Chapter 2 - FIVE YEARS OLD“How old are they?”
Elena did not answer.
She stood with one hand gripping the back of the chair and the other held slightly behind her, as though she could shield three children from Dominic Moretti with nothing but her body.
Dominic had faced armed men without blinking.
He had stood inside burning warehouses, watched enemies bleed across polished concrete, and listened to federal investigators describe prison sentences intended to bury him alive.
None of that had prepared him for Elena’s silence.
The serious boy—Caleb—looked at his mother.
“We’re five.”
Elena closed her eyes.
The restaurant did not become quieter, but Dominic stopped hearing it.
Five.
He counted backward despite already knowing the answer.
Five years ago, Elena had disappeared in January.
Five years ago, she had signed divorce papers that arrived through a lawyer Dominic had never met.
Five years ago, she had written a single sentence beneath her signature.
I cannot live this life anymore.
Dominic had read those words until the paper softened beneath his fingers.
He had believed she hated his world more than she loved him.
Now three five-year-old children were watching him.
“Birthday?” he asked.
Elena’s mouth tightened.
“Dominic.”
“What date?”
Caleb looked between them again.
“January twenty-third.”
Dominic felt something cold move through his chest.
Elena had disappeared on January fifth.
Eighteen days before their birth.
Gabriel Russo stepped closer but remained several feet away. He knew better than to interrupt Dominic when his voice became quiet.
Quiet was when Dominic was most dangerous.
Except Dominic did not feel dangerous now.
He felt hollow.
“You were pregnant,” he said.
Elena glanced toward the surrounding diners.
“Please lower your voice.”
“You were carrying my children when you left.”
Sophie’s eyes widened.
Noah stopped holding his fork.
Caleb stared at Dominic with the rigid concentration of a child trying to understand an adult truth before anyone could soften it.
Elena’s face changed.
“Not in front of them.”
Dominic leaned closer.
“You had five years to choose a better place.”
Pain flashed in her eyes.
Then Sophie asked the question none of the adults were prepared to answer.
“Are you our dad?”
Elena went completely still.
Dominic looked down at the little girl.
She wore a pink ribbon that had begun slipping from her curls. A faint stain of tomato sauce marked one sleeve of her cardigan.
His daughter.
The word had no right to feel so natural when he had known her for less than a minute.
He crouched so they were eye level.
Elena immediately reached toward Sophie.
Dominic stopped before coming any closer.
He did not touch the child.
He did not know whether he was allowed.
“I think I may be,” he said.
Elena’s gaze snapped toward him.
Caleb frowned.
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
“Mom knows.”
Dominic looked at Elena.
“Yes,” she whispered. “You are their father.”
The truth did not arrive gently.
It tore through five years of anger and grief, leaving nothing untouched.
Dominic stood.
Gabriel glanced toward the security men, expecting an order.
Dominic gave none.
He could not decide whether he wanted to pull Elena into his arms or demand that every exit be locked until she explained how she had stolen five years from him.
The children’s presence made both impulses impossible.
“Mommy,” Noah said softly, “why didn’t you tell us?”
Elena crouched beside him.
“I was going to.”
“When?”
Her expression broke.
“I don’t know.”
Caleb pushed his plate away.
“You said our dad lived far away.”
“I know.”
“You said he didn’t know where we were.”
“That was true.”
Dominic nearly laughed at the cruelty of the distinction.
He had not known where they were because Elena had made certain he could not find them.
Or someone had.
He studied her more carefully.
Elena had changed, but not only through exhaustion.
A pale scar disappeared beneath the sleeve of her cardigan.
She kept checking the restaurant entrance.
Her purse remained looped around one wrist as though she expected to leave without warning.
This was not the posture of a woman who had simply abandoned an unhappy marriage.
It was the posture of someone who had been running.
“Who are you afraid of?” Dominic asked.
Elena’s face closed.
“No one.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
A waiter approached hesitantly.
“Ma’am, is everything all right?”
Elena stood.
“Yes. We were just leaving.”
Dominic blocked the aisle without touching her.
“You are not disappearing again.”
The children heard the threat in his voice.
Sophie moved closer to Elena.
Dominic saw it and stepped aside immediately.
That action seemed to surprise Elena.
“Where are you staying?” he asked.
“I’m not telling you.”
“Do you believe I would hurt them?”
“I believe you would take them.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“They are my children.”
“They are not property.”
“I did not say they were.”
“You don’t have to. I know how Moretti men think.”
The accusation landed deeper than she knew.
His father had treated his family as possessions. His grandfather had negotiated marriages and inheritances as if blood could be entered into company ledgers.
Dominic had spent years swearing he was different.
Then he had built an empire where every employee, ally, and relative obeyed because disobedience carried consequences.
Perhaps Elena had never seen a meaningful difference.
Gabriel quietly approached the manager and arranged for the private dining room to be cleared.
Dominic looked at Elena.
“Ten minutes.”
“No.”
“You tell me why you left, and then you choose whether to walk out.”
“I already chose.”
“Five years ago, under circumstances I no longer understand.”
She glanced toward the children.
Caleb had begun collecting the crayons from the table, placing them neatly into a paper cup. Noah watched the adults with worried eyes. Sophie held Elena’s cardigan in one small fist.
Dominic lowered his voice.
“They deserve an explanation too.”
“They deserve dinner without armed men watching them.”
Dominic looked toward his security detail.
He raised two fingers.
The men moved out of sight.
“They are gone.”
“They are still in the building.”
“Yes.”
“Exactly.”
He wanted to argue.
Instead, he looked at Caleb.
The boy had noticed everything.
Dominic recognized that habit. As a child, he had counted doors, measured adult moods, and learned which footsteps meant anger was approaching.
No child should have needed those skills.
“Gabriel,” Dominic said.
His consigliere stepped forward.
“Have the private room prepared. No security inside. No staff unless Elena requests them.”
Gabriel nodded.
Dominic returned his attention to Elena.
“You keep your phone. You sit closest to the door. The children stay with you. Ten minutes.”
“You don’t negotiate. You issue orders.”
“I’m trying.”
Something in his answer reached her.
Not enough to create trust.
Enough to create hesitation.
Elena looked at the children.
“Would you like dessert in the private room?”
Sophie nodded.
Noah asked whether there would be chocolate cake.
Caleb said nothing.
Elena finally agreed.
The private room contained a round table, a fireplace, and tall windows facing the river. Gabriel remained outside.
Elena placed the children on one side of the table and sat between them and Dominic.
A waiter brought chocolate cake, vanilla ice cream, and coffee before leaving.
Dominic did not touch his cup.
Caleb spoke first.
“Are you rich?”
Elena closed her eyes.
Dominic answered.
“Yes.”
“How rich?”
“Caleb.”
“What? Ben at school says his dad is rich because they have two televisions.”
Dominic almost smiled.
“I have more than two televisions.”
“Do you live in a castle?”
“No.”
Gabriel, listening outside, would have disagreed. Dominic’s estate north of the city had twenty-two rooms, a stone gatehouse, and enough security to survive a siege.
Sophie studied his suit.
“Do you have kids?”
Dominic’s throat tightened.
“I didn’t know that I did.”
Noah pushed part of his cake toward Dominic.
“You can have some.”
Dominic looked at Elena.
She gave the smallest nod.
He accepted the plate.
“Thank you.”
Noah smiled.
It was the first gift his son had ever given him.
A half-eaten piece of cake with fingerprints in the frosting.
Dominic would have purchased the restaurant to preserve it if Elena had not been watching.
Caleb remained suspicious.
“If you’re our dad, why weren’t you there?”
Elena’s hand froze beside her coffee.
Dominic answered slowly.
“Because I did not know you existed.”
“Why?”
“That is something your mother and I need to discuss.”
“Did she hide us?”
Elena inhaled sharply.
Dominic looked directly at Caleb.
“She kept you safe.”
Elena stared at him.
Caleb considered the answer.
“From what?”
“That is another question for later.”
Caleb did not appear satisfied, but he returned to his dessert.
Dominic looked at Elena.
“Now tell me.”
She checked the children.
Sophie and Noah were sharing ice cream. Caleb listened despite pretending not to.
Elena lowered her voice.
“The night before I left, I heard you order someone killed.”
Dominic did not react.
“Who?”
“My brother.”
The answer surprised him.
“Ethan?”
“You were in your father’s old office. You were speaking to Gabriel.”
Dominic remembered the night.
Ethan Bennett had worked as an accountant for a Moretti-controlled freight company. He had disappeared after uncovering missing funds.
Dominic had been told Ethan stole three million dollars and fled to South America.
Elena continued.
“You said Ethan had become a liability. You said he knew enough to destroy the family.”
“That part is true.”
“And then you said he needed to disappear before sunrise.”
Dominic looked toward the closed door.
Gabriel stood beyond it.
“I did say that.”
Elena went pale, as though some part of her had hoped he would deny everything.
“I meant he needed to be moved to a protected location.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Ethan found evidence that someone inside my organization was trafficking weapons through our shipping routes. I believed he had been compromised.”
“You never told me.”
“He asked me not to.”
“My brother asked you to hide him from me?”
“He believed you were being watched.”
Elena shook her head.
“No.”
“He contacted me three days after you disappeared.”
Her face lost all color.
“That’s impossible.”
“He was alive.”
“Was?”
Dominic hesitated.
“His safe location was attacked. We found blood but no body.”
Elena stared at him.
“My mother told me Ethan was dead.”
Dominic’s instincts sharpened.
“Your mother?”
“She came to my apartment the morning after I heard you. She showed me photographs.”
“What photographs?”
“Ethan in a warehouse. Blood on the floor. Gabriel standing beside him.”
Dominic’s gaze shifted toward the door.
Gabriel had never told him Elena saw those images.
“She said you discovered I was pregnant,” Elena continued. “She said the children would become leverage against you. She said your father’s people had already arranged for me to lose them.”
“My father had been dead for two years.”
“His people were still loyal to the family.”
“Which people?”
Elena looked down.
“Your aunt.”
Dominic became completely still.
“Vittoria?”
Elena nodded.
Vittoria Moretti was his father’s younger sister.
She had managed family accounts for decades. She had comforted Dominic after Elena vanished. She had told him Elena left voluntarily. She had produced photographs showing Elena boarding a plane with another man.
Dominic had believed the images.
The man had been identified as an old college boyfriend.
“What exactly did Vittoria tell you?” he asked.
“That Moretti wives were replaceable. Moretti heirs were not.”
Dominic’s hand tightened around the untouched coffee cup.
“She said you would take the babies after they were born and make certain I could never contact them.”
“I would never have done that.”
“I know that now.”
He looked at her.
“What changed?”
“I saw you tonight.”
“That was enough?”
“You looked at them like you had been wounded.”
The simple truth almost destroyed his composure.
Elena continued.
“I was supposed to leave Chicago for one week. My mother arranged a house in Wisconsin. She said Ethan would meet me there.”
“He didn’t.”
“No. Vittoria came instead. She said Ethan had been killed and you were searching for me.”
“I was.”
“She said you wanted to prevent me from testifying.”
“You were my wife.”
“In your world, that did not protect me.”
Dominic could not deny it completely.
His mother had died in what police called an accident. His father’s first wife had vanished from public life after challenging the family. Women connected to Moretti men survived by obeying, leaving, or learning to become as cold as the men beside them.
Elena had been twenty-seven and carrying triplets.
Fear had done the rest.
“Why didn’t you contact me later?”
“Every time I tried, something happened.”
“What?”
“The first lawyer I hired disappeared.”
Dominic leaned forward.
“Name.”
“Melissa Grant.”
He knew the name. Melissa Grant had died in a car crash five years earlier.
“The second lawyer called me the next morning and said he could not represent me. Someone had sent him photographs of his daughter.”
Dominic’s anger became colder.
“Elena, where have you been?”
“Madison first. Then Minneapolis. Then Indianapolis. I changed names when I needed to.”
“And now?”
“My mother became ill. I came back six months ago to care for her.”
“Does Vittoria know?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You work here?”
“Three nights a week. I handle the restaurant’s event accounts and help when they’re short-staffed.”
A Moretti ex-wife working dinner shifts within miles of Dominic’s tower.
The humiliation did not belong to her.
It belonged to every man he employed to find her.
“Where is your mother?”
“At Northwestern Memorial.”
“What illness?”
“Heart failure.”
“Did she know the children were mine?”
“Yes.”
“Did she help hide them?”
Elena’s eyes hardened.
“She believed she was saving us.”
“By trusting Vittoria.”
“She trusted your aunt more than she trusted you.”
The truth was brutal.
Before Dominic could respond, his phone vibrated.
Gabriel had sent a message.
MERCER NEVER PLANNED TO ATTEND. MEETING WAS A SETUP. SOMEONE KNEW ELENA WOULD BE HERE.
Dominic reread it.
Senator Mercer had requested dinner at Bellini’s.
The manager had placed Dominic’s room along a path passing Elena’s table.
This reunion had not been accidental.
Someone wanted Dominic to discover Elena and the children tonight.
He looked toward the windows.
Across the river, a flash appeared from the roof of a parking structure.
Dominic moved before thought caught up.
He overturned the table and pulled Elena and the children down.
The window shattered.
A bullet struck the wall behind Dominic’s chair.
The children screamed.
Gabriel and security men rushed into the room.
Dominic covered Sophie and Noah while Elena shielded Caleb.
A second bullet hit the stone fireplace.
“Back corridor,” Gabriel ordered.
Dominic lifted Sophie.
Elena reached for her.
“I have her,” he said.
For one second, she hesitated.
Then another shot tore through the window.
They ran.
Caleb held Elena’s hand. Gabriel carried Noah. Dominic kept Sophie against his chest, feeling her small body shake.
At the service exit, an armored vehicle waited.
They climbed inside.
Dominic counted automatically.
Elena.
Caleb.
Noah.
Sophie.
Gabriel.
Everyone alive.
Sophie had wrapped both arms around his neck.
She did not let go when the vehicle began moving.
Dominic looked at Elena across the dark interior.
“This was arranged.”
“What?”
“Someone brought me to that restaurant knowing you would be there.”
Fear filled her face.
“Vittoria?”
“I don’t know.”
Gabriel received a call from the security team.
The shooter had escaped.
But police found something on the rooftop.
A photograph.
It showed Elena leaving a maternity hospital five years earlier carrying three infant seats.
Written across the image were six words.
THE CHILDREN BELONG TO THE MORETTI FAMILY.
Dominic read the message.
Then he looked at his sons and daughter.
For five years, someone had hidden them from him.
Now that he had found them, someone else intended to claim them.
And Dominic knew exactly where the first answers would be waiting.
May you like
At the home of the woman who had comforted him through Elena’s disappearance.
His aunt Vittoria.
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