Alessandro didn’t speak for almost ten seconds.
I counted because I didn’t know what else to do.
One.
Two.
Three.
His eyes moved to my stomach.
Four.
Five.
Then back to my face.
Six.
Seven.
His lips parted.
Eight.
Nine.
“You’re sure?”
Ten.
I almost slapped him.
Instead, I folded my arms.
“Yes.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
“It sounded exactly like what you meant.”
“I’m asking if you’re sure you’re pregnant.”
“Oh.”
He exhaled.
“Not whether it’s mine.”
That should not have mattered.
It did.
“I took three tests.”
“Three?”
“The first one seemed rude.”
For some reason, Alessandro laughed.
A short, stunned sound.
Then he dragged a hand over his face.
“You’re pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“With my child.”
“Yes.”
He looked toward the frozen lake.
For the first time since I had met him, Alessandro Vitali looked completely unprepared.
“How long have you known?”
“Yesterday.”
“Before Marcus came?”
“About seven minutes before Marcus came.”
“That explains your face.”
“My face?”
“You looked like someone had detonated a bomb in your kitchen.”
“Emotionally accurate.”
His smile disappeared.
“Were you going to tell me?”
I said nothing.
That was enough.
Pain crossed his expression.
“You weren’t.”
“I didn’t know what kind of man you were.”
“And now?”
“I still don’t.”
He nodded once.
“Fair.”
That answer hurt more than anger would have.
He didn’t demand anything.
Didn’t accuse me.
Didn’t threaten.
He simply asked, “Do you want the baby?”
“Yes.”
Immediate.
Certain.
Something softened in his eyes.
“Then so do I.”
My throat tightened.
“You don’t even know me.”
“No.”
“You don’t know whether we can stand each other for longer than forty-eight hours.”
“I’m beginning to suspect we may not.”
I almost smiled.
He continued.
“But that child is mine whether you marry me, hate me, or disappear to Alaska.”
“I wasn’t planning Alaska.”
“Good. I own nothing there.”
That time I did laugh.
It lasted only a second.
Then reality returned.
Kane.
My parents.
The threat.
Alessandro’s expression hardened.
“You can’t go back to that apartment.”
“I’m not moving into your penthouse.”
“I didn’t say penthouse.”
“You were thinking penthouse.”
“I own several safe properties.”
“That sentence is exactly why I don’t trust your definition of normal.”
He stepped closer.
“Elizabeth, someone threatened you minutes ago.”
“I know.”
“And now there’s a child involved.”
“My child.”
“Our child.”
The words landed between us.
Our.
I wasn’t ready for how much that affected me.
“We do this carefully,” I said.
“You choose where you stay.”
“Liam comes.”
Alessandro’s jaw tightened.
“Of course he does.”
“He’s family.”
“I said nothing.”
“Again, you think loudly.”
We compromised.
Alessandro owned a small town house in Lincoln Park under a holding company.
Small, apparently, meant four bedrooms, three fireplaces, and a kitchen larger than Liam’s apartment.
Liam arrived carrying two duffel bags and a baseball bat.
Alessandro looked at the bat.
“Seriously?”
Liam looked at Alessandro’s security team.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
I stepped between them.
“If either of you turns this into a testosterone competition, I’m sleeping at a motel.”
Both men stopped.
“Good,” I said.
Marcus Hale was placed outside.
Two more guards covered the rear entrance.
For the first time in years, I slept behind reinforced glass.
I hated how safe it felt.
The next morning, Alessandro drove me to a doctor.
I didn’t ask how he cleared his schedule.
I suspected executives all over Chicago had been suddenly informed their meetings were less important than an ultrasound.
The doctor confirmed I was approximately six weeks pregnant.
Too early for much.
But everything looked normal.
Alessandro sat beside me.
Silent.
His hand rested on his knee.
I could see tension in his fingers.
The doctor smiled.
“Congratulations.”
I looked at Alessandro.
He stared at the monitor as though it contained the meaning of life.
When we returned to the hallway, he didn’t move.
“What?” I asked.
He blinked.
“Nothing.”
“You look weird.”
“I’ve never done this.”
“Neither have I.”
He nodded slowly.
Then he said something I never expected.
“I’m terrified.”
The honesty broke through every wall I had built.
“So am I.”
For one quiet second, we were not a billionaire and a woman hiding under another name.
We were two people who had made a child.
Then Marcus approached.
“We have a problem.”
Alessandro’s face hardened.
“What?”
“Richard Kane didn’t go home last night.”
“Where is he?”
“We don’t know.”
“Find him.”
Marcus hesitated.
“There’s more.”
He handed Alessandro a tablet.
A financial news site filled the screen.
VITALI HEIR LINKED TO MYSTERY WOMAN IN CORPORATE SCANDAL.
Below it was a photograph from Grant Park.
Alessandro and me.
My face clear.
The article called me Emma Reed.
But halfway down appeared another line.
Sources suggest Reed may be connected to deceased accountant Daniel Mercer.
My stomach dropped.
“They know.”
Alessandro’s jaw tightened.
“Someone leaked it.”
Liam read over my shoulder.
“Comments are already trying to identify her.”
My phone began vibrating.
Unknown numbers.
Social media notifications.
Diner coworkers.
One message from Rosa.
Emma, what the hell?
Another.
Reporters are here.
I stared at the screen.
Eight years of hiding ended in one headline.
Alessandro reached for the phone.
“Turn it off.”
“My job—”
“I’ll handle the diner.”
“No.”
“Elizabeth—”
“You don’t buy my problems.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“That’s what powerful men say right before they start making decisions for everyone else.”
He stepped back.
The words landed hard.
I regretted them immediately.
His voice became quieter.
“I’m not my father.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
I looked away.
The truth was I didn’t.
Not yet.
That afternoon, Victor Vitali came to the town house.
I almost refused to see him.
Then he brought something.
A small metal key.
“I should have given this to you years ago,” he said.
Alessandro stood beside me.
“What is it?”
Victor looked at me.
“Your father’s.”
My breathing stopped.
“He gave it to me two days before he died.”
“Why?”
“He said if anything happened, I was to give it to Sarah.”
“You never did.”
“I tried.”
Victor’s face tightened.
“Kane had people watching your family. By the time I understood how deep his network went, Daniel was dead.”
“And my mother?”
“I warned her to leave Chicago.”
“She died.”
“I know.”
His voice cracked.
For the first time, the powerful Victor Vitali looked old.
“I have lived with that failure every day.”
I took the key.
“What does it open?”
“A safe-deposit box.”
“Where?”
“Lakeview Federal.”
Alessandro frowned.
“That bank closed six years ago.”
Victor nodded.
“The boxes were transferred to Central Meridian.”
He handed me a card with a number.
“Your father believed Kane would eventually destroy every digital record.”
“What’s inside?”
“I don’t know.”
We went the next morning.
Alessandro, Liam, Victor, Marcus, and me.
The bank manager led us to a private room.
My hands trembled as I turned the key.
Inside the box sat an envelope.
On the front, my father’s handwriting.
For Elizabeth.
I stopped breathing.
Liam squeezed my shoulder.
I opened it.
There was a letter.
Sweetheart,
If you are reading this, then I was right to be afraid.
I hope I was wrong about what comes next.
Whatever happens, understand one thing.
Victor Vitali is not the man you need to fear.
The man you need to fear is Richard Kane.
My eyes filled with tears.
There was more.
Kane discovered that Matteo Vitali was moving money through redevelopment contracts and convinced him to expand the operation. When Victor became suspicious, he hired me. Matteo wanted out. Kane would not let him leave.
I have proof.
Everything is stored on the enclosed drive.
Do not trust the police until you know who Kane owns.
Do not let hatred blind you to the people who tried to help.
And Elizabeth—
Live.
Do not turn your life into an investigation of my death.
Your mother and I gave you life so you could use it.
Love,
Dad.
I covered my mouth.
For eight years, I had wondered whether my father died because of the Vitalis.
Now he was telling me from the grave that Victor had tried to help.
Alessandro stood across the table.
His eyes were wet.
I looked at him.
“I was wrong about your family.”
“Not completely.”
Victor lowered his head.
“My brother helped create this.”
“But Kane killed my parents.”
Victor’s expression hardened.
“I believe so.”
Marcus picked up the flash drive.
“If this still works, we take it directly to federal investigators.”
Alessandro nodded.
“No local police.”
Then every light in the bank went out.
Darkness.
A security alarm screamed.
Marcus shouted, “Down!”
Alessandro grabbed me and pulled me behind the heavy table.
Glass shattered somewhere outside.
People screamed.
My heart pounded.
One hand went over my stomach.
Alessandro covered me with his body.
“Stay down.”
Footsteps ran through the hallway.
Marcus drew his weapon but didn’t fire.
A voice shouted.
Then silence.
Emergency lights flickered on.
The deposit box was open.
The flash drive was gone.
And Victor Vitali was lying on the floor.
Blood darkened the sleeve of his coat.
“Dad!”
Alessandro rushed to him.
Victor was conscious.
Barely.
Marcus pressed his hand against the wound.
“They took the drive.”
Victor looked at me.
“Kane.”
Then his eyes closed.
Alessandro shouted for an ambulance.
I stood frozen, my father’s letter still clutched in my hand.
Richard Kane had just proved something.
He wasn’t afraid of the Vitalis.
He wasn’t afraid of the law.
And now he knew the evidence my father had protected for eight years still existed.
What Kane didn’t know was that I had noticed one final thing before the bank went dark.
My father’s letter contained a handwritten string of numbers.
A sequence I recognized.
Not a bank account.
Not a password.
Coordinates.
And wherever they led, my father had hidden something even Richard Kane didn’t know about.
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