Chapter 3 - THE BROTHER WHO CAME WITH FLOWERS
Adrian Moretti arrived forty minutes later carrying white roses.
He entered the estate as if nothing in the world had changed, wearing a charcoal suit and an expression of carefully rehearsed concern.
"Where is she?"
Lorenzo met him in the foyer.
"Upstairs. With the doctor."
Adrian's shoulders sagged with relief.
"Thank God."
He reached for his brother's arm.
Lorenzo stepped aside.
Adrian noticed.
"What happened?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out."
Victor appeared behind Lorenzo.
Adrian glanced at him, then returned his attention to his brother.
"Have the police found anything?"
"Not yet."
"Then we need to increase the pressure. I've already contacted our people at the port. If the kidnappers tried to move her out of the city—"
"How did you know a car was used?"
Adrian stopped.
"What?"
"The police haven't released that information."
A brief silence passed between them.
Then Adrian gave a small, disbelieving laugh.
"Lorenzo, come on. We both know how these things work. A six-month-old baby doesn't walk out of Central Park."
Lorenzo said nothing.
Adrian's expression changed.
"What's going on?"
"Someone brought Sophia to the Chatsworth."
Adrian went still.
"The hotel?"
"That's right."
"Why?"
"That's what I'd like to know."
Adrian put the roses on a nearby table.
"Have you questioned the staff?"
"One of them found her."
"Found her where?"
"In a dumpster."
For the first time, Adrian's mask slipped.
Not for long. Just long enough.
His eyes widened, and his mouth opened slightly before he regained control.
"A dumpster?"
"Yes."
"That's monstrous."
"Agreed."
Adrian looked toward the stairs.
"Can I see her?"
"Not yet."
"She's my niece."
"And she's exhausted. The doctor wants her resting."
Adrian's jaw tightened.
"You think I had something to do with this."
It was not a question.
Lorenzo studied his brother.
"I think someone used a vehicle connected to your division."
Adrian stared at him.
Then he laughed again, this time with genuine offense.
"My division manages dozens of vehicles. Half the city uses companies connected to our shipping operations. Are you seriously accusing me of kidnapping my own niece?"
"I'm asking questions."
"No. You're looking at me as if I'm a stranger."
"Then give me a reason not to."
Adrian's face turned cold.
For years, he had lived in his older brother's shadow. Lorenzo inherited their father's business, his contacts, and eventually his reputation. Adrian had been given a title, a salary, and the unspoken instruction to remain useful.
Now Lorenzo had a daughter.
An heir.
A reason to protect the empire that had once belonged to both brothers.
"You know what our father used to say?" Adrian asked quietly. "He said power makes men paranoid. Eventually, they start looking for enemies in their own homes."
"Our father is dead."
"And perhaps that should remind you that family is all we have left."
Lorenzo's expression hardened.
"Leave."
Adrian looked at him in disbelief.
"You're throwing me out?"
"I'm asking you to leave before I stop asking."
Adrian's eyes flicked toward Victor.
"This is a mistake."
"Then prove it."
Adrian walked toward the door, but he stopped before reaching it.
"When Sophia was born, I promised our mother I'd protect her. You know that."
Lorenzo's face changed at the mention of their mother.
She had died when Lorenzo was nineteen and Adrian was twelve. Her final years had been filled with fear, illness, and the growing violence of their father's business.
Adrian had been the one person Lorenzo had promised never to abandon.
Now he watched his younger brother leave without looking back.
***
Upstairs, Elena sat beside Sophia's bed.
The baby was sleeping under a soft blanket, an oxygen monitor clipped to one tiny foot.
Dr. Bennett had assured Elena that Sophia was responding well to treatment.
Still, every time the monitor changed rhythm, Elena looked up.
She had no reason to remain.
Lorenzo had offered to arrange a car to take her home, but she had asked to stay until the doctor confirmed Sophia was safe.
When Lorenzo entered, he found her carefully folding a blanket that did not need folding.
"You can go home," he said.
Elena glanced at him.
"I don't have much of a home to go back to."
He paused.
"Your apartment?"
"I've lost my job. My rent is due in three days. I suppose I'll figure something out."
"You saved my daughter."
"I brought her to you. That's all."
"That isn't all."
She looked at Sophia.
"She's all that matters right now."
Lorenzo studied her for a moment.
Then he asked, "Do you have family?"
Elena's hands stopped moving.
"No."
"Anyone who can help you?"
"No."
He understood the silence that followed.
"Stay here tonight," he said. "We can discuss everything else tomorrow."
"I don't want charity."
"Good. I don't offer it."
"Then what are you offering?"
"A job."
She frowned.
"Doing what?"
"Being near Sophia while she recovers. You seem to have a talent for making her feel safe."
Elena looked toward the crib.
"I don't know anything about caring for a wealthy man's daughter."
"You know how to care about her. We can hire people to teach you the rest."
She hesitated.
"And if I say no?"
"Then I'll have a driver take you wherever you want to go."
No threat. No demand.
For the first time, Elena saw a choice in front of her.
"I'll stay until she's better," she said.
Lorenzo nodded.
"That's all I'm asking."
He started toward the door, then stopped.
"One more thing. When you found Sophia, did you notice anything unusual about the shawl?"
Elena thought carefully.
"There was a smell. Something sharp, like expensive perfume. And I remember a small tear near the edge."
"Anything else?"
She closed her eyes, replaying the moment.
"Yes. There was a dark stain on the inside. I thought it was dirt."
Lorenzo's expression changed.
"What kind of stain?"
"I'm not sure."
He immediately called Victor.
"Get the shawl from the evidence bag. Have it examined."
Elena looked up.
"Why?"
Lorenzo stared toward the darkened window.
"Because my wife wore that perfume."
His wife, Isabella, had died six months before Sophia was born.
May you like
And the shawl Elena had found in the dumpster had belonged to her.
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