Chapter 2 - The Secret Lucas Died Protecting
The doctor arrived before two in the morning.
Claire had pneumonia.
Not severe enough for hospitalization, but serious enough that Dr. Russo refused to let her return to work.
“She needs antibiotics, fluids, and rest,” he told Damian.
Claire protested.
“I can’t stop working.”
Damian looked at her.
“You can.”
“I need the job.”
“You still have the job.”
Claire blinked.
“You’re not firing me?”
“Why would I?”
She looked toward Sophie.
“Because of everything.”
Damian leaned back against the wall.
“Your daughter being my niece makes firing you slightly complicated.”
Claire almost laughed.
Almost.
Then her face became serious.
“I never wanted your money.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“Lucas made me promise.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed.
“Promise what?”
Claire glanced toward Sophie, asleep in the adjoining room.
“To keep her away from the Romano family.”
That hurt more than Damian expected.
“My brother told you to hide his daughter from me?”
“He told me to hide her from everyone.”
“Why?”
Claire hesitated.
“Because someone in your family tried to kill him.”
Damian’s jaw tightened.
“Names.”
“He never gave me one.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I expect you to believe Lucas was terrified.”
Damian stared at her.
“My brother was afraid of very little.”
“He was afraid for Sophie.”
Claire opened a drawer beside the bed.
She removed a small photograph.
Lucas stood beside her outside a hospital.
His face was thinner than Damian remembered.
But unmistakably alive.
Damian took the photograph.
The date printed on the bottom corner was five years earlier.
His hands went still.
Lucas had survived.
And no one had told him.
Claire said quietly, “He was injured when I met him. Someone had moved him to the clinic under a false identity. He wouldn’t tell me who.”
“What happened afterward?”
“He recovered slowly. We became close.”
Damian looked at her.
“You loved him.”
“Yes.”
“And Sophie?”
Claire nodded.
“Lucas knew about the pregnancy.”
“Did he ever try to contact me?”
“Once.”
Damian looked up.
“What happened?”
“He came back shaking.”
“Lucas never shook.”
“He did that night.”
Claire’s eyes filled.
“He said someone had intercepted the message.”
Damian’s mind immediately began working.
“Who knew he was alive?”
“Very few people.”
“Names.”
“Me. The clinic doctor. A driver named Paolo.”
“Anyone else?”
Claire hesitated.
“One priest.”
Damian frowned.
“A priest?”
“Father Michael Donnelly.”
Damian knew the name.
Father Donnelly had served the Romano family for decades.
He had buried Lucas.
That realization struck hard.
“He buried an empty coffin.”
Claire nodded.
Damian turned away.
For years, he had stood beside Lucas’s grave every anniversary.
Spoken to him.
Apologized for failing to protect him.
All while Lucas had been alive.
“Why didn’t you come to me after Lucas died?”
“Because his last words were about Sophie.”
Damian turned.
“What did he say?”
Claire swallowed.
“He said, ‘Don’t trust the man closest to Damian.’”
Damian’s expression froze.
Closest.
There were only three possibilities.
Marco, his head of security.
Vincent, his uncle and senior adviser.
Or Anthony Vescari, the longtime family guard who had disappeared that evening.
“Anything else?”
“He told me to change my name and leave New York.”
“But you came back.”
“Three months ago.”
“Why?”
Claire looked toward Sophie’s room.
“I ran out of money.”
Damian almost objected.
Then he remembered she had been living above his carriage house.
Working in his kitchen.
Not once had she tried to approach him.
“You came into my house without telling me.”
“I thought it was safer than being somewhere alone.”
“Apparently you were wrong.”
A knock interrupted them.
Marco entered.
“We found Vescari’s room empty.”
“Evidence?”
“Burner phones. Cash. Multiple passports.”
Damian’s expression changed.
“And this.”
Marco placed an envelope on the table.
Damian opened it.
Inside was a photograph of Claire and Sophie.
Taken outside the carriage house.
A handwritten message covered the back.
SHE BROUGHT THE BLOODLINE BACK.
Claire stared at it.
“Oh God.”
Damian looked at Marco.
“Who else has seen this?”
“No one.”
“Keep it that way.”
Marco nodded.
Claire watched him carefully.
“Damian.”
It was the first time she used his first name.
He noticed.
“If Lucas was right…”
“I know.”
“The person he feared could still be close to you.”
Damian looked toward Marco.
Marco met his gaze without flinching.
Then Damian said, “From this moment forward, Sophie does not leave my security perimeter.”
Claire stiffened.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“Someone is hunting her.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“And my family.”
Claire pushed back the blanket.
“I protected her for four years without you.”
“You protected her until tonight.”
“That’s unfair.”
“It’s true.”
She stood.
Immediately, dizziness hit her.
Damian caught her.
Claire tried to pull away.
“Let go.”
“When you stop falling.”
“I’m not one of your employees right now.”
“No.”
His voice softened.
“You’re the mother of my niece.”
Their eyes met.
For a second, the argument disappeared.
Then Sophie entered.
“Mama?”
Claire immediately stepped away.
“What are you doing awake?”
“I heard yelling.”
“We weren’t yelling.”
Sophie looked at Damian.
“You were doing the quiet angry voice.”
Marco coughed.
Damian gave him a warning look.
Sophie walked toward Damian.
“Are you my uncle?”
Claire froze.
Damian crouched.
“Your mother told you?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
She pointed at the photograph.
“You look like Daddy.”
Damian’s chest tightened.
“Do you remember him?”
Sophie shook her head.
“Mama says Daddy went to heaven before I got big.”
Damian nodded slowly.
Sophie studied him.
“Did you love him?”
“Yes.”
“A lot?”
“More than anything.”
She considered that.
Then she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Damian went rigid.
Claire covered her mouth.
Sophie whispered, “Then you can miss him with us.”
For perhaps the first time in years, Damian Romano had no answer.
Marco’s phone buzzed.
He looked down.
His expression changed.
“Sir.”
Damian turned.
“What?”
“We found Vescari.”
“Where?”
“Dead.”
Claire went pale.
Marco continued.
“In his car beneath the Brooklyn Bridge.”
Damian stood.
“How?”
“Gunshot.”
“Suicide?”
Marco shook his head.
“No chance.”
A silence followed.
Then Marco added:
“There was something written on the windshield.”
Damian’s eyes hardened.
“What?”
Marco showed him the photograph.
May you like
Three words had been painted across the glass.
THE GIRL NEXT.
