Chapter 3 - Someone Had Been Waiting for My Name
By sunrise, I hadn't slept.
Neither had Victor.
At 6:18 a.m., Carlo returned.
He closed the curtain.
Victor stood.
“Well?”
“The search came through an outside contractor with access to billing records.”
“Name.”
“Daniel Krell.”
Victor's face changed.
I noticed immediately.
“You know him.”
Victor didn't answer.
“Victor.”
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
“A financial investigator.”
“That doesn't sound dangerous.”
“He doesn't investigate finances for the government.”
Carlo added, “He sells information.”
“To whom?” I asked.
Victor and Carlo exchanged a look.
My anger rose.
“Don't do that.”
Victor frowned.
“Do what?”
“Decide what I can handle.”
He looked away.
Then back.
“Anthony Rizzo.”
I knew the name.
Everybody around Victor had.
“Your former partner.”
“Yes.”
“The man you threw out of the organization.”
“I didn't throw him out.”
Carlo's voice was flat.
“He tried to steal from Victor.”
Victor looked at him.
“Not helping.”
Carlo shrugged.
I stared at Victor.
“Why would Rizzo care about me?”
“Because hurting you hurts me.”
My stomach turned.
“And now he knows I'm pregnant.”
“We don't know that.”
“He accessed obstetrics.”
Victor had no answer.
I pulled the blanket higher.
“Five months.”
“What?”
“I stayed hidden for five months.”
Victor's face softened.
“You did.”
“And the first night I call you, someone finds me.”
He flinched.
The accusation landed exactly where I'd aimed it.
“Lena—”
“I knew this would happen.”
“I didn't lead anyone here.”
“But your world did.”
He stepped closer.
“And I'll fix it.”
“No.”
“What?”
“You don't get to fix this the old way.”
His expression became guarded.
“What old way?”
“The way that leaves me wondering what happened to someone after you walked out of a room.”
Carlo suddenly became fascinated by the floor.
Victor said, “I'm not discussing business with you.”
“Then get out.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You're throwing me out?”
“If protecting me requires becoming the reason I'm afraid, yes.”
Silence.
Then Carlo's phone vibrated.
He checked it.
“Victor.”
“What?”
“We found Krell.”
“Where?”
“Queens.”
“Alive?”
Carlo paused.
“Yes.”
I stared at Victor.
He understood immediately.
“Don't.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“Your face did.”
Victor turned toward Carlo.
“Police.”
Carlo blinked.
“What?”
“Give everything to the police.”
“Victor—”
“You heard me.”
Carlo stared at him as if he'd announced he was joining a monastery.
“We have evidence of unauthorized medical-record access?”
“Yes.”
“Then give it to them.”
Carlo nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
After he left, I watched Victor.
“You did that for me?”
“No.”
He looked toward my stomach.
“For both of you.”
A nurse entered.
“Ms. Moretti, we're ready for another ultrasound.”
Victor immediately stepped back.
The technician worked quietly.
I stared at the monitor.
“Heartbeat?”
“Right there.”
A rapid sound filled the room.
I started crying before I could stop myself.
Victor's hand appeared beside mine on the mattress.
He didn't touch me.
He waited.
I turned my palm upward.
He took it.
The technician smiled.
“She's moving.”
“Why can't I feel it?”
“Position, stress, and gestational age can all affect what you notice.”
I watched the tiny shape on the monitor.
Victor looked completely mesmerized.
“That's her hand?”
“Yes.”
“Five fingers?”
The technician smiled.
“Five.”
“And her heart?”
“Beating.”
Victor swallowed.
For a moment, he wasn't a Moretti.
He wasn't a boss.
He was just a man staring at his daughter.
Then the technician's smile faded slightly.
“I'll have the physician review these images.”
Fear returned.
“What's wrong?”
“I can't interpret the results.”
“Please.”
She squeezed my hand.
“The doctor will be right in.”
Victor waited until she left.
Then he stood.
“No.”
I looked at him.
“No what?”
“You're doing that thing.”
“What thing?”
“Preparing yourself for the worst.”
I laughed weakly.
“You've known me too long.”
“Not long enough.”
He sat beside me.
“I missed five months.”
“You didn't know.”
“I should've found you.”
“That sentence is not comforting.”
A tiny smile touched his face.
“Right.”
The doctor entered ten minutes later.
“The abruption appears stable.”
I exhaled.
“However, you're going to need significant changes.”
“What changes?”
“No overnight diner shifts. Regular prenatal appointments. Reduced physical stress. Proper nutrition. And someone needs to help monitor you.”
Victor looked at me.
I pointed at him.
“Don't.”
He closed his mouth.
The doctor looked between us.
“You two seem fun.”
“We're complicated,” I said.
“That's above my pay grade.”
She handed me instructions.
“We'd like to keep you another night.”
“Okay.”
After she left, Victor finally spoke.
“Come home.”
“No.”
“Lena—”
“No penthouse. No guards outside my bedroom. No driver reporting where I go.”
“Then tell me what you want.”
I stared at him.
That question was new.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“I want my own apartment.”
“Done.”
“Not yours.”
His jaw tightened.
“Fine.”
“I want to choose my doctor.”
“Fine.”
“I want to work again when the doctor says I can.”
“Fine.”
“And I want the truth about your life.”
That one hurt.
Victor became silent.
“All of it?”
“Enough to decide whether I want you in mine.”
He looked toward the rain-covered window.
Then back at me.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yes.”
I didn't trust how easily he'd said it.
Then his phone rang.
Victor checked the screen.
Carlo.
He answered.
“What?”
Carlo spoke loudly enough that I heard part of it.
“We found who paid Krell.”
Victor's face hardened.
“Rizzo?”
“No.”
A pause.
Victor's eyes slowly moved toward me.
“Then who?”
Carlo said the name.
And suddenly Victor looked more shocked than I had ever seen him.
“That's impossible.”
I sat up.
“Who is it?”
Victor lowered the phone.
His face had gone pale.
May you like
“Your brother.”
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