually hesitant. “I am not built for handling fragile things, Lily.”
“He isn't made of glass, Mr. Moretti.”
Adrian carefully reached down, placing his large hands under Noah’s back and legs, lifting him with extreme caution.
He held the baby rigidly away from his chest, his posture so stiff it was almost comical.
“Support his head,” I instructed, walking over to assist him.
“I am supporting his head,” Adrian countered defensively.
“You are holding him like he’s an unexploded bomb.”
“He makes erratic, unpredictable movements,” Adrian said, staring down at Noah. “That makes him inherently dangerous to hold.”
Suddenly, Noah opened his eyes wide and let out a soft, contented coo, reaching his tiny fist up toward Adrian’s dark jacket.
Adrian froze completely.
He stared down into Noah’s pale, cloudy gray-blue eyes for a long moment.
“His eyes are very unusual,” Adrian remarked quietly.
I instantly stiffened, my heart sinking back into the nightmare of the hospital room.
Adrian noticed my sudden change in posture immediately.
He raised his eyes to mine, his expression softening.
“I did not say that to question his parentage, Lily,” he said gently. “I said it because they are striking. They are beautiful.”
A hot lump formed in my throat, and I had to turn my head away to prevent tears from falling. It was the first time anyone had spoken about my son’s features with genuine warmth instead of malice.
The next morning, Adrian’s lead corporate attorney, Sofia Ren, arrived at the estate.
Sofia was a razor-sharp woman in her late thirties, dressed in a tailored navy suit with hair pulled back in a severe, perfect bun. She was famous in the city’s legal circles for destroying opponent witnesses on the stand.
She laid out several court filings on the dining room table.
“We have filed emergency motions with the family court,” Sofia explained, clicking her pen. “We are requesting immediate unfreezing of your personal accounts, temporary sole custody of Noah, and a court-mandated DNA paternity test.”
“How did Ethan’s lawyer respond?” I asked, leaning forward.
Sofia smiled a cold, professional smile.
“Ethan Vale’s attorney filed a formal objection this morning. They are refusing the DNA test, claiming it is ‘emotionally invasive’ and unnecessary given the clear circumstances of your separation.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “He’s refusing the test?”
Adrian, who was sipping dark coffee at the head of the table, leaned back in his chair.
“A man who is genuinely convinced a child is not his rushes to take a test, Lily. He wants the lab report so he can destroy you in court. Refusing the test proves he is terrified of the truth.”
“Precisely,” Sofia agreed. “Ethan’s refusal is our first major legal weapon. The judge will see right through it. I have already scheduled an expedited hearing for Thursday.”
However, Ethan and Vanessa were not sitting idle.
Two days later, a massive smear campaign launched across local news outlets and high-society blogs.
Front-page headlines splashed across social media feeds:
ABANDONED HUSBAND BREAKS SILENCE: SAYS UNFAITHFUL WIFE FLED TO MAFIA BOSS’S MANSION DAYS AFTER GIVING BIRTH.
The articles included blurry, long-lens photographs of me entering the gates of the Moretti estate in Adrian’s convoy on the night of the storm.
The story was masterfully crafted. It painted Ethan as a grieving, hardworking husband who had discovered his wife’s long-term affair with a notorious crime lord, claiming I had abandoned my marital home in pursuit of wealth and power.
Reporters began swarming the iron gates of the Moretti estate, flashing cameras and shouting questions at any vehicle that entered or exited.
I watched the news broadcast from Adrian’s private study, my hands trembling with rage.
Ethan appeared on television screen sitting beside his mother, Margaret. He wore a simple, modest suit, looking appropriately heartbroken for the cameras.
“I tried everything to save my marriage,” Ethan lied smoothly to the interviewer. “I loved Lily. But when the child was born, and she refused to clarify her ongoing relationship with Mr. Moretti… I was left with no choice but to protect my family’s honor.”
Margaret leaned toward the microphone, dabbing her eyes with a lace handkerchief.
“We welcomed Lily into our humble home despite her modest background,” Margaret sobbed convincingly. “We treated her like a daughter. To be repaid with such deception and betrayal… it has broken my son’s heart.”
I gripped the edge of the mahogany desk so hard my knuckles turned white.
“They are turning the entire city against me,” I whispered.
Adrian walked over to the desk, picked up the remote control, and turned off the television screen.
“Do not waste your emotional energy watching mediocre actors rehearse lies, Lily.”
“They are convincing, Adrian!” I said, looking up at him. “People believe this garbage! The comment sections are calling me a monster!”
“Public opinion is a fickle, stupid creature,” Adrian said calmly. “It swings wildly based on whatever story is loudest at the moment. Let Ethan speak. Let him dig his grave as deep as humanly possible.”
“What should we do?”
“We say nothing,” Adrian instructed. “We save our evidence for the courtroom. When you reveal the truth after letting your enemy build a massive tower of lies, the fall kills them completely.”
On Thursday morning, the court hearing took place behind closed doors.
Judge Helen Vance, a stern, no-nonsense senior magistrate, presided over the courtroom.
Ethan sat across the aisle from us, accompanied by his high-priced lawyer, Marcus Vance (no relation to the judge). Margaret sat in the gallery behind him, wearing a dark suit and her signature pearls, glaring at me with pure hatred.
Ethan refused to make eye contact with me throughout the entire proceeding.
When Sofia presented our motion for a court-ordered DNA test, Ethan’s lawyer stood up dramatically.
“Your Honor!” Marcus Vance argued passionately. “My client has suffered immense psychological trauma. Mrs. Vale abandoned the marital home immediately after discharge and is currently residing with a known figure of organized crime! Forcing my client to undergo an invasive paternity test under these volatile conditions is an unnecessary harassment!”
Judge Vance held up a hand, silencing the attorney instantly.
She looked over her glasses at Ethan.
“Mr. Vale,” the judge said, her voice sharp as a razor. “If you truly believe this infant is not your biological child, a simple swab of your cheek will prove your claim beyond a shadow of a doubt and end this legal matter immediately. Why are you objecting?”
Ethan cleared his throat nervously, adjusting his tie.
“Your Honor… I… I merely feel that given her relationship with Mr. Moretti, the integrity of the lab results could be compromised—”
“The court uses an independent, state-certified forensic laboratory, Mr. Vale,” Judge Vance interrupted coldly. “Neither you nor Mr. Moretti will have access to the samples.”
She picked up her gavel.
“Motion granted. Mr. Vale, you will report to the court medical officer in room 204 within the next thirty minutes to provide your DNA sample. If you refuse, I will issue an immediate summary finding of paternity and levy massive financial sanctions against your estate.”
Ethan’s face went completely pale.
Behind him, Margaret gasped loudly in horror.
I looked across the aisle at my husband. For the first time since the hospital room, he finally looked at me.
May you like
I saw the raw, unfiltered terror in his eyes.
He knew his time was running out.
