Chapter 11 - The Price of an Aruri Heir
Margaret’s room was empty.
Her clothes remained.
Her medical bag did not.
Luciano searched the security footage.
At 4:12 a.m., Margaret left through the east entrance.
At 4:16, a vehicle departed.
Elena stared at the screen.
“She’s going to the hospital.”
Luciano’s blood chilled.
Grace.
He called the neonatal unit.
A nurse answered.
“Grace Aruri?”
A pause.
“Mr. Aruri, someone claiming to be her authorized midwife just arrived.”
“Lock the ward.”
“Sir?”
“Now.”
Luciano was already moving.
Kate tried to sit up.
“No.”
“I’m coming.”
“You almost died.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“And mine.”
Their eyes locked.
Luciano knew that expression.
There was no winning.
Twenty minutes later, they boarded the helicopter.
Kate lay on a medical stretcher with a physician beside her.
Luciano held her hand.
“You are the most unreasonable woman I’ve ever met.”
“You married me.”
“Excellent point.”
At the hospital, security had detained Margaret.
Grace was safe.
Luciano entered the interview room.
Margaret sat calmly.
“Why?”
She looked at him.
“I was protecting her.”
“From whom?”
“You.”
Luciano stared.
“You really don't understand what your name does to people.”
“Then explain.”
“My husband worked for Vittorio.”
Vittorio went still behind the glass.
“He discovered the shipping operation,” Margaret continued. “He tried to report it. He disappeared.”
“Who killed him?”
“Vittorio.”
Vittorio entered.
“No.”
Margaret stood.
“You ordered it.”
“I ordered him moved into protective custody.”
“He never came home.”
“Because Antonio Vescari intercepted the transport.”
Margaret’s certainty faltered.
Vittorio placed a file on the table.
Inside was a photograph.
Margaret’s husband.
Alive.
Dated six years after his disappearance.
Her hands shook.
“No.”
“He survived,” Vittorio said. “He entered witness protection.”
“Why didn't he contact me?”
“He believed you were working for Vescari.”
Margaret stared at him.
Then began to cry.
Decades of manipulation collapsed in seconds.
“Who recruited you?” Luciano asked.
Margaret whispered a name.
“Elena.”
Luciano turned.
Elena had disappeared.
Again.
They found her in the hospital chapel.
She didn't run.
“I knew Margaret would take the file,” Elena said.
“You used her.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To flush out the person above her.”
“Who?”
Elena handed Luciano a phone.
A message waited.
BRING THE ORIGINAL TRUST TO PIER 17.
ALONE.
Luciano looked at her.
“Who sent it?”
“I don't know.”
Kate entered slowly in a wheelchair.
Luciano frowned.
“You should be in bed.”
“I have spent seven months being told where I should be.”
He stopped.
Then moved aside.
Kate looked at the message.
“Pier 17.”
Her face changed.
“What?”
“My grandmother owned warehouse property there.”
Vittorio nodded.
“Before selling it to us.”
Kate looked at Luciano.
“The answer isn't in the trust.”
“What?”
“My grandmother’s clue. Choices tell you where you belong.”
She reached for the letter.
“The names aren't suspects.”
“Then what are they?”
“Witnesses.”
“To what?”
Kate looked at the order.
Vittorio. Isabella. Carlo. Adrian. Luciano. Elena. Margaret.
“It's chronological.”
Luciano understood.
“Each person witnessed one piece.”
Kate nodded.
“And the last witness is Margaret.”
Margaret wiped her tears.
“What did I witness?”
Kate looked at her.
“My birth.”
Silence.
Margaret stared.
Then slowly stood.
“Oh, my God.”
“What?” Luciano asked.
Margaret looked at Kate.
“You weren't born Katherine Hawthorne.”
Kate went still.
“What was my name?”
Margaret's lips trembled.
Before she could answer, every phone in the hospital corridor chimed at once.
A photograph appeared.
Grace.
Taken through the neonatal-unit window seconds earlier.
May you like
Under it were six words.
MIDNIGHT. PIER 17. BRING KATHERINE TOO.
