Chapter 2 - The Question He Couldn't Ask
The elevator doors opened directly into Alfred Costello’s penthouse.
Mina stepped out alone.
Nobody had touched her.
That somehow frightened her more.
Lev had driven behind the cab she finally agreed to take, never coming closer than half a block. Alfred’s message had been clear: she could walk into the penthouse under her own power, or his men could make the decision for her.
She found him in the library.
The safe stood open.
The Persian rug had been rolled aside.
Her manila envelope lay on the desk.
Alfred stood beside the windows with his back to her, Boston glowing gray beneath the rain. He had removed his jacket. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms.
The ultrasound was in his hand.
Mina stopped.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Alfred turned.
She had seen him furious before.
She had watched him receive news that three million dollars had disappeared from a shipping account without changing expression. She had watched him discover a lieutenant had betrayed him and calmly finish his espresso before giving an order that made every man at the table go pale.
This was different.
He looked hurt.
That was worse.
“How far along?”
Mina's throat tightened.
“Alfred—”
“How far?”
“Fifteen weeks.”
His eyes dropped to the ultrasound.
“Twelve weeks here.”
“Yes.”
“So you knew for three weeks.”
“Longer.”
His jaw tightened.
“How much longer?”
“I found out at seven weeks.”
He stared at her.
Eight weeks.
She watched him calculate it.
Every breakfast.
Every late-night phone call.
Every time he'd touched her.
Every time he'd asked if she was all right.
“You lied to me for eight weeks.”
“I didn't lie.”
His eyes lifted.
“You hid my child in my safe and planned to disappear before sunrise.”
The words hit the room like a gunshot.
Mina looked toward the doorway.
Lev had vanished.
They were alone.
“Is it mine?”
Her face changed.
Alfred immediately regretted asking.
He saw it.
The pain wasn't theatrical. Mina didn't slap him or shout.
She simply became still.
“Yes.”
Alfred closed his eyes briefly.
“Mina—”
“Don't.”
“I shouldn't have asked.”
“No, you shouldn't.”
She crossed the room and reached for the envelope.
Alfred's hand came down over it.
“Why were you leaving?”
“You know why.”
“No. I don't.”
She laughed once, without humor.
“That might be the problem.”
“Mina.”
“Move your hand.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“Are you keeping me prisoner?”
Something dangerous flickered behind his eyes.
But his hand moved.
Mina took the envelope.
Alfred watched her put the ultrasound inside.
“You're carrying my child.”
“Yes.”
“And you were going to vanish under another name.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She finally snapped.
“Because I refuse to raise a baby who learns to identify armed men before learning the alphabet!”
Her voice echoed through the library.
Alfred froze.
Mina's breathing turned uneven.
“You think this is about money? It isn't. You think I wanted some mansion and a ring and your last name? I didn't. I wanted you to tell people I mattered.”
“You matter.”
“In locked rooms.”
His expression shifted.
“In this penthouse. After midnight. Behind doors. But downstairs? At dinner? Around your family? I'm the accountant.”
“Mina—”
“Two weeks ago, your uncle introduced me to somebody as ‘the girl who handles payroll.’ You stood three feet away.”
Alfred remembered.
He had said nothing.
“You never asked for anything.”
“That isn't the defense you think it is.”
Silence.
Mina looked at him with wet eyes.
“I could survive being your secret, Alfred.”
Her palm settled protectively over her abdomen.
“Our child won't.”
Something inside him cracked.
He crossed the room.
Mina stepped backward.
He stopped instantly.
The movement devastated him more than the accusation.
She was afraid of him.
Not because he'd hurt her.
Because she believed he might stop her from leaving.
“You can go,” he said.
She blinked.
Alfred looked toward the door.
“No one will stop you.”
Suspicion filled her face.
“Just like that?”
“No.”
He swallowed.
“Nothing about this is ‘just like that.’ But I'm not locking you inside my home.”
Mina stared at him.
Then she walked past.
At the doorway, Alfred spoke.
“I want to know my child.”
She stopped.
“I don't know if that's possible.”
“You don't get to decide that alone.”
“And you don't get to decide everything because people are scared of your name.”
She disappeared into the elevator.
Alfred stood motionless until the doors closed.
Then he looked down.
Something white lay beneath the desk.
A folded document had slipped from Mina's envelope.
He picked it up.
It wasn't medical paperwork.
It was a photocopy of a Costello shipping manifest.
Three containers.
Three dates.
Three payments.
And beside each payment was the same authorization code.
AC-01.
Alfred's personal authorization.
Except he had never approved them.
His phone rang.
Lev.
“Boss.”
“What?”
A pause.
Then:
“We found the ledger.”
Alfred looked at the forged authorization sheet.
“Where?”
“You're not going to like it.”
“Tell me.”
“It wasn't in your safe.”
Lev's voice lowered.
“It was in your uncle's office.”
Alfred slowly looked toward the closed elevator.
For the first time, he understood.
Mina hadn't only been running from him.
May you like
She had discovered something.
And somebody else might already know she had discovered it.
