Chapter 2 - The Man Who Couldn't Promise
Dominic Moretti had faced armed men without blinking.
He had watched rivals beg for their lives, negotiated million-dollar deals with a gun pointed beneath the table, and buried people whose names could have brought down half of New York.
But a six-year-old girl in a blue dress had just asked him a question he couldn't answer.
Would you leave me too?
For a moment, the courtyard disappeared. Dominic wasn't looking at Lily anymore. He was staring at a memory he'd spent six years trying to bury.
A hospital room.
A woman with pale lips.
A tiny hand slipping from his fingers.
Promise me you won't let our daughter grow up believing she wasn't worth staying for.
Dominic's throat tightened.
He had never made that promise.
Because he'd never found their daughter.
"Lily," he said carefully, "I won't lie to you."
The little girl lowered her eyes.
That was the wrong answer. He knew it from the way her fingers curled around Mr. Bear.
"Sometimes grown-ups make promises they can't keep," he continued. "I don't want to be another grown-up who tells you something beautiful and then disappears."
"Does that mean you're leaving?"
"No."
"Does it mean you're staying?"
He looked at her wheelchair, her tiny pearl buttons, and the brave little smile she was trying to force onto her face.
"It means I'm going to do everything I can to stay."
Lily studied him as if she were deciding whether his words were safe enough to hold.
"Can you promise to come back tomorrow?"
Dominic exhaled.
"Yes."
She extended her smallest finger.
"Pinky promise?"
He stared at the offered finger. His bodyguards watched from several feet away, visibly confused. Their employer had once refused to shake hands with a senator who'd insulted him.
Now he carefully hooked his little finger around a child's.
"Pinky promise."
Lily smiled.
It wasn't the practiced smile Mrs. Bell had taught her. It was crooked, hesitant, and real.
Dominic felt something inside him shift.
Behind them, the orphanage director cleared her throat.
"Mr. Moretti, perhaps we should discuss the practicalities privately."
He didn't look away from Lily.
"What practicalities?"
"The adoption process, of course. There are medical considerations, background checks, financial disclosures—"
"Then we'll follow every requirement."
The director blinked. "You mean you're considering—"
"I'm not considering anything yet," Dominic interrupted. "I'm getting to know her."
For the first time that afternoon, the director looked genuinely relieved.
Dominic noticed.
He also noticed that Mrs. Bell, the children's caretaker, was standing near the doorway with both hands pressed against her mouth. Tears shone in her eyes.
When Dominic rose, Lily caught his sleeve.
"Mr. Moretti?"
"Dominic."
"Dominic, do you have a house?"
"Several."
"Does one have a garden?"
"Yes."
"With birds?"
"If the birds behave themselves."
She giggled.
It was such a small sound that Dominic almost missed it. Yet he found himself wanting to hear it again.
"I'd like to see it someday," she whispered.
"You will."
He immediately regretted saying it so confidently. He hadn't yet met the adoption agency's requirements, much less passed the scrutiny that came with his criminal reputation.
But Lily had already begun to believe him.
That made the promise more dangerous than any threat he'd ever issued.
As Dominic prepared to leave, Mrs. Bell approached him.
"Mr. Moretti, could I speak with you?"
He glanced at Lily.
"I'll be right back, princess."
She nodded and returned to brushing Mr. Bear's ear.
Mrs. Bell led Dominic into the small administrative office. Once the door closed, her expression changed.
"I need you to understand something about Lily," she whispered.
"Go ahead."
"She's been here since she was a baby. She doesn't remember her parents. But sometimes, when she's frightened, she asks for someone named Elena."
Dominic went perfectly still.
Elena.
His dead wife's name.
"Who taught her that name?"
"Nobody knows. She sometimes says it in her sleep."
Mrs. Bell opened a drawer and removed a small paper envelope.
"We found this among her belongings when she arrived. The director told us to put it in storage."
Dominic reached for it.
The envelope was yellowed at the edges. A hospital bracelet lay inside, along with a photograph of a newborn wrapped in a white blanket.
On the back, someone had written four words.
For Dominic. Our daughter.
His hands began to shake.
"No," he whispered.
Mrs. Bell's face crumpled.
"I was afraid you'd recognize it."
Dominic turned the photograph over again. He knew the blanket. He knew the tiny silver charm pinned to it.
He had bought that charm for Elena before she died.
For six years, he'd believed his daughter had died with her mother.
Now he was standing in an orphanage, holding proof that someone might have lied to him.
"Who brought Lily here?" he demanded.
"An ambulance crew. The records say she was found outside a hospital."
"Which hospital?"
Mrs. Bell hesitated.
Before she could answer, a sharp knock sounded against the door.
The orphanage director stepped inside, her face pale.
"Mr. Moretti, you need to leave. Immediately."
Dominic slipped the photograph into his pocket.
"Why?"
"Because someone just called asking whether you were here."
"Who?"
The director swallowed.
"They said they were Lily's biological family."
Dominic's eyes turned cold.
"That's impossible."
"Apparently," she whispered, "they have a birth certificate proving otherwise."
Then she handed him a document bearing a name that made the blood drain from his face.
Elena Moretti.
May you like
And beneath it was a signature Dominic recognized better than his own.
His wife's.
