Chapter 6 - THE CHILD IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
I couldn't stop staring at the little boy.
He had dark hair, pale eyes, and a small scar above his left eyebrow.
The resemblance to Alexander was unsettling.
“Who is he?” I asked.
Eleanor sat down slowly.
“His name is Daniel.”
“Is he Isabella's son?”
“Yes.”
“Who is his father?”
She looked at me.
“That's the question that destroyed this family.”
Rebecca immediately stepped forward.
“We need more than hints. If you have information, provide it.”
Eleanor nodded.
“Isabella discovered that the Moretti succession records had been altered. Several years before her disappearance, someone had changed the ownership of certain properties and redirected money through companies that did not exist.”
“Alexander?”
“No. His father.”
I frowned.
“Then why did Alexander hide Isabella?”
“Because she had evidence against his father. If she went public, the entire organization would have collapsed. Alexander arranged her disappearance to protect her and the child.”
“Why didn't he tell me?”
“Because he believed the secret was safer buried.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“And Sophia?”
Eleanor's mouth tightened.
“Sophia's father was involved in the same financial arrangement.”
Everything began connecting.
Sophia's sudden return.
The contract.
My father's trust.
Isabella's disappearance.
“Why did Sophia come back?”
“To obtain the documents Isabella left behind. Her family has been trying to recover them for years.”
I stared at Eleanor.
“Then why did Alexander remove his wedding ring?”
Eleanor didn't answer immediately.
Finally, she said, “Because Sophia had been told that Alexander was still available to marry her. His family wanted him to restore the old alliance.”
I felt my stomach turn.
“He knew.”
“He knew she expected him to return to her.”
“And he allowed it.”
Eleanor lowered her eyes.
“Yes.”
For the first time, I saw genuine shame on her face.
I stood.
“I'm done with this family.”
Eleanor reached for my hand.
“Claire, please. Alexander is not his father.”
I pulled away.
“Then he should have acted differently.”
That evening, Rebecca arranged for a security consultant to inspect my apartment.
We found nothing suspicious.
But when I returned from buying groceries, the front door was unlocked.
My handbag was on the floor.
The drawers had been emptied.
Someone had searched the apartment.
And on the kitchen counter sat a small white envelope.
Inside was a photograph of me leaving the hospital.
My face had been circled in red.
Beneath it was a handwritten message.
Give us the trust documents, or the baby won't be born safely.
I called Rebecca immediately.
She contacted the police.
Then I called Alexander.
He answered on the first ring.
“Claire?”
“Someone broke into my apartment.”
His voice changed instantly.
“Are you hurt?”
“No. But they left a threat.”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Get outside. Don't touch anything.”
I heard him giving orders to someone.
Within fifteen minutes, three black SUVs arrived.
Alexander stepped out of the first one.
He took one look at the broken apartment and his expression became terrifyingly calm.
“Who did this?”
“I don't know.”
He walked through the rooms with his security team.
Then he stopped beside the kitchen counter.
He picked up the photograph.
His face went pale.
“Where did you get this?”
“They left it.”
He turned it over.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he looked at me.
“Claire, we need to leave.”
“I'm not going anywhere with you.”
“Someone knows about the baby.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't understand.”
He stepped closer.
“The person who sent this isn't trying to frighten you into giving up the trust.”
“What are they trying to do?”
His eyes dropped to my stomach.
“They're trying to make sure your child never inherits it.”
Before I could respond, his phone rang.
He answered.
A man's voice came through the speaker.
“Boss, we found the person who entered the apartment.”
“Who?”
There was a pause.
Then the man said:
May you like
“It's Nathan.”
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