For two hours my triplets screamed in pain, completely ignoring the doctors—until little Sophie pointed her cloth doll at the corner.

"Clear the room!" I roared.

The nannies didn't ask questions. They scooped Theo, Miles, and Nora into their arms and rushed out the double doors into the hallway.

The moment the babies passed the threshold of the nursery—stepping out of the narrow directional cone of the ultrasonic beam—the change was instantaneous. Within thirty seconds, their frantic, high-pitched shrieks dissolved into soft, exhausted whimpers, and then into complete, breathless silence.

Dr. Gable sank into a chair, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. "My God... they were in physical agony for hours, and we were standing right beside them, completely oblivious."

I didn't answer him. I was looking at Marco.

"Where is the source?" I asked.

Marco stepped onto a mahogany stool, raising the thermal scanner toward the crown molding. The screen displayed a localized heat signature—a tiny, rectangular square measuring no more than two inches wide, concealed behind a decorative wooden acanthus leaf near the ceiling.

"It’s a commercial-grade directional audio transducer, Boss," Marco reported, his thumb tracing the seam of the plaster. "Battery-operated, hardwired with a remote receiver module. Someone put this here manually."

"Who has access to the nursery ceiling?" I asked, my voice chillingly low.

Elena stepped forward, her voice trembling. "Only... only the deep-cleaning crew from the commercial agency we hired last week, Mr. Moretti. And... and the contractor who inspected the ventilation ducts on Monday."

"Marco," I commanded. "Lock down the estate. Nobody leaves. Not the kitchen staff, not the groundskeepers, not the night guards. Shut down the front gate, kill the Wi-Fi network, and activate the signal jammers."

"Understood, Boss." Marco pulled his radio and began issuing commands to the outer perimeter guards.

I walked over to Elena and little Sophie. The four-year-old girl was sitting quietly on a velvet bench near the door, hugging her cloth doll, oblivious to the storm she had just unleashed inside the Moretti empire.

I dropped to one knee in front of her again.

"Sophie," I said gently. "How did you know the wall was humming?"

Sophie looked up, her bright blue eyes wide and clear. "My doll, Barnaby, told me. Barnaby doesn't like loud noises either. When we walked past the door earlier when Mommy was bringing towels, Barnaby's ears started tickling."

I reached out and softly touched the girl's small shoulder. "You saved my children tonight, Sophie. You and Barnaby."

Sophie gave me a tiny, shy smile, cuddling her doll closer.

Elena looked at me with tears in her eyes. "Mr. Moretti, who would do something so cruel to little babies?"

"Someone who wanted to drive me out of this house," I said, standing up to my full height, my dark eyes turning toward the window overlooking the dark pine forests surrounding the estate. "Or someone who wanted my security team distracted while they set a much larger trap."