Alessandro didn’t follow me home.
That should have relieved me.
Instead, I spent the entire night waiting for headlights outside Liam’s apartment.
At two in the morning, Liam found me sitting at the kitchen table with my father’s old storage box open in front of me.
“You told him.”
“He asked.”
“You could’ve lied.”
“I’m tired of lying.”
That wasn’t completely true.
I was tired of lying to Alessandro.
There was a difference.
Liam pulled out a chair.
“What did Victor do?”
“He knew my mother.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
I removed a manila folder.
Daniel Mercer had been a forensic accountant.
Not glamorous.
Not powerful.
He had spent most of my childhood at a dining room table surrounded by spreadsheets, tax documents, and yellow legal pads.
When I was fifteen, he began consulting for a firm called Northlake Advisory.
Two years later, he discovered a series of shell companies moving millions through Chicago real estate developments.
One company appeared repeatedly.
Vitali Urban Holdings.
My father suspected someone inside the corporation was laundering money through inflated construction contracts.
Three weeks before he died, he told my mother he had proof.
That proof disappeared.
Or so everyone believed.
After Mom’s death, Liam and I searched everything.
We found only fragments.
A flash drive that wouldn’t open.
Several coded notes.
A photograph from a fundraising dinner.
And one handwritten line.
V.V. knows.
For years, I assumed V.V. meant Victor Vitali.
Now I knew Victor had recognized my mother’s name.
“Maybe ‘knows’ didn’t mean involved,” Liam said.
I stared at him.
“You’ve been saying that for eight years.”
“Because your father could have meant Victor knew what was happening.”
“And did nothing.”
“Or tried to stop it.”
“Then why are my parents dead?”
Liam had no answer.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
We both stared.
“Don’t,” Liam said.
I answered.
“Hello?”
“Elizabeth.”
Alessandro.
Hearing my real name in his voice made something twist inside me.
“How did you get this number?”
“Marcus.”
“Of course.”
“I told him not to contact you.”
“You contacted me.”
“I’m not Marcus.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
“What do you want?”
“The truth.”
“You first.”
A pause.
“Fair.”
His tone changed.
“My father admitted he knew Daniel Mercer.”
I stood.
Liam’s eyes widened.
“What did he say?”
“Not over the phone.”
“No.”
“Elizabeth.”
“No private penthouse. No hotel. No estate.”
“Choose the place.”
I looked toward Liam.
He mouthed, Police station.
I ignored him.
“Grant Park. Tomorrow. Noon.”
“I’ll be there.”
“And Alessandro?”
“Yes?”
“Come alone.”
“I will.”
The next day was bitterly cold.
Alessandro arrived exactly at noon.
No visible security.
No overcoat entourage.
No Marcus.
Just Alessandro in a dark wool coat, walking toward me beside the frozen lake.
He stopped several feet away.
“I came alone.”
“I noticed.”
“My father knew yours.”
My throat tightened.
“How?”
“In 2018, Daniel Mercer was hired to audit several companies connected to Vitali Urban Holdings.”
“I know.”
“What you don’t know is that my father hired him.”
That hit me hard.
“What?”
“Victor suspected one of our senior executives was stealing.”
“Who?”
“My uncle.”
I stared at him.
“Your uncle?”
“Matteo Vitali.”
I knew the name.
Matteo had been Victor’s younger brother.
He died three years ago in what newspapers called a boating accident.
Alessandro continued.
“My father believed Matteo was diverting corporate funds. He hired your father quietly because he didn’t trust our internal auditors.”
“Then why was my father killed?”
“Because he found more than theft.”
He handed me a folder.
Inside were copies of old bank transfers.
Construction companies.
Offshore accounts.
Political donations.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Matteo Vitali.
Another appeared beside several approvals.
Richard Kane.
I recognized it.
“Kane?”
“Former CFO.”
“He was at the gala.”
Alessandro’s eyes sharpened.
“You remember him?”
“I went there looking for him.”
That was the first time I admitted it.
Alessandro went still.
“You weren’t filling in by accident.”
“No.”
“You targeted that gala.”
“Yes.”
“And me?”
The question hurt.
“No.”
He searched my face.
“I didn’t know you’d speak to me.”
“But you knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
“Did you go upstairs because of my family?”
“No.”
The answer came so quickly he believed it.
Or wanted to.
“What happened between us had nothing to do with the investigation.”
His jaw relaxed slightly.
I looked back at the documents.
“What did my father find?”
“Matteo and Kane were moving money through city redevelopment projects. Bribes, inflated contracts, kickbacks.”
“Victor knew?”
“Parts of it.”
“Did he kill my father?”
“No.”
“You sound certain.”
“I am.”
“How can you be?”
“Because on the night Daniel Mercer died, my father was in Zurich undergoing emergency heart surgery.”
I stared at him.
“That proves he didn’t pull a trigger.”
“No. But there’s more.”
Alessandro removed another page.
A security report.
“My father sent two investigators to warn Daniel that Kane had discovered the audit.”
“What happened?”
“They arrived twenty minutes after the police.”
My hands began shaking.
“He knew my father was in danger.”
“Yes.”
“And didn’t protect us?”
Guilt crossed Alessandro’s face.
“He tried.”
“Not hard enough.”
“No.”
The honesty disarmed me.
I looked away toward the lake.
“My mother died three months later.”
“I know.”
I turned sharply.
“You know?”
“My father believes her crash wasn’t an accident.”
The ground seemed to shift.
“That’s impossible.”
“Elizabeth—”
“The police said she fell asleep.”
“Her brake line had been replaced four days earlier.”
My knees weakened.
Alessandro caught my elbow.
I jerked away.
“Don’t.”
He released me immediately.
For years, I had lived with a private suspicion.
Hearing it spoken aloud made it real.
“My mother was murdered.”
“We think so.”
“We?”
“My father has been investigating quietly for eight years.”
“Why didn’t he come to me?”
“Because you disappeared.”
“Good.”
“He thought you were dead.”
That stopped me.
“What?”
“After Sarah died, someone circulated a report that you were in the car with her.”
My mouth went dry.
“I wasn’t.”
“I know that now.”
Liam had insisted I leave Chicago after the funeral.
For six months, I lived with his aunt in Wisconsin.
When I returned, I used Emma Reed.
A name assembled from my middle name and my grandmother’s maiden name.
“My father believed whoever killed your parents might look for you.”
“So he let the world think I was dead.”
“Maybe that saved you.”
I hated the possibility.
I looked at Alessandro.
“What does Kane have to do with this now?”
“He’s still on the Vitali board.”
My blood went cold.
“You never knew?”
“I knew he was corrupt. I didn’t know how far back it went.”
“And your father kept him?”
“To watch him.”
“That sounds insane.”
“In my family, insane is sometimes a governance strategy.”
Despite everything, a laugh escaped me.
It vanished quickly.
Alessandro studied me.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Kane saw you at the gala.”
“So?”
“He asked Marcus who you were.”
My heartbeat accelerated.
“Did Marcus tell him?”
“No.”
“But Victor recognized me.”
“Yes.”
“If Kane learns who I am—”
“He probably already suspects.”
Fear swept through me.
Not only for myself.
My hand moved instinctively toward my stomach.
Alessandro noticed.
His eyes dropped.
I pulled my hand away.
Too late.
His expression changed.
“Are you sick?”
“No.”
“You’re pale.”
“I haven’t slept.”
He looked at me for several seconds.
Then he surprised me by changing the subject.
“You need protection.”
“No.”
“This isn’t negotiable.”
“It absolutely is.”
“Someone may have killed your parents.”
“Which is why I don’t want Vitali security following me.”
“Marcus is loyal to me.”
“I don’t know Marcus.”
“Then choose someone else.”
“I choose Liam.”
Alessandro’s jaw tightened.
“Your roommate?”
“My best friend.”
“The man who opened the door yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Does he know who you are?”
“Everything.”
Something almost like jealousy crossed his face.
“That’s convenient.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re thinking loudly.”
He looked away.
“I don’t like the idea that you trust him more than me.”
“I’ve known Liam for nineteen years.”
“I’ve known you for one night and two disasters.”
“Exactly.”
He gave me a long look.
“Yet here we are.”
My heart betrayed me with a hard beat.
Before I could answer, a black SUV stopped along the curb.
Alessandro’s expression hardened instantly.
“That’s not mine.”
The rear window lowered.
A man sat inside.
Silver hair.
Richard Kane.
He looked directly at me.
Then smiled.
Not warmly.
Knowingly.
The SUV pulled away.
Alessandro immediately reached for his phone.
“Marcus.”
I grabbed his arm.
“Alessandro.”
He looked at me.
“He knows.”
“Yes.”
For the first time, I heard genuine fear in Alessandro Vitali’s voice.
“We need to get you somewhere safe.”
“I’m not going to your house.”
“Then where?”
I thought of Liam.
Our second-floor apartment.
The broken security light in the alley.
The lock that stuck in winter.
Suddenly it didn’t feel safe.
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A text message.
I opened it.
One photograph.
My father.
Alive.
Standing beside Richard Kane.
Taken eight years ago.
Below it were seven words.
YOUR FATHER SHOULD HAVE KEPT HIS MOUTH SHUT.
Then another message arrived.
LIKE FATHER, LIKE DAUGHTER.
Alessandro read over my shoulder.
His entire expression changed.
Whatever tenderness had been in him disappeared.
In its place was something colder.
Dangerous.
“Give me the phone.”
“What are you going to do?”
“End this.”
“No.”
His eyes met mine.
“This man threatened you.”
“And I need answers.”
“You need to stay alive.”
My hand moved once more toward my stomach.
This time, Alessandro saw it clearly.
His eyes lowered.
Then returned to my face.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
“Elizabeth.”
I froze.
His gaze sharpened.
“Why do you keep touching your stomach?”
I couldn’t breathe.
“Don’t.”
“How late are you?”
My face must have answered before I did.
Alessandro went completely still.
The city noise seemed to disappear.
He looked at me as though every piece had fallen into place at once.
“Are you pregnant?”
I wanted to lie.
I had built an entire life from lies.
But suddenly I couldn’t say another one.
“Yes.”
His face lost all color.
And then I gave him the truth that changed everything.
“It’s yours.”
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