Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Knew Too Much
By morning, Chloe had learned that Leo Moretti did not believe in half-measures.
There were two new security guards outside her building.
A black sedan was parked across the street.
Her phone had been replaced with another one without her permission.
And a woman named Elena had appeared at her door carrying enough groceries to feed a small family.
Chloe stared at the mountain of food.
“I ordered none of this.”
“Elena did,” the woman said.
“Who is Elena?”
“Mr. Moretti’s house manager.”
“I don’t have a house manager.”
“You do now.”
Chloe closed her eyes.
“This is insane.”
Elena smiled sympathetically.
“So is Mr. Moretti.”
The conversation might have been funny if Chloe had not spent the previous night wondering whether someone intended to hurt her.
She looked at the groceries.
Fresh fruit.
Vegetables.
Soup.
Bread.
Pregnancy-safe snacks.
Iron supplements.
She picked up a bag of crackers.
“He told you?”
“He told me everything I need to know to keep you healthy.”
Chloe frowned.
“Everything?”
Elena gave her a knowing look.
“Not everything.”
Before Chloe could respond, her phone rang.
Leo.
“Are you alone?”
“No.”
“Elena?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“You sound tired.”
“I didn’t sleep.”
“Because of the person who knows?”
“Yes.”
“What did you find?”
“Nothing useful yet.”
Chloe hesitated.
“Are you scared?”
Silence.
Then Leo answered quietly.
“Not for myself.”
Her chest tightened.
That afternoon, she was escorted to the Moretti mansion.
She expected something dark and cold.
Instead, the house was enormous but surprisingly warm, filled with old photographs, dark wood, fireplaces, and signs that people actually lived there.
Leo found her in the library.
“You’re staying here.”
“For how long?”
“Until this is resolved.”
“I have a job.”
“You can work from here.”
“I have a life.”
Leo stepped closer.
“You have a target on your back.”
She glared at him.
“I had a target on my back the moment I agreed to carry your child.”
“That’s why I’m protecting you.”
“You’re also controlling me.”
“Yes.”
At least he was honest.
That made it harder to argue.
Then a woman entered the library.
She was beautiful.
Elegant.
Older than Chloe by perhaps ten years.
She wore a cream suit and carried herself with the absolute confidence of someone who belonged in the house.
Her eyes settled on Chloe.
“So this is her.”
Leo’s expression hardened.
“Bianca.”
Bianca smiled.
“I was curious.”
Chloe folded her arms.
“About?”
“The woman carrying the future of the Moretti family.”
Leo stepped between them.
“You were not invited.”
“I’m family.”
“Not here.”
Bianca’s smile disappeared.
Her gaze moved to Chloe’s stomach.
“You should know something, sweetheart.”
Leo’s voice became dangerously quiet.
“Leave.”
Bianca ignored him.
“The old council has already begun discussing the child.”
“What council?” Chloe asked.
Bianca looked amused.
“You really don’t know anything, do you?”
Leo grabbed her arm.
“Enough.”
Bianca leaned toward Chloe.
“They will never accept an outsider mother unless Leo formally claims you.”
Leo released her.
The silence was brutal.
Chloe looked at him.
“Formally claims me?”
“It’s politics,” Leo said.
“I am not a political document.”
“No.”
He looked at her stomach.
“You’re more important than that.”
That night, Leo explained the problem.
For decades, the Moretti family had maintained an alliance with several old criminal families. The alliance had been based on money, territory, loyalty, and eventually succession.
Leo had no recognized heir.
His pregnancy had changed the balance of power.
If the child was born, the question of succession could no longer be ignored.
Some wanted the baby protected.
Others wanted the baby controlled.
And one faction wanted the child gone.
Chloe listened silently.
“Why would anyone kill an unborn baby?”
Leo’s face was expressionless.
“Because a child can inherit power.”
She shivered.
“What happens if they find me?”
“They won’t.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I’m not.”
It was the first time he had admitted uncertainty.
That scared her.
A loud crash came from downstairs.
Leo immediately reached under his jacket.
Two guards rushed past the library.
Chloe heard shouting.
Then three gunshots.
Leo pushed her behind him.
“Stay here.”
He disappeared through the doorway.
Chloe’s heart hammered.
Seconds later, the sound of a struggle ended.
Leo returned.
Blood stained the sleeve of his coat.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Is it yours?”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“Someone broke into the house.”
Chloe swallowed.
“What did they want?”
Leo’s face hardened.
“They left a message.”
He placed a small white envelope on the desk.
Inside was a photograph.
Chloe stared.
It was her leaving the bakery the previous day.
Taken from across the street.
Her hand was over her stomach.
On the back, written in black ink, were six words:
WE KNOW WHO THE FATHER IS.
Chloe felt her knees weaken.
Leo caught her before she fell.
His arms closed around her.
For the first time, she noticed that he was trembling.
Not much.
But enough.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” he whispered.
Chloe looked up at him.
“Are you afraid?”
His eyes met hers.
“Yes.”
“For me?”
“For both of you.”
She had no answer.
His forehead touched hers.
Neither moved.
Then his phone rang.
Leo answered.
His expression changed instantly.
“What?”
The person on the other end spoke for several seconds.
Leo closed his eyes.
“Where?”
A pause.
“Bring him.”
He hung up.
Chloe knew from his expression that something had gone terribly wrong.
May you like
“Who?”
“Your brother.”
