Chapter 13 - The Sterling Sanctuary
We drove through the wrought-iron security gates of the Sterling Family Estate, a sprawling four-hundred-acre property nestled in the hills of Westchester County. I hadn't been back here since my mother passed away five years ago, but as the Maybach wound up the tree-lined driveway toward the historic stone manor, it felt like my soul was finally exhaling.
The entire household staff stood in a neat line on the front portico, waiting to welcome the new heirs to the estate. Mrs. Higgins, the head housekeeper who had helped raise me as a child, rushed forward with open arms, wiping happy tears into her apron as she peeked into the twin stroller.
"Oh, Miss Elena, they are absolute perfection," she cried softly. "We have the nursery prepared exactly as your grandfather instructed. Everything is organic, hypoallergenic, and sterile."
We took the elevator up to the south wing of the manor. Grandfather had completely transformed my old master suite and the adjoining rooms into a nursery fit for royalty. The walls were painted a calming, soft sage green, adorned with hand-painted murals of woodland creatures. Two custom-made mahogany cribs sat in the center of the room, draped in imported Italian silk canopies.
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I lifted Maya out of her stroller and laid her down on the soft, organic mattress. Oliver followed right beside her. Immediately, the twins turned their heads toward each other, their tiny hands reaching out until their fingers touched. They had been separated in individual incubators since birth; now, they were finally reunited side by side.
I stood over their crib, watching them sleep peacefully under the soft afternoon sunlight streaming through the French windows. The nightmare of the hospital, the fear of the divorce, the cruelty of Marcus—it all felt like a distant, fading shadow. We were home.
