Chapter 2 - The Man Outside
Adrian reached the clinic door before Emma could stop him.
“Wait.”
He turned.
The black sedan remained at the curb.
A tall man stood beside it wearing a charcoal overcoat.
Victor Salerno.
Emma knew the name.
She knew the face.
More importantly, she remembered the last time she had seen him.
Eight months earlier.
At Adrian’s house.
The night everything changed.
“Stay inside,” Adrian said.
“No.”
“Emma.”
“You don’t get to order me around anymore.”
“This isn’t about our marriage.”
“It became about our child five minutes ago.”
His jaw tightened.
She was right, and he knew it.
Dr. Monroe approached.
“Ms. Bennett, stress is not good for you right now.”
Emma kept her eyes on Adrian.
“Who is Victor?”
Adrian hesitated.
That hesitation answered too much.
“Tell me.”
“He used to work for my father.”
“Used to?”
“Emma.”
“Why did he send you my picture?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“And my address?”
Adrian looked at her with an expression that made her stomach sink.
“Because somebody has known where you were.”
For eight months, Emma had changed routines.
She had used cash when possible.
She had rented her apartment under her middle name.
She had stopped calling old friends.
She had even switched obstetricians twice after believing she saw the same car outside two clinics.
And still somebody had known.
Adrian pressed a number on his phone.
“Marco.”
A voice answered immediately.
“I need three people at Lakeshore Women’s Health. Quietly. No weapons visible.”
Emma flinched.
Adrian noticed.
“No violence,” he added.
He ended the call.
“Happy?”
“No.”
“Neither am I.”
Outside, Victor remained motionless.
Waiting.
Adrian opened the door.
Cold air swept into the lobby.
Victor smiled.
It was not a friendly smile.
“Adrian.”
“Victor.”
“I was wondering how long it would take.”
“To do what?”
“To count.”
Emma saw Adrian’s shoulders stiffen.
Victor’s gaze moved past him toward her.
Then down toward her stomach.
Adrian stepped sideways, blocking the view.
“Look at her again,” Adrian said softly, “and we’ll have a problem.”
Victor’s smile widened.
“There he is.”
“Why are you here?”
“To prevent a mistake.”
“You made one by coming.”
Victor chuckled.
“You still think every problem can be solved by making people afraid.”
“No.”
Adrian’s voice was almost calm.
“Just some of them.”
Emma came closer to the doorway.
“Victor.”
Adrian turned sharply.
“I told you to stay inside.”
She ignored him.
Victor looked pleased.
“Emma Bennett.”
“How do you know where I live?”
Victor’s expression barely changed.
“Chicago is a small town when people owe you favors.”
Adrian moved forward.
“That wasn’t an answer.”
“It was the only one you’re getting.”
“Then leave.”
Victor glanced at Emma.
“You should ask your ex-husband what his father promised mine.”
Adrian’s face darkened.
“Don’t.”
Emma looked between them.
“What promise?”
Victor smiled again.
“Ask him why your pregnancy matters to more people than just the two of you.”
Then he got into the sedan.
Adrian stepped toward the car.
Emma caught his sleeve.
“Don’t.”
The vehicle pulled away.
Adrian watched until it disappeared.
Then he looked down at Emma’s hand on his arm.
She released him quickly.
“What did he mean?”
“Nothing.”
“That word stopped working on me before our divorce.”
Adrian rubbed his jaw.
“You need to go somewhere safe.”
“I have an apartment.”
“They know where it is.”
“I’ll stay with a friend.”
“If they know your address, they know your friends.”
“You have no idea who ‘they’ even are.”
“No, but Victor does.”
“And you still haven’t told me who Victor is.”
Adrian looked toward the clinic.
Dr. Monroe was watching from behind the glass doors.
“Your appointment.”
Emma almost laughed.
“My appointment?”
“You came here for a reason.”
“You just discovered I’m carrying your child, a man from your father’s past photographed me entering the clinic, and now you want me to finish my appointment?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because whatever happens next, our child comes first.”
The answer silenced her.
Our child.
She had spent eight months calling the baby mine.
In one sentence, Adrian had made room for himself.
She wasn’t ready for how that felt.
Dr. Monroe examined Emma thirty minutes later.
Adrian waited outside.
Not in the lobby.
Outside the examination-room door.
Emma could see his shadow beneath it.
“Blood pressure is elevated,” Dr. Monroe said.
“Dangerous?”
“Not yet. But I want you resting.”
Emma stared at the ceiling.
The fetal monitor filled the room with rapid, steady heartbeats.
Dr. Monroe smiled.
“Baby sounds strong.”
Emma closed her eyes.
For months, that sound had been hers alone.
“Can he come in?”
Dr. Monroe paused.
“Your ex-husband?”
Emma nodded.
A minute later Adrian entered.
He stopped when he heard the heartbeat.
Emma watched him.
His entire face changed again.
“What is that?”
She almost smiled.
“The baby.”
He looked at the monitor.
“That fast?”
“It’s normal,” Dr. Monroe said.
Adrian moved closer.
“How normal?”
Dr. Monroe gave Emma an amused glance.
“Very normal.”
He nodded as though memorizing the information.
Emma studied him.
Adrian had never been a man who looked uncertain.
Now he looked almost afraid to breathe.
“Do we know if it’s a boy or girl?” he asked.
Emma’s chest tightened.
“Yes.”
He looked at her.
“You know.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
She hesitated.
“A girl.”
Adrian sat down.
Just sat.
The feared Adrian Moretti, whose reputation could empty rooms, lowered himself into a plastic clinic chair and stared at nothing.
“A daughter,” he whispered.
Emma turned away before he saw tears gather in her eyes.
He had always wanted children.
That had been one of the cruelest parts.
They had spoken about them during the first year of marriage.
Two, maybe three.
A house outside the city.
Sunday breakfasts.
Ridiculous names.
Then Adrian’s world kept intruding.
Calls at midnight.
Men waiting in black cars.
Conversations that stopped when she entered rooms.
Eventually Emma stopped imagining children inside that world.
Then, three weeks after leaving, she discovered one was already coming.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked again.
His voice was different now.
Not accusatory.
Broken.
Emma looked at Dr. Monroe.
The doctor quietly disconnected the monitor.
“I’ll give you a few minutes.”
When the door closed, Emma stared at Adrian.
“Because of the night I left.”
“What happened that night?”
“You seriously don’t know?”
“No.”
She studied him.
“Your study.”
Adrian went still.
“I heard Victor arguing with you.”
He frowned.
“Victor wasn’t at my house that night.”
Emma’s pulse quickened.
“Yes, he was.”
“No.”
“I heard his voice.”
“What did he say?”
“That if I ever gave you an heir, everything would change.”
Adrian’s face lost color.
Emma continued.
“He said the old agreement would become active again.”
“What agreement?”
“You tell me.”
“I don’t know.”
“He said my child would belong to the Moretti family before it belonged to me.”
Adrian stood.
“He said that?”
“I was outside the door.”
“Who was he speaking to?”
“You.”
“No.”
“You answered him.”
“What did I say?”
Emma swallowed.
“You said, ‘Then she can never know.’”
Adrian stared at her.
Then something changed.
A memory.
“No,” he whispered.
“What?”
“That conversation happened.”
Emma’s hands tightened around the examination-table paper.
“I knew it.”
“But not the night you left.”
Her anger faltered.
“What?”
“It happened three years ago.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I remember exactly because my father was alive.”
Emma shook her head.
“I heard it that night.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“Then someone wanted you to hear it.”
The room seemed suddenly colder.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
He took out his phone.
Emma watched him dial.
“Marco. Pull every security backup from the house the night Emma left. Audio too.”
A pause.
“No, I don’t care how old the system is. Find it.”
He hung up.
Emma’s mind raced.
Someone had played an old conversation.
Someone had wanted her frightened.
Someone had wanted her gone.
“Who would do that?”
Adrian didn’t answer.
His phone rang almost immediately.
Marco.
Adrian answered.
Listened.
His expression hardened.
“What do you mean deleted?”
Emma sat up straighter.
Adrian turned toward the window.
“When?”
Another pause.
“Who authorized it?”
His face became absolutely still.
Emma knew that stillness.
It was worse than rage.
Adrian lowered the phone.
“What happened?”
“The security footage from that night was erased.”
“By whom?”
Adrian stared at her.
“The authorization came from my account.”
Emma felt the baby kick hard.
“But you didn’t do it.”
“No.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I wasn’t in Chicago when it was deleted.”
Emma’s breath caught.
Adrian’s phone vibrated again.
This time it was a photo.
He opened it.
A security still.
Grainy.
Dark.
But clear enough.
A woman stood outside Adrian’s study on the night Emma left.
She was holding a small speaker.
Emma recognized her immediately.
The baby monitor clipped to the woman’s belt reflected in the camera light.
Emma whispered, “That’s impossible.”
Adrian stared at the screen.
May you like
The woman in the photograph had been dead for six months.
And she was Adrian’s mother.
