Chapter 4 - The Son Who Didn't Belong to Vincent MorettiVincent returned to Chicago with more questions than answers.
He had spent five years searching for me.
He had imagined finding me remarried.
He had imagined finding me alone.
He had even imagined discovering that I had died somewhere far away, beyond the reach of his money and influence.
But he had never imagined seeing a living daughter who carried his eyes.
He entered his mansion shortly after midnight.
Sophia was waiting in the living room.
She wore an expensive silk robe.
Her dark hair fell over one shoulder.
"Where have you been?" she demanded.
Vincent didn't answer.
He walked to the bar and poured himself a whiskey.
Sophia followed.
"Your mother said you left town."
He looked at her.
"Did you know Claire's daughter survived?"
Sophia froze.
For half a second, her expression revealed something he had never noticed before.
Fear.
Then she laughed.
"What are you talking about?"
Vincent placed the glass down.
"Answer me."
"Claire lost her baby."
"That's what I was told."
Sophia folded her arms.
"Vincent, you've been obsessed with finding that woman for years. Maybe you're imagining things."
He stepped closer.
"I saw the child."
Sophia's lips parted.
"That's impossible."
Vincent stared at her.
"Why?"
She looked away.
He grabbed her arm.
"Why is it impossible?"
Sophia pulled free.
"You're hurting me."
He released her immediately.
But this time, he didn't apologize.
He looked toward the staircase.
"Where's Noah?"
"Sleeping."
"Wake him."
Sophia stared.
"It's midnight."
"I want a DNA test."
The room went silent.
Sophia's face turned white.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"How dare you?"
Vincent's voice hardened.
"For five years, I've raised that boy as my son."
"He is your son!"
"Then you have nothing to fear."
Sophia began crying.
She had always cried when Vincent questioned her.
For years, tears had been enough to silence him.
Not anymore.
The following morning, Vincent arranged a legally documented paternity test.
Sophia protested.
Margaret intervened.
She called Vincent into his father's old study.
"You're behaving irrationally," she said.
Vincent stood beside the fireplace.
"Did you know Claire's daughter survived?"
Margaret's expression didn't change.
"Don't be ridiculous."
He watched her carefully.
"Answer the question."
"Claire suffered a terrible loss. You shouldn't reopen old wounds."
Vincent moved closer.
"Mother."
Margaret looked away.
And he knew.
For the first time in his life, Vincent realized his mother was afraid of him discovering something.
He contacted the hospital.
He requested the complete medical records.
He hired an independent forensic accountant to examine payments made through the Moretti family trust.
Then he waited.
Three days later, the DNA results arrived.
Vincent opened the envelope alone.
He read the report once.
Then again.
The probability of paternity was effectively zero.
Noah Reynolds was not his biological son.
Vincent sat motionless for nearly an hour.
He remembered Noah's first steps.
His first birthday.
The nights he had carried the boy through the house when he was sick.
He loved Noah.
That didn't change.
But the lie surrounding his birth changed everything else.
When Sophia entered the study, Vincent was waiting.
He placed the report on the desk.
She glanced at it.
Then she stopped breathing.
"Who is his father?" Vincent asked.
Sophia began shaking.
"Vincent, please."
"Who?"
She covered her mouth.
"Daniel."
Vincent stared.
"Daniel died years before Noah was conceived."
Sophia started crying harder.
Vincent's voice became frighteningly quiet.
"Tell me the truth."
She sank into a chair.
Then she whispered a name.
"Michael."
Vincent went still.
Michael Reynolds.
Daniel's younger brother.
A man Vincent believed had disappeared after Daniel's death.
A man who had once worked for the Moretti organization.
A man who knew every secret Daniel had carried to his grave.
Vincent looked at Sophia.
"Where is Michael?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
She began sobbing.
"Your mother said you would never find out."
Vincent felt something cold settle inside him.
"My mother?"
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Sophia looked up.
And in that moment, she realized she had said too much.
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