Chapter 7 - Sophia's Final Lie
I watched the recording six times.
Every time, the same details became clearer.
Sophia had entered my house before Claire signed the divorce papers. She had carried a hospital file. She had spoken privately with my father.
And Claire had begged someone not to tell me something.
I called Michael.
"Find Sophia."
"She's not at her apartment."
"Where is she?"
"Her phone was switched off two hours ago. Her assistant says she left Chicago."
"Find her."
"There's something else, sir."
I closed the video.
"What?"
"We accessed the storage drive. There are several recordings. One is from your father's office, dated two days before your divorce."
"Play it."
Michael sent the file.
The video showed my father sitting behind his desk. Sophia was opposite him.
"Claire is pregnant," Sophia said.
My father didn't look surprised.
"How far along?"
"Almost three months."
"And Alexander?"
"He doesn't know."
My father leaned back.
"Then he must never find out."
Sophia shifted uncomfortably.
"What if Claire tells him?"
"She won't."
"How can you be certain?"
My father opened a folder.
"Because by the time she leaves, she'll have every reason to believe Alexander never wants to see her again."
Sophia lowered her eyes.
"And the children?"
"Once they're born, we'll make sure they remain outside the family."
I gripped my desk.
The recording continued.
Sophia asked, "What about the warning?"
My father smiled.
"Send it after she leaves. Make it convincing."
"Do you really think she'll stay away?"
"Every mother will protect her children. Even if she has to disappear."
The video ended.
I stared at the screen.
My father had deliberately created the circumstances that kept me away from my children.
But Sophia had helped him.
She had known.
She had watched me destroy my marriage while carrying information that could have changed everything.
And she had said nothing.
I called her again.
This time, she answered.
"Alexander?"
"Where are you?"
A pause.
"At home."
"Don't lie to me."
Her breathing changed.
"I don't know what you've heard—"
"I watched the recording."
Silence.
"How much did you see?"
"Enough."
She began crying.
"Alexander, please."
"Did you know Claire was pregnant?"
"Yes."
"Did you know my father threatened her?"
"Yes."
I closed my eyes.
"Why?"
"I was trying to protect you."
I laughed once.
It sounded nothing like laughter.
"Protect me from what? My own children?"
"Vincent told me that if Claire gave birth, she would use the pregnancy to take control of your company."
"She never wanted my company!"
"That's what he said."
"And you believed him?"
Sophia started sobbing.
"I was in love with you."
I stared at the wall.
"You were in love with the idea of being Mrs. Moretti."
"That's not true."
"You knew I was married. You knew Claire was suffering. You watched me hand her $150 million and walk away. Then you let me believe she had chosen to keep the children from me."
"I thought you would eventually forget her."
I felt sick.
"Forget her?"
Sophia's voice dropped.
"Alexander, you need to understand something. I didn't expect you to find out. Vincent promised that Claire would leave Chicago permanently. He said everything would be settled."
"Where is my father now?"
"I don't know."
"You're lying again."
"Please, Alexander. I can help you."
"Then tell me where he keeps the original documents."
She went quiet.
Finally, she whispered an address.
A private estate outside the city.
"Alexander, there's something else."
I waited.
"Vincent has a recording of Claire."
"What recording?"
"Something she said before the divorce."
"Where is it?"
"I don't know. But he told me it would destroy her if you ever heard it."
I ended the call.
The following afternoon, Emma underwent her procedure.
I waited outside the operating room with Claire and Daniel.
Claire hadn't spoken to me much that morning.
She was holding a small bracelet Emma had worn since infancy.
I noticed her fingers trembling.
"She'll be okay," I said.
Claire didn't look at me.
"You don't know that."
"No. But the doctors are good."
She nodded.
Then she whispered something that made my chest tighten.
"I promised her I'd never let her be scared."
I sat beside her.
"You're a wonderful mother."
Her eyes filled.
"Don't."
"I'm not trying to—"
"Please don't make me remember the person I thought you were."
I looked down.
The operating room doors remained closed.
After three hours, the surgeon finally emerged.
"Mrs. Hayes?"
Claire stood so quickly that her chair fell backward.
"How is my daughter?"
The surgeon smiled.
"The procedure went well. She's stable, and we expect a good recovery."
Claire covered her face.
I caught her elbow as her knees weakened.
For one brief second, she leaned against me.
Then she realized what she was doing and stepped away.
But I didn't forget that moment.
It was the first time she had touched me since our divorce.
And it reminded me of how much I had lost.
That evening, Emma woke up.
Claire went to her bedside first.
Oliver followed, carrying a drawing.
I remained near the door.
Emma looked around sleepily.
"Mommy?"
"I'm here, sweetheart."
Then she saw me.
"The serious man."
I smiled faintly.
"Hello, Emma."
She looked at the stuffed rabbit beside her pillow.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
She studied me.
"Are you staying?"
I looked at Claire.
She didn't answer.
So I turned back to Emma.
"If your mommy says it's okay."
Emma smiled.
"Mommy?"
Claire looked at her daughter.
Then at me.
"Just for a little while."
I pulled a chair beside the bed.
Emma held out her tiny hand.
I took it carefully.
Her fingers wrapped around mine.
And for the first time, my daughter fell asleep holding her father's hand.
I didn't move for three hours.
Not once.
But while I was sitting there, Michael sent another message.
He had accessed the original documents from my father's estate.
One file contained a photograph of my mother holding a newborn baby.
On the back, someone had written:
The second Moretti heir. Never tell Alexander.
I stared at the photograph.
The baby wasn't Oliver.
It wasn't Emma.
And the date was six months before my mother supposedly died.
I looked at the name on the document.
Beneficiary: Unknown child of Vincent Moretti.
May you like
My father had another child.
And somehow, my mother had known.
