Chapter 6 - The Weight of Retribution
For two hours, Sebastian sat alone in his darkened study. The weight of his actions crushed down upon him like an avalanche. He thought of Grace working long night shifts while carrying his son. He thought of her sleeping in a tiny, cramped studio apartment, buying cheap food, and weeping alone in the dark because the man she trusted had called her a liar and a thief.
He had acted like a monster. He had used his power, his wealth, and his cynicism as a shield against the very miracle he had prayed for as a younger man.
A soft knock at the study door broke his trance. Viktor stepped inside, looking grim.
“Boss,” Viktor said softly. “The Moretti family is making moves. Marco’s brother Donato is gathering men at their docks in South Chicago. They know Marco was humiliated last night, and Donato wants blood. They’re planning to strike our supply lines tonight.”
Sebastian stood up. The grief and self-hatred in his eyes instantly morphed into something cold, lethal, and absolute.
“They targeted Grace,” Sebastian said, his voice dripping with venom. “Marco put a gun to her head. He threatened my child.”
“What are your orders, sir?”
“End them,” Sebastian said simply. “Call every lieutenant. I want the Moretti syndicate erased from Chicago by midnight. No negotiations. No warnings. If anyone raises a hand against my family, they don't get a second chance.”
For the next ten hours, Sebastian unleashed a systematic, ruthless campaign against the Moretti family. Using his vast intelligence network, his political leverage, and his formidable security forces, he dismantled their operations, seized their shipments, and forced Donato Moretti to flee the country in disgrace. By sunset, the threat to Grace and his unborn child was permanently eliminated.
When Sebastian returned to the Lake Forest estate at 9:00 PM, he was exhausted, soaked in rain once again, but his heart was focused on a far more difficult battle: seeking forgiveness from the woman he had broken.
He walked upstairs to Grace’s room and knocked softly on the door.
“Come in,” Grace’s gentle voice called out.
Sebastian opened the door and stepped inside. Grace was sitting near the window, wrapped in a soft cashmere blanket, reading a book. The warm light from the floor lamp cast a gentle glow over her bump, which looked beautiful and pronounced.
Sebastian stopped a few feet away from her. He looked down at his shoes, unable to meet her eyes.
“Marco Moretti and his family are gone,” Sebastian said quietly. “They will never threaten you or Chicago again. You are entirely safe.”
Grace set her book down on the table. She looked at his tired, battered face and saw a profound change in him. The icy arrogance was gone. In its place was a man stripped bare of his defenses.
“Thank you, Sebastian,” she said softly. “For protecting us last night, and for settling it.”
Sebastian swallowed hard. He pulled two pieces of paper from his inner jacket pocket and stepped forward, laying them gently on the small table beside her.
One was the original, verified medical report from London proving he was fertile.
The other was the torn ultrasound from eight weeks, carefully taped back together with clear tape, every edge aligned with painstaking precision.
Grace looked at the two papers, then raised her eyes to Sebastian in confusion. “What is this?”
“My uncle lied to me seven years ago,” Sebastian said, his voice cracking as the tears he had held back for months finally flooded his eyes. “He forged a medical report to make me believe I could never have children. He wanted to ensure I left no heir.”
Grace stared at him, her lips parting in shock. “Sebastian…”
“I believed him,” Sebastian sobbed, dropping to his knees beside her chair, putting his hands on the armrests, and bowing his head until his forehead rested against her knee. “I believed him for seven years. And when you came to my penthouse… when you handed me that picture… I was so terrified of being fooled, so blinded by my own damaged soul, that I destroyed the greatest gift God ever gave me.”
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Grace felt her heart break for the man kneeling at her feet. She saw the raw, agonized tears streaming down his face—the billionaire who ruled a city, weeping like a broken boy on the carpet of her bedroom.
“Grace,” Sebastian wept, his voice shaking violently. “I called you a liar. I let you walk out into the rain. I let you suffer alone for six months while you carried my son inside you. I don't ask you to forgive me. I don't deserve your forgiveness. I don't deserve to be a father to this child. But please… please let me take care of you. Let me give you everything I have. Even if you hate me for the rest of my life, let me keep you safe.”
