Chapter 4 - We Found the Missing Girl in a Chicago Church—But She Told Me Isabella Was Alive and Viktor Had Been Betrayed by Everyone He TrustedThe photograph became our only lead.
The hospital bracelet had a number.
Room 318.
St. Catherine's.
An old Chicago hospital.
The records were gone.
But an elderly nurse remembered.
“Twin girls,” she said.
“Twin boys?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Two babies.”
“One boy.”
“One girl.”
I stared.
“Who took the girl?”
The nurse looked toward Viktor.
“Your wife.”
“What?”
“She was terrified.”
“Of whom?”
“Your father.”
Viktor's face hardened.
“Why?”
“She believed he wanted the children separated.”
The nurse gave us a name.
A church.
A priest.
A safe house.
We found the church two days later.
Inside, a teenage girl was sitting alone.
Dark hair.
Gray eyes.
She looked exactly like Misha.
Viktor stopped breathing.
The girl stood.
“Papa?”
The word broke him.
He walked toward her slowly.
“Lucia?”
She nodded.
I watched father and daughter embrace.
Then Misha ran to her.
For the first time, the children looked complete.
But Lucia was terrified.
She told us everything.
Isabella had discovered that Viktor's father planned to use Misha and Lucia as political leverage.
She tried to protect them.
Stefan helped her.
Or so she thought.
Then he betrayed her.
He took Lucia.
Isabella escaped.
She was alive.
She had been hiding.
“Where?” Viktor asked.
Lucia whispered,
“Canada.”
My heart jumped.
“Is she alive now?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“She calls.”
“Why doesn't she come home?”
Lucia's eyes filled with tears.
“Because someone is watching her.”
Viktor sat down.
He looked devastated.
“She thought I had abandoned her.”
“She didn't know you were looking.”
“She should have.”
Lucia stared at him.
“She was scared.”
Viktor looked down.
For the first time, I saw the man behind the legend.
A father who had spent years believing his family was dead.
I touched his shoulder.
He looked at me.
“Thank you.”
I smiled.
“We're not done.”
He nodded.
The next morning, Isabella called.
Her voice was weak.
“Viktor.”
He couldn't speak.
“Is that really you?”
“Yes.”
She cried.
“I'm sorry.”
“You're alive.”
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
“Don't ask.”
“I need you home.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because Stefan isn't the only one.”
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
Viktor froze.
“My mother died.”
“No.”
Isabella whispered,
“She has been working with Stefan for years.”
The call ended.
Viktor stared at the phone.
I took his hand.
He looked at me.
“I don't know who to trust.”
“You can trust me.”
He looked at me.
“You shouldn't.”
“I know.”
He smiled faintly.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“No.”
But we both knew it was true.
That night, we returned to the diner.
I wanted to see the place again.
Viktor followed.
Misha and Lucia were with us.
For the first time, my little diner was full.
Laughter.
Children.
Warm food.
Viktor sat in Booth Three.
The same place where Misha had eaten his first meal.
I brought him coffee.
He tasted it.
“Bad.”
I laughed.
“Then don't drink it.”
He drank again.
“It's growing on me.”
I smiled.
Then the front window shattered.
Everyone ducked.
A bullet hit the wall.
Viktor grabbed the children.
Security reacted.
I crawled behind the counter.
Another bullet.
Then a note came through the broken window.
Viktor picked it up.
His face turned pale.
“What?”
He handed it to me.
Five words.
THE GIRL WAS NEVER THE TARGET.
I looked at Lucia.
Then Misha.
Then Viktor.
The children were only bait.
Someone wanted something else.
Someone wanted access to Viktor.
May you like
And perhaps—
me.
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