Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Knew My Daughter's Name
The payment authorization had been signed six weeks before Lily was born.
Six weeks.
I read the document three times, waiting for the words to rearrange themselves into something innocent.
They didn't.
"Samuel," I whispered, "what does infant transfer mean?"
"I don't know yet."
"Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying."
"Then tell me why my husband's signature is on a document that mentions my unborn child."
Samuel pulled a chair closer.
"The payment was routed through a private administrative company. It may have an innocent explanation."
"Such as?"
He didn't answer.
I felt Lily moving against my chest.
Her tiny mouth opened in a sleepy yawn.
I had never been so frightened in my life.
"Did Adrian sign this himself?"
"That's what we need to establish."
"Then establish it."
Samuel nodded.
"I will."
After he left, my mother read the document.
Her face changed before she reached the bottom.
"Mom?"
She folded the paper.
"Where did Samuel get this?"
"From the financial records."
"Does Adrian know?"
"Why?"
"Claire, listen carefully. Don't show this to anyone else."
I stared at her.
"You recognize something."
She shook her head.
"Mom."
"Not here."
It was the second time in twenty-four hours she'd refused to explain herself.
And I was beginning to wonder whether my mother knew more about the Moretti family than she'd ever admitted.
That afternoon, Adrian arrived at Samuel's office.
Alone.
No bodyguards.
No threats.
No expensive gifts.
Just a man who looked as though he hadn't slept.
Samuel made him wait twenty minutes.
Adrian didn't complain.
When he finally entered the conference room, he found a copy of the divorce petition on the table.
"Where is Claire?" Adrian asked.
"Recovering from childbirth."
"I know that."
"Then perhaps you should let her."
Adrian sat.
"I want to see my daughter."
"That will have to be addressed through appropriate legal arrangements."
"I'm her father."
"Yes. You are."
Adrian leaned forward.
"Then why is everyone acting like I'm a stranger?"
Samuel looked at him for a long moment.
"Mr. Moretti, how many prenatal appointments did you attend?"
Adrian's jaw tightened.
"That's irrelevant."
"How many?"
Silence.
"Did you attend the twenty-week ultrasound?"
"No."
"The additional examination at seven months?"
"No."
"Did you know Claire was experiencing severe anxiety about the baby's position?"
Adrian looked away.
Samuel slid a calendar across the table.
Every appointment marked.
Every date recorded.
Beside each was a short note.
Attended alone.
Husband unavailable.
Husband declined.
Adrian stared at the page.
"She kept track?"
"She stopped expecting you to show up. She didn't stop hoping."
Adrian's throat moved.
Samuel continued.
"You can request a parenting arrangement through the court. But you cannot force your way into Claire's hospital room, and you cannot purchase your way into her forgiveness."
"I don't want to purchase anything."
"Then start by respecting what she asked."
Adrian stood.
At the door, he paused.
"What's her name?"
Samuel's expression softened slightly.
"Lily."
Adrian closed his eyes.
"Lily."
"Her name is Lily Eleanor Bennett."
The surname struck harder than the divorce papers.
He gripped the doorframe.
Then walked out without another word.
Sophia Reynolds was waiting in Adrian's office when he returned.
She wore a pale blue silk dress and carried a designer handbag he'd bought her in Paris.
"I've been calling you all morning."
Adrian walked past her.
"Where's Vincent?"
"Why?"
"Answer me."
She crossed her arms.
"You're being rude."
Adrian turned.
"My wife gave birth yesterday."
Sophia's expression tightened.
"And?"
"And somebody sent me a photograph taken inside her hospital room."
"That's terrible."
"Somebody accessed her legal documents."
"Adrian—"
"And somebody is using my companies to move money I didn't authorize."
Sophia went still.
He watched her.
"Do you know anything about that?"
"No."
"Think carefully."
"I said no."
Adrian stepped closer.
"Then explain why your penthouse purchase involved Northbridge Holdings."
She blinked.
"Vincent handled the paperwork."
"Why?"
"Because you were busy."
Adrian laughed once.
There was nothing amused about it.
"Busy."
Sophia's eyes flashed.
"Don't you dare make me the villain because Claire decided to punish you."
"Claire didn't punish me."
"She barred you from your own child's birth!"
"Because I wasn't there for the pregnancy."
Sophia stared at him.
For the first time, she seemed to realize the man standing in front of her wasn't going to defend her.
"You told me you didn't love her anymore," she said.
Adrian didn't answer.
"You said the marriage was over."
"I said things I shouldn't have."
Sophia's face hardened.
"Then you should be very careful about what you say next."
She picked up her handbag and walked out.
Adrian watched her leave.
Then he called Daniel.
"Follow her."
Two days later, I was discharged from the hospital.
My mother drove.
Lily slept in a car seat beside me.
For the first time in months, I wasn't going back to Adrian's mansion.
We were going to my mother's house in Oak Park.
A small white home with blue shutters, a vegetable garden, and a porch swing my father had built before he died.
It wasn't luxurious.
It was safe.
Or so I thought.
When we arrived, a woman was waiting on the porch.
She looked about sixty, with short silver hair and a dark wool coat.
My mother stopped walking.
The woman stood.
"Eleanor."
My mother's voice was barely audible.
"Margaret."
I looked between them.
"Who is this?"
The stranger's eyes moved toward Lily.
And suddenly, she began to cry.
"Oh, God," she whispered. "She looks just like him."
"Like who?" I demanded.
Margaret reached into her coat and removed an old photograph.
It showed my mother as a young woman standing beside a handsome man in a dark suit.
A man with Adrian's unmistakable eyes.
But the man wasn't Adrian.
And he wasn't his father.
Margaret looked directly at me.
"Claire, there's something you need to know about the family you married into."
My mother grabbed her wrist.
"Don't."
Margaret pulled away.
"She deserves the truth."
Then she said the words that changed everything.
"Your father didn't die in an accident, Claire."
May you like
"He was murdered."
"And the order came from inside the Moretti family."
