Chapter 2 - The Chase Begins
By eight-thirty that morning, Adrian Moretti had turned Manhattan upside down.
His security team searched every property connected to me.
They checked airports.
Train stations.
Private clinics.
Hotels.
Bank transactions.
Phone records.
Every camera within the radius of our penthouse.
But I had prepared better than Adrian realized.
Evelyn Hart had warned me.
“If you leave, don't leave a trail.”
So I had not used any of Adrian's cards.
I had not taken a company car.
I had not used my usual phone.
I had withdrawn a small amount of cash over several days and transferred a modest amount into an account Adrian had never known existed.
It wasn't much.
But it was enough to disappear.
Sophie drove me farther north.
We ended up in a quiet town where no one knew the Moretti name mattered.
I rented a small cottage with two bedrooms.
The wallpaper was old.
The floor creaked.
The heating system sounded like it might explode.
I loved it immediately.
“This is terrible,” Sophie said.
“It has windows.”
“Claire.”
“And nobody here knows him.”
She sighed.
“You're really doing this.”
“Yes.”
She sat beside me.
“Are you afraid?”
I looked at the snow outside.
“Yes.”
“Of Adrian?”
“No.”
That surprised her.
“Then what?”
I touched my stomach.
“Of becoming my mother.”
My mother had spent years forgiving my father for choosing work, money, and secrets over her.
One day, she finally stopped asking him to come home.
She died without ever seeing an apology.
I had spent my whole life promising myself I would never beg a man to choose me.
Then Adrian happened.
And somehow, without noticing, I had become exactly what I hated.
Waiting.
Forgiving.
Excusing.
Hoping.
In New York, Adrian was not coping well with being powerless.
He entered his private office and threw a glass against the wall.
His security chief, Dominic Russo, stood near the door.
Dominic was one of the few men Adrian trusted completely.
“Sir.”
“Where is she?”
“We're still searching.”
“Try harder.”
“We have people checking every route north.”
Adrian looked at the ultrasound again.
“She's pregnant.”
Dominic swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Eight weeks.”
“Yes.”
“How did I not know?”
Dominic didn't answer.
The truth was obvious.
Adrian had not been paying enough attention.
He had mistaken secrecy for protection.
He had mistaken Claire's patience for permanent loyalty.
He had mistaken her love for something he could always recover.
“Get me Evelyn Hart,” he said.
“Her attorney?”
“Yes.”
An hour later, Evelyn walked into Adrian's office carrying the original divorce papers.
“You don't get to threaten me,” she said immediately.
Adrian looked at her.
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Good. Because I know exactly who you are.”
“So do I.”
“No, Adrian. You know who you are. You don't know who you became in her life.”
He stared at her.
“Where is Claire?”
“I can't tell you.”
“She's my wife.”
“According to those papers, perhaps not for long.”
His hands tightened.
“The divorce isn't finalized.”
“She has the right to leave.”
“She is carrying my child.”
“And you should have thought about that before denying the marriage.”
Adrian looked away.
For the first time in years, someone in his office wasn't afraid of him.
Evelyn placed another document on the table.
“She wants no money from you.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“No apartment. No jewelry. No company shares. She only wants a clean legal separation and protection for herself and the baby.”
He looked at her.
“The baby isn't being taken from me.”
“That depends entirely on what kind of man you choose to be now.”
Adrian's expression softened for one second.
Then hardened.
“Someone is helping her.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“A friend.”
“Name.”
“No.”
He stood.
“Ms. Hart.”
She didn't move.
“You can intimidate half of New York. It won't work on me.”
Adrian stared at her.
“Then what does?”
“Truth.”
That word struck harder than any threat.
Later that day, Adrian returned to the gala photographs.
He told security to bring him every image.
He stopped when he found one.
Claire stood near the column.
She was looking at him.
He could see everything in her face.
Hope.
Then disappointment.
Then something else.
Finality.
Adrian zoomed in on her hands.
Her wedding ring was visible.
He closed his eyes.
He remembered the night he had married her.
It had rained.
She had laughed because the courthouse umbrella had broken.
He had promised her one thing.
“You will never regret choosing me.”
He had failed that promise.
Not once.
Not twice.
For three years.
That evening, Adrian called Vanessa Russo.
She answered on the second ring.
“Adrian?”
“What did you know?”
Silence.
“About Claire.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“You were standing beside me when I denied my marriage.”
Vanessa laughed nervously.
“You told me you weren't married.”
“I was.”
She went quiet.
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“Don't lie to me.”
“I swear I didn't know.”
Adrian studied his memories.
Vanessa had been too interested in Claire over the last year.
She had asked several questions about my work.
My schedule.
My role in the company.
At the time, Adrian had ignored it.
Now he couldn't.
“Who told you to come to the gala?”
Vanessa paused.
“I came for you.”
“No.”
“What?”
“You came because someone wanted you standing beside me.”
She hung up.
Adrian stared at the phone.
Then Dominic entered.
“We found something.”
“What?”
“A private investigator hired by someone connected to the Russo family was tracking Claire for months.”
Adrian's eyes went cold.
“Why?”
“We don't know yet.”
“Find out.”
The investigation uncovered something even worse.
The investigator wasn't looking for Claire's marriage.
He was looking into her father.
Thomas Bennett.
A man who had supposedly died in a car accident twelve years earlier.
Adrian knew that name.
His father had once mentioned Thomas Bennett.
Never in a good way.
Adrian went to his father's old records.
There, buried inside a locked cabinet, he found a photograph.
Thomas Bennett.
And beside him stood an older man.
Adrian recognized him.
His own father.
The two men were not business partners.
They were enemies.
And the date on the photograph was thirteen years earlier.
One year before Thomas Bennett died.
Adrian turned the photograph over.
Written on the back were six words.
The Bennett ledger was never recovered.
Adrian stared at them.
The room suddenly felt much colder.
Meanwhile, Claire had no idea her father's past was about to collide with her future.
She was sitting in the cottage kitchen, one hand around a cup of tea.
Sophie was making soup.
“You should tell him.”
Claire looked up.
“No.”
“Eventually.”
“Eventually isn't a reason.”
“He deserves to know his child.”
“He deserved to know his wife.”
Sophie sighed.
“He's still the father.”
Claire looked down at the ultrasound.
“I know.”
She touched the image gently.
“And I don't want my baby growing up hating him.”
“That's different from letting him hurt you.”
“I know.”
Outside, snow began falling.
Claire looked through the window.
She had left Adrian because she wanted peace.
May you like
But Adrian Moretti had never lived a peaceful life.
And now the past had found them both.
