Chapter 4 - The Pregnancy They Were Afraid Of
By the end of that week, I was no longer simply investigating my husband.
I was investigating my own family.
My mother returned three days later.
She walked into my hotel room looking ten years older.
I ran to her.
“Where were you?”
She held me tightly.
“I’m sorry.”
“You scared me.”
“I know.”
I pulled away.
“Tell me everything.”
She looked at Dante.
He stood near the window.
For several seconds, they stared at each other.
“You look like your father,” Mom whispered.
Dante's expression darkened.
“You knew him well?”
“I knew enough.”
“Tell her.”
Mom looked at me.
“I worked for Victor Moretti.”
“You told me.”
“I was also the person who found evidence that his company was being used to launder money.”
Dante said nothing.
Mom continued.
“I tried to tell Victor.”
“Did he listen?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because by then, he was already sick.”
I sat down.
“What happened to Olivia?”
“Olivia discovered the same thing.”
“So you worked together.”
“Yes.”
“And then she died.”
Mom began crying.
“I tried to protect her.”
“But you failed.”
“I know.”
The words hung between us.
“What was she trying to give me?”
“A financial ledger.”
“Where is it?”
Mom stared at Dante.
“You already know.”
He frowned.
“I don't.”
Mom pointed toward me.
“Her wedding ring.”
I touched my necklace.
My wedding ring wasn't there.
I wore it on my hand.
Mom shook her head.
“No. The ring Olivia wore.”
Dante stepped forward.
“What are you saying?”
“Victor gave Olivia a ring with a hidden compartment.”
Dante's eyes changed.
I suddenly remembered something.
Years ago, before our wedding, Dante had given me an antique ring as a joke.
He had said it belonged to his sister.
I still had it.
I had kept it in a jewelry box.
We returned to the penthouse under police escort.
Everything felt unfamiliar.
I went upstairs.
I opened the box.
The ring was there.
Dante stared.
“Olivia’s.”
Mom nodded.
“Press the stone.”
He did.
Nothing happened.
Then he twisted it.
A tiny compartment opened.
Inside was a microchip.
Dante went completely still.
“My God.”
Mom whispered, “She knew.”
I looked at both of them.
“Knew what?”
Mom's eyes filled with tears.
“That one day you'd be the person who could finish what she started.”
The microchip contained encrypted files.
Dante took it to a secure analyst.
The files showed years of payments through shell companies.
Names appeared.
Executives.
Fixers.
Judges.
Contractors.
And one name appeared more than any other.
Nicholas Moretti.
Dante's uncle.
I looked at Dante.
“Your uncle?”
“He was supposed to be overseas.”
“Was he involved?”
“Apparently.”
The next file opened.
A recording.
Olivia’s voice filled the room.
“If anything happens to me, it was Nicholas.”
Dante leaned toward the screen.
Olivia continued.
“He believes my brother will inherit everything and eventually destroy the network. He wants Dante controlled. He wants our father's company controlled.”
Then Olivia said something unexpected.
“There is another person I don't trust.”
The recording crackled.
“Dante.”
I looked at my husband.
His face had gone pale.
The recording continued.
“He doesn't know the entire truth.”
Then the screen went black.
Dante didn't speak for a long time.
Finally, he said, “She knew more than I did.”
I watched him.
“You were protecting me from the wrong people.”
“Yes.”
“And hiding the truth from me.”
“Yes.”
My anger returned.
“So even if your intentions were good, you still lied.”
“Yes.”
I appreciated that he didn't defend himself.
Then my phone rang.
The maternal-fetal specialist's office.
I answered.
“Ms. Hart?”
“Yes?”
“We reviewed your scan.”
My heart began racing.
“Is the baby okay?”
“Yes.”
“Both babies?”
There was a pause.
“Yes. Both babies are developing.”
I closed my eyes.
Dante looked at me.
The doctor continued.
“We found something unusual. One baby appears to have a genetic marker that requires further testing.”
My voice shook.
“What kind of marker?”
“We won't know until testing is complete.”
I swallowed.
“Could it be dangerous?”
“Not necessarily.”
After the call ended, Dante stepped closer.
“Twins?”
I nodded.
A small smile appeared on his face.
The first genuine smile I'd seen from him in months.
“Twins.”
I should have felt happy.
Instead, fear rushed over me.
“You don't get to become a father just because you finally know.”
His smile disappeared.
“I know.”
“Your children need safety.”
“I'll give them that.”
“And I won't let them grow up surrounded by your enemies.”
“They won't.”
“You don't know that.”
He took a breath.
“Then I'll make sure.”
That night, we moved into a temporary safe house.
For the first time in five years, Dante slept on the couch.
I slept upstairs.
At three in the morning, I heard glass break.
I jumped out of bed.
Dante was already running.
Gunshots erupted outside.
Security guards shouted.
I locked the bedroom door.
Then I heard Dante yelling my name.
“Lena!”
I couldn't answer.
A shadow appeared beneath the door.
Then a voice.
“Mrs. Moretti?”
I backed away.
The voice continued.
“Your babies are worth more to them than you realize.”
The door handle turned.
Then a gunshot cracked.
The door swung inward.
Dante rushed through.
The attacker was gone.
On the floor lay a small envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
An ultrasound image.
My ultrasound.
Taken that morning.
On the back was a handwritten message.
Two babies.
Two heirs.
Only one family will survive.
Dante stared at it.
His expression changed.
“This is bigger than Olivia.”
May you like
He looked at me.
“They know about the twins.”
