Chapter 15

Sebastian’s POV 

The NICU door opened, and the nurse rolled Zara out immediately.

Lily walked beside her, whispering, “You will be fine, Zara… just take it easy,” but the words seemed to bounce back.

She wouldn’t look up. Her hands were shaking and her face was wet.

She looked like someone who had given everything and received nothing in return.

I followed behind, pretending not to notice.

Yet my eyes didn’t leave her.

The Garvins remained inside the NICU behind the glass, clinging to their newborns. 

Zara never turned towards them. She just kept one arm across her abdomen.

They wheeled her down to her ward.  

Tears kept sliding  down and she kept wiping them in quick, embarrassed motions.

She tried so hard to hold herself together.

She finally sank onto the mattress, eyes closed. 

I stepped back before she opened her eyes and saw me.

A part of me wanted to stay, to ensure she was okay, to make her feel safe after all she had endured.

But I could still feel the tension between us. 

I stepped out of the ward without knowing what I was feeling.

That was the part that unsettled me most.

I had walked into the hospital as a CEO with control yet I walked out with something loose inside of me. 

The image of her lying weak on that bed stayed with me. 

Her pale face, her trembling voice asking for the babies. 

The way her hand went instinctively to her stomach like the babies were still there.

I wasn’t supposed to feel anything.

She was just an employee. A surrogate. 

A situation I should never have been involved in.

Yet the feeling followed me out of the ward, down the corridor, through the hospital doors.

“Office or home, sir?”

Raymond's ’s voice snapped me out of it.

I stopped beside the car.

The city lights reflected faintly off the black body of the vehicle. 

Everything looked the same but nothing felt the same.

For a moment, I didn’t answer.

I stood confused.

The office meant work and meetings. Pretending my mind was still mine.

Home meant silence.

I looked at my driver for a second. “Home.” I said.

The door closed, shutting out the noise but not my thoughts.

The drive home was  longer than usual. 

Traffic lights. Turns. Familiar streets that suddenly felt foreign. 

My phone buzzed several times with emails, missed calls, board reminders. I didn’t check any of them.

All I could see was Zara’s face when she asked to see the babies.

All I could hear was her voice breaking when she said their names.

By the time we pulled into the driveway, I was exhausted. 

The house lights were on.

Seline was stretched on the couch, a glass in one hand, her phone in the other. Her legs were crossed casually, like she had nothing weighing on her at all.

She glanced up the moment I entered.

“You’re home early,” she said lightly, “I thought you had another late night.”

I didn’t respond.

I walked straight past her, heading for the stairs.

“Sebastian,” she called after me. “Did something happen at work?”

I kept moving.

“Sebastian.”

Still nothing.

By the time I reached the bedroom,  I shut the door and leaned against it for a second, pressing my fingers into my eyes.

I needed rest.

That’s what I told myself as I changed and lay down.

But rest didn’t come.

I stared at the room that was too quiet, my mind too loud.

I tried not to think about her.

It failed.

Zara crept in anyway.  

The way she held on even when everything had been taken from her. 

The way she didn’t beg, she just asked quietly, like she already knew the answer might be no.

I rolled onto my side, then onto my back.

I thought about the company. The postponed board meeting. The questions piling up. And the consequences of my absence.

Normally, those thoughts would’ve snapped me back into focus.

Tonight, they didn’t.

None of it felt important.

That realization unsettled me more than anything else.

I checked the time.

It was late.

Too late to be this restless.

Just then the phone vibrated against the nightstand.

Once.

I glanced at the screen.

Dr. Rowan.

I sat up immediately. “Yes.”

“Mr. Sebastian,” he said. “I apologize for calling so late.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “Go ahead.”

There was a pause.

“We completed the internal review you requested,” he said. “Security, access logs, and CCTV footage covering the cryostorage wing.”

“And?”

“There was a breach,” he said plainly. “Not a system failure. Human involvement.”

I swung my legs off the bed, standing.

“How many people had access?” I asked.

“Very few,” he replied. “This is a private fertility center, not a general hospital. Access is restricted and tracked. That made the review… very clear.”

I walked slowly across the room.

“So it was deliberate.”

“Yes,” he said. 

I stopped near the window.

“Who?” I asked.

“We’ve identified a staff nurse who entered the storage room multiple times outside assigned hours,” he said. 

“The footage aligns with unregistered access-card use.”

“And motive?” I asked.

“Financial,” he said carefully. 

“You’re saying the nurse was paid?”

“Yes.”

“And the samples?” I asked.

“They were destroyed,” he said. “All of them.”

The words settled heavily.

I didn’t answer immediately.

Outside, a siren wailed briefly before fading into the distance.

“If I come in now?” I asked.

“It’s late,” he said. “Our legal team and compliance officers will be available in the morning. Everything will be documented.”

I checked the time again. Past midnight.

“Tomorrow,” I said. 

“We’ll be ready,” he replied. “Mr. Sebastian… I’m sorry.”

The call ended.

I lowered the phone.

Tomorrow, I would watch the footage, and learn exactly who thought they could ruin me.

And then I would decide how Los Angeles would remember their name.

I lay back down, staring into the darkness.

Sleep still didn’t come.

But resolve did.

Tomorrow, I will hear the truth.

And whatever waited for me there I would face it.