Chapter 2 - The Seven-Year-Old Girl My Husband Had Never MetThe first thing Luca Ferraro discovered about my secret life was that I had been keeping a photograph inside my wallet.
It wasn't a photograph of him.
It wasn't from our wedding.
It showed a little girl with dark curls, enormous brown eyes, and a smile that revealed one missing front tooth.
On the back, written in purple marker, were five words.
AUNT NORA, DON'T FORGET ME.
Luca found it at 2:13 in the morning while searching my purse for my insurance information.
He stood beside my hospital bed, staring at the picture.
I was awake by then.
An emergency physician had reviewed my blood tests and explained that I had severe iron-deficiency anemia, made worse by exhaustion, poor nutrition, and dehydration.
My hemoglobin was low enough, especially with my symptoms, that the medical team wanted to keep me under observation and discuss treatment.
They had already started appropriate supportive care and were arranging further investigation into why my iron levels had fallen so far.
Luca had listened without interrupting.
But I knew the questions were coming.
He turned the photograph toward me.
"Is this Evie?"
I nodded.
"Who is she?"
"My niece."
He looked confused.
"Your sister's daughter?"
"Yes."
"Mara's?"
The name hurt.
Mara had been my older sister.
My protector.
The person who taught me how to braid my hair, apply for college scholarships, and survive our parents' deaths.
She had also been the only person who truly understood why I married Luca.
Three months earlier, Mara had died in a highway accident.
Luca knew that much.
He'd sent flowers to the funeral.
A beautiful arrangement that probably cost more than Mara's first car.
He hadn't attended.
He'd been negotiating a hotel acquisition in Atlantic City.
"Why didn't you tell me about the girl?" he asked.
I looked at the photograph.
"Because Mara asked me not to."
"Why would she ask that?"
I hesitated.
Because that was where the truth became dangerous.
Evie had been diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia six months earlier.
Mara had spent every available moment at St. Bridget's Children's Hospital, sleeping in uncomfortable chairs beside her daughter and trying to remain cheerful despite the terror consuming her.
I had joined her whenever possible.
Then Mara's car had gone off an icy service road on a warm August evening.
The police called it an accident.
The medical examiner confirmed that she'd died from injuries sustained in the collision.
But the week before her death, Mara had called me crying.
"Nora, if anything happens to me, don't let the Ferraros take Evie."
I'd thought she was frightened by the stress of her daughter's illness.
Now I wasn't sure.
After Mara died, I became Evie's legal guardian.
I kept her in the hospital's care and, during the periods she could safely leave, in the small Queens apartment where Mara's longtime friend Elena Ortiz helped care for her.
I visited every day I could.
Sometimes twice.
But I never brought Evie to the mansion.
I never mentioned her to Luca.
And I never allowed Carlo Ferraro to learn her name.
Luca sat beside my bed.
"Why was your niece hidden from me?"
"She wasn't hidden from you personally."
"Then from whom?"
I looked toward the door.
He understood.
"Carlo?"
I didn't answer.
Luca stood and crossed the room.
He spoke quietly to Marco outside, then returned and pulled a chair closer.
"I want the truth, Nora."
I gave him a tired smile.
"That's interesting."
His expression tightened.
"What?"
"Eleven months of marriage, and this is the first time you've asked what I do all day."
He looked away.
I continued before I lost the courage.
"Evie has leukemia. She's been through months of treatment. Her doctors believe a stem-cell transplant offers her a chance, but they need a suitable donor."
Luca glanced at the wristband lying on the bedside table.
"You?"
"I've been tested."
"Are you a match?"
"The doctors say I'm a very strong match."
He looked at me as if I had spoken another language.
"You were planning to donate?"
"Yes."
"Without telling me?"
I felt something hot rise in my chest.
"Would you have noticed if I had?"
The words struck harder than I'd intended.
Luca leaned back.
I could see him trying to defend himself.
Trying to explain the missed dinners, the long absences, the demands of his empire.
But he didn't.
I told him what the donor evaluation involved.
The blood tests.
The consultations.
The additional screening.
The way I'd spent the previous afternoon at St. Bridget's while a transplant coordinator explained that my health mattered too.
My iron levels were far too low for the team to clear me for donation at that point.
They needed to understand and correct the anemia before deciding whether I could safely proceed.
Evie's doctors were also searching the donor registry and considering other options.
Nothing was guaranteed.
And every day felt precious.
"Why didn't you get treatment earlier?" Luca asked.
"I kept thinking I could manage another week."
"Nora."
"I know."
My voice broke.
"I know I should have listened."
For several seconds, he stared at the floor.
Then he asked a question I hadn't expected.
"Does she know about me?"
"Evie?"
He nodded.
"She knows I'm married."
"What have you told her?"
I looked at him.
"That you're very busy."
Luca closed his eyes.
It was such a small sentence.
Yet I think it hurt him more than any accusation could have.
The next morning, Luca canceled every meeting on his calendar.
His chief of staff called repeatedly.
His attorney wanted him at the office.
A shipping executive had flown from Miami for a meeting that couldn't be postponed.
Luca answered one call.
"Reschedule."
A voice protested loudly enough for me to hear.
"Mr. Ferraro, this transaction concerns nearly forty million dollars."
"My wife is in the hospital."
"Sir, your uncle says—"
"I don't care what my uncle says."
He ended the call.
I watched him place the phone facedown.
"You don't have to stay."
"I know."
"You have work."
"I know."
I studied his expression.
"Are you going to keep answering everything like that?"
A faint, almost painful smile appeared.
"Probably not."
He moved closer.
"Can I ask you something?"
I nodded.
"Did you spend any of the money I gave you on Evie's treatment?"
"Not directly."
"Why not?"
"Her care has insurance coverage, and the hospital has financial assistance for what insurance doesn't cover. I've been paying for transportation, meals, home care, and other expenses from my savings."
He frowned.
"You have hundreds of thousands of dollars in your account."
"I know."
"That money belongs to you."
I looked at the blanket.
"Does it?"
"Nora."
"The contract made it feel like payment for being your wife. I didn't want Evie to become another part of that arrangement."
He was silent.
I had never asked Luca for money.
Not once.
He'd mistaken that for contentment.
In truth, I'd been terrified of losing the last thing I still controlled.
My dignity.
Luca reached for the photograph of Evie again.
"Does she like chocolate?"
I blinked.
"What?"
"Evie. Does she like chocolate?"
I almost laughed.
"She used to. These days, her appetite changes depending on how she's feeling."
"What does she like now?"
"Space."
"Space?"
"Planets. Stars. Astronauts. She wants to build a rocket someday."
He examined the picture more closely.
"She has your eyes."
"No. She has Mara's."
He looked up.
For the first time, I saw real grief in his face over the sister I'd lost.
"I'm sorry I wasn't at the funeral."
I swallowed.
"You sent flowers."
"That wasn't the same."
"No," I whispered. "It wasn't."
He nodded slowly.
"I know."
By afternoon, I was stable enough to sit up comfortably.
Dr. Patel had arranged follow-up care, and the hospital team continued evaluating my anemia.
I called St. Bridget's to let Evie know I wouldn't be visiting.
Her nurse put the call through to the tablet beside her bed.
"Aunt Nora!"
Her face appeared on the screen.
She wore a purple knit cap covered in tiny stars.
"Why didn't you come yesterday?"
"I wasn't feeling very well, sweetheart."
Her smile disappeared.
"Are you sick?"
"Just tired. The doctors are helping me."
"Like my doctors?"
"Something like that."
She looked worried.
"Did they give you the terrible orange medicine?"
"No, honey."
"Good. It tastes like melted pennies."
Despite everything, I laughed.
Then Evie noticed someone standing behind me.
"Who's that?"
I turned.
Luca was near the window.
"That's Luca."
Her eyes widened.
"Your husband?"
"Yes."
"The one with the big house?"
I glanced at him.
"That's the one."
Evie leaned toward the camera.
"Hi, Mr. Luca."
He stepped closer.
For a man who could negotiate with dangerous criminals without raising his voice, he suddenly looked completely uncertain.
"Hello, Evie."
She studied him.
"Are you really a billionaire?"
"Evie," I whispered.
Luca almost smiled.
"No. Not exactly."
"Do you have a spaceship?"
"No."
"Then what's the point of being rich?"
I covered my mouth.
Luca stared at her.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
It was a deep, surprised sound.
I had heard it only a handful of times.
Evie grinned.
"Can you buy Aunt Nora a new coat? Her old one always gets wet."
Luca turned toward me.
I looked away.
"And," Evie continued, suddenly serious, "can you make sure she eats dinner?"
The room became quiet.
"She keeps saying she already ate, but I think she's lying because she always gives me her crackers."
I felt tears gathering.
"Evie, sweetheart—"
"I worry about her," the little girl said.
Luca crouched beside my bed so his face filled the screen.
His voice became very gentle.
"I'll make sure she eats."
Evie narrowed her eyes.
"Promise?"
"I promise."
She considered him.
"Okay. But grown-ups break promises sometimes."
Luca's expression changed.
"You're right."
Then he looked at me.
"They do."
That evening, when Evie was resting, Luca asked whether he could visit her.
I was tempted to refuse.
Not because I wanted to punish him.
Because I was frightened of what would happen if he learned how much of my life I'd kept separate from his.
But there was another reason.
Mara's warning.
Don't let the Ferraros take Evie.
I looked at Luca.
"Before I let you meet her, I need you to promise something."
"Anything."
"Don't tell Carlo."
His face hardened.
"You've said that twice."
"And I'll say it again."
"Why are you afraid of him?"
I hesitated.
"Because Mara was."
"What did he do to her?"
I looked down at my hands.
"I don't know."
That was the truth.
The worst kind of truth.
I had suspicions.
Fragments.
A frightened phone call.
An unusual accident.
And an envelope my sister had hidden shortly before she died.
But I had nothing I could prove.
Luca leaned forward.
"Nora, if someone hurt Mara, I'll find out."
The old Luca would have sounded threatening.
This one sounded almost pleading.
I shook my head.
"That's what scares me."
"Why?"
"Because if you find out your family was involved, I don't know which side you'll choose."
He stared at me.
Then he answered quietly.
"The side that's telling the truth."
I wanted to believe him.
I wanted it desperately.
Before I could respond, his phone vibrated.
A new message from Carlo.
Your wife has been visiting St. Bridget's. We need to discuss what she's doing there.
Luca read it.
His expression went completely still.
He turned the screen away from me, but I'd already seen the words.
My pulse began racing.
"Luca?"
He didn't answer.
"Luca, how does he know?"
For several seconds, he stared at the message.
Then he called Marco.
"Find out who has been following my wife."
Marco answered immediately.
"Sir?"
"Quietly. And do not tell my uncle."
Luca ended the call.
I felt cold despite the hospital blankets.
Because suddenly, the question wasn't whether my husband would discover my secret.
May you like
It was whether his uncle had already discovered it.
And whether Evie was safe.
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