Chapter 2 - The Name on the Birth Certificate
Damian did not sleep that night.
At 3:17 a.m., he was still sitting behind his desk, staring at the photograph Enzo had placed in front of him.
Isabelle was wearing a cream-colored sweater. One hand rested protectively against her stomach. Her hair was pulled behind her ears, and she was smiling at something Elena had apparently said.
She looked happy.
Not frightened. Not guilty. Not like a woman secretly selling information to his enemies.
She looked like his wife.
And Damian had thrown her away.
“There's something else,” Enzo said.
Damian slowly raised his eyes.
“Then say it.”
Enzo placed another document on the desk.
It was a certified birth record.
Child: Lily Isabelle Parker.
Date of Birth: October 14.
Mother: Elena Parker.
The father section was blank.
Damian read it twice.
“Isabelle.”
Enzo nodded.
“Elena used her middle name.”
“Why?”
“We don't know.”
Damian stood so abruptly his chair struck the wall.
“Find out.”
“I've been trying. The clinic's former director died last year. Most of the original files were destroyed in a building flood.”
“Then find someone who remembers.”
Enzo hesitated.
“There is one more problem.”
Damian turned.
“Victor Hale requested access to the same clinic records yesterday.”
The room went silent.
Damian's expression hardened.
“Who authorized it?”
“The request came through the family foundation. It carried your digital approval.”
“I didn't approve anything.”
“I know.”
Damian looked down at the photograph again.
Someone had been using his authority.
Someone knew exactly what he was investigating.
And someone was already trying to get there first.
At eight the following morning, Damian found Elena in the kitchen preparing breakfast.
Lily sat at the island, swinging her little legs while eating strawberries.
“Mr. Bun wants pancakes,” she announced.
Damian looked at the stuffed rabbit.
“Does he?”
“He says you're too skinny.”
Elena gave her daughter a warning look.
“Lily.”
“What? He said it.”
Damian almost smiled.
Then he looked at Elena.
“Can we talk?”
Her fingers tightened around the coffee pot.
“Of course.”
“Alone.”
Elena glanced at Lily.
“Go color in the breakfast room, sweetheart.”
Lily grabbed her crayons.
“Can I draw a tattoo for Mister?”
“Not today.”
“Tomorrow?”
“We'll discuss it.”
Damian waited until the door closed.
Then he placed the photograph on the counter.
Elena went pale.
“You know her,” he said.
She didn't answer.
“You worked at the clinic where my wife received prenatal care.”
Elena looked toward the breakfast room.
“Please don't do this here.”
“Then tell me where.”
She slowly put down the coffee pot.
“Your study.”
Five minutes later, Elena stood in front of his desk.
Damian placed the birth certificate beside the photograph.
“Why is your daughter's middle name Isabelle?”
“Because I wanted her to have a beautiful name.”
“Don't insult me.”
Elena flinched.
Damian immediately regretted the sharpness in his voice, but the question had already escaped.
“Is Lily my daughter?”
Elena stared at him.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then she whispered, “Yes.”
The word landed harder than a bullet.
Damian gripped the edge of his desk.
“How long have you known?”
“Since before she was born.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your wife begged me not to.”
“My wife?”
Elena's eyes filled.
“Isabelle was alive when I last saw her.”
Damian felt the room tilt.
“What?”
“She came to me after you threw her out. She was pregnant, terrified, and convinced someone was watching her.”
“Why didn't she come to me?”
“Because she believed you had already chosen who to trust.”
Damian looked at the photograph.
“Did she know I thought she was dead?”
“She knew you thought she had betrayed you.”
“That isn't an answer.”
Elena wiped her cheek.
“She wanted to contact you. She wrote letters. Several of them. But every time she tried, something happened.”
“What happened?”
“Someone made sure she understood that coming back would put the baby in danger.”
Damian's voice dropped.
“Who?”
Elena looked toward the door.
Before she could answer, a small voice called from the hallway.
“Mister Damian?”
Lily appeared, holding a drawing.
“Look! I made us a family.”
Damian looked down.
Three stick figures stood beneath a crooked yellow sun.
One had long brown hair.
One had black hair and a white streak.
The smallest had a golden head and two enormous arms.
Lily pointed.
“That's Mommy. That's you. That's me.”
Damian's throat tightened.
“Why am I in your family?”
“Because you look lonely.”
He crouched in front of her.
“Lily, would you like me to be your daddy?”
Elena covered her mouth.
Lily considered the question seriously.
“Can you still be Mister Damian?”
“Yes.”
“Can you make pancakes?”
“I can learn.”
“Then maybe.”
For the first time in four years, Damian laughed without forcing himself.
But the moment shattered when Enzo entered.
He held a phone.
“Boss. We intercepted a call.”
“From whom?”
Enzo looked at Elena.
“Victor Hale.”
He played the recording.
Victor's voice filled the room.
“Get the girl out of Greystone before Damian confirms the blood test. If Isabelle's daughter is still alive, we have a much bigger problem than we thought.”
Damian slowly stood.
Then another voice came through the recording.
A woman's voice.
A voice he had heard in his dreams for four years.
“Don't touch my daughter, Victor.”
Damian stopped breathing.
May you like
It was Isabelle.
And she was alive.
