Chapter 3 - The Hospital Room With No Name
The next morning, Dante drove us himself.
No convoy.
No bodyguards.
Just me, Lily, and the man whose name made strangers lower their voices.
I sat in the passenger seat, staring out at Chicago.
“Why would James be in a hospital?”
“We don't know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I refuse to lie to you.”
My hands tightened around my purse.
“Then answer something else. Why would anyone fake my daughter’s birth records?”
Dante looked ahead.
“Because Lily may have been born under circumstances neither you nor James understood.”
I swallowed.
“You think my daughter is connected to your family.”
“I think someone believes she is.”
That distinction mattered.
At the hospital, Dante used a private entrance.
We went to a restricted floor.
Room 917.
The door was open.
The bed was empty.
I stopped.
“What?”
Dante walked inside.
A nurse appeared behind him.
“Mr. Moretti, he was transferred.”
“By whom?”
“Two men.”
“Names?”
She shook her head.
“Federal agents.”
Dante’s expression darkened.
“Did they show identification?”
“Yes.”
“What agency?”
The nurse checked her notes.
“Homeland Security.”
I looked at Dante.
“Why would Homeland Security care about James?”
He didn’t answer.
Then he noticed something under the pillow.
A folded sheet of paper.
He opened it.
I watched his face change.
“What?”
He handed it to me.
Three words.
DON’T TRUST MARTIN.
“Who’s Martin?”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“My head of security.”
Before I could respond, the hospital alarm sounded.
A security guard shouted at the end of the corridor.
“Lockdown!”
The doors slammed shut.
Dante grabbed my hand.
“Stay behind me.”
We moved quickly.
“Why?”
“Because someone wants us trapped here.”
Gunshots echoed downstairs.
Lily began crying.
I held her tighter.
We reached a stairwell.
Dante shoved the door open.
His security team met us halfway.
“Get Sophia out.”
“Where?”
“Private garage.”
We ran.
A man in a white hospital uniform appeared behind us.
Dante stopped.
The man raised a weapon.
I screamed.
Dante moved faster.
There was a struggle.
The gun hit the floor.
The man ran.
Dante didn’t chase him.
Instead, he picked up the weapon.
“Was that Martin?”
“No.”
“Then who was it?”
“A man who knew we were coming.”
The private garage was empty.
Too empty.
Dante pulled out his phone.
“Call Martin.”
One of his men did.
No answer.
Again.
Still nothing.
Dante’s jaw clenched.
“My security chief disappeared.”
“Maybe he’s the one behind this.”
“Maybe.”
That was the first time I realized Dante didn’t trust his own people.
When we returned to the office, I asked him directly.
“Tell me about Lucas.”
He looked tired.
“My brother was twenty-one when he died.”
“How?”
“Car explosion.”
“Accident?”
“No.”
“Who killed him?”
“We never proved it.”
“And your sister?”
“Cancer.”
“You really lost both siblings?”
“Yes.”
He sat at the window.
“Lucas had a daughter.”
I stared.
“What?”
He nodded.
“My niece.”
“Where is she?”
“She disappeared the same night Lucas died.”
I felt a chill.
“What was her name?”
Dante looked at me.
“Lily.”
I nearly dropped my cup.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“My daughter’s name is Lily because I liked the name.”
“I know.”
“Coincidence.”
“I hope so.”
I walked away.
“Dante, stop.”
He didn’t.
“Your Lily was born exactly twelve years after my niece disappeared.”
“That means nothing.”
“Maybe.”
He handed me a DNA report.
I stared at the heading.
I hadn’t even taken a test.
“How did you get this?”
“Your baby’s pacifier.”
“You had my daughter tested?”
“I needed to know.”
I read the result.
No biological relationship to Dante.
No relationship to Lucas.
No relationship to anyone in the Moretti family.
I exhaled.
Dante looked relieved.
“Then why bring it up?”
“Because someone altered the sample.”
I stared.
“What?”
He gave me another report.
This one showed a result claiming Lily was related to Lucas.
“They manufactured evidence.”
“Why?”
“To make people believe she belongs to the Moretti family.”
“And why would that matter?”
Dante was silent.
“Power.”
He finally answered.
“Money. Inheritance. Access.”
I sat down.
“Lily is just a baby.”
“Exactly.”
That night, I returned to the office after everyone had gone home.
I couldn’t sleep.
I opened Dante’s restricted files.
I found one folder labeled MITCHELL.
Inside were dozens of pages.
James.
My relationship with him.
My pregnancy.
My medical records.
But the final page had a handwritten note.
James was not the mastermind.
Below that:
Look for the woman called Evelyn Cross.
I recognized the name.
My mother.
I hadn’t spoken to her in six years.
Dante appeared in the doorway.
“You weren’t supposed to see that.”
“Who is Evelyn Cross?”
His face changed.
“How do you know that name?”
“She’s my mother.”
Dante stared at me.
Then he walked toward me slowly.
“Your mother’s maiden name was Cross?”
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes briefly.
“Then I know who you are.”
“I thought you knew.”
“No.”
His voice dropped.
“I thought I knew who you were.”
He sat down.
“Evelyn Cross worked for my father.”
My mouth went dry.
“What kind of work?”
“She handled financial records.”
My thoughts raced.
“Did she steal something?”
“No.”
“She disappeared shortly before Lucas died.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
Dante leaned toward me.
“Because she knew who ordered the explosion.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A woman whispered:
“Sophia.”
I knew the voice.
My mother.
“Mom?”
“Listen carefully.”
Her voice was shaking.
“Do not trust Dante Moretti.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because he is the reason James disappeared.”
The call ended.
I turned toward Dante.
He looked at me.
“You heard everything.”
“Yes.”
I swallowed.
“Is she lying?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Then he said something I would never forget.
“Your mother is not the person I’m afraid of.”
“Who are you afraid of?”
May you like
He looked at the dark windows.
“Your mother.”
