Chapter 2 - The Name Nobody Was Supposed to Know
Vincent called back immediately.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
The temperature in the hospital room seemed to drop.
Evelyn watched his expression change from concern to something terrifyingly calm.
He pressed another contact.
"Leo. Hayes apartment. Now. Marco stopped responding."
He listened.
"No police radios. Use the rear entrance."
Another call.
"Secure every elevator on this floor."
He ended it.
Evelyn stared at him.
"What happened to Marco?"
"I don't know."
"That means something happened."
"It means I don't know."
She tried to move out of bed.
Vincent stepped forward.
"No."
"My home is being broken into."
"And you have fractured ribs."
"My entire life is in that apartment."
"Which is exactly why you are staying here."
"You don't get to decide that."
He looked at her injured wrist.
"Right now, gravity gets a vote."
Evelyn hated that he was right.
She sank back against the pillows.
The silence lasted only seconds before Vincent's phone rang.
"Marco."
He answered instantly.
A rough voice came through.
"I'm fine."
Vincent closed his eyes for half a second.
"What happened?"
"Guy came out of the bedroom window. Jumped to the fire escape."
"Did you get him?"
"No."
Vincent's jaw tightened.
"What did he take?"
"Working on it."
Evelyn leaned forward.
"Put him on speaker."
Vincent looked at her.
"It's my apartment."
After a moment, he tapped the screen.
Marco's voice filled the room.
"Ms. Hayes?"
"Is my apartment destroyed?"
"Not destroyed."
"That's not reassuring."
"Someone searched it carefully."
"What did they take?"
"Hard to tell."
Evelyn closed her eyes and pictured the space.
Her father's desk.
His old records.
A cedar box in the closet.
Photographs.
Letters.
"Check the hall closet."
Movement crackled through the phone.
"Top shelf. There should be three cardboard archive boxes."
Pause.
"Two boxes."
Evelyn went still.
"There were three."
Vincent looked at her.
"What was in the missing one?"
"My father's personal records."
"What kind?"
"I don't know. Tax papers. Old notebooks. Documents I never looked through."
Vincent's voice hardened.
"Why didn't you?"
"Because when someone dies, sometimes opening their boxes feels like making them die again."
Vincent said nothing.
Something in his face told her he understood.
Marco spoke.
"Boss, there's one more thing."
"What?"
"A photograph taped under the desk."
Evelyn frowned.
"I never taped anything under the desk."
Marco removed it.
"Old photograph. Looks twenty years old."
"Describe it."
"Three men outside a warehouse."
Vincent's expression changed.
"Turn it over."
Silence.
Marco exhaled.
"There's writing."
"What?"
"'Daniel, Salvatore, Michael. Lake Street. 2008.'"
Vincent's face became stone.
Evelyn looked at him.
"Who are Salvatore and Michael?"
Vincent took the phone off speaker.
"Stay there. Touch nothing else."
He ended the call.
"Vincent."
He walked toward the window.
"Who are they?"
He didn't answer.
Evelyn's frustration erupted.
"You keep demanding answers from me while refusing to give any."
Vincent turned.
"Salvatore Moretti was my father."
Was.
"Michael?"
"My older brother."
Evelyn's eyes moved to the ultrasound.
Room 317.
Where his brother died.
"My father knew your family."
"He knew us very well."
"How well?"
"Well enough to hide something for seventeen years."
"What?"
"I don't know."
"You keep saying that."
"Because I'm not going to invent answers simply because the truth is uncomfortable."
Evelyn studied him.
For a man surrounded by fear and rumor, he was strangely precise.
"What happened to your brother?"
Vincent remained silent for so long she thought he might refuse.
Then he said, "Michael was twenty-six. Someone shot him."
Evelyn swallowed.
"In the hospital?"
"He survived long enough to reach St. Catherine's. Room 317."
"I'm sorry."
Vincent looked away.
"He told me one thing before he died."
"What?"
"He said, 'Find Daniel.'"
Evelyn's breath caught.
"My father?"
"I assumed so."
"Did you?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"Daniel disappeared for three days."
Evelyn stared.
"He never told me."
"When he returned, he refused to explain where he'd been."
"Did you hurt him?"
The question came out before she could soften it.
Vincent met her gaze.
"No."
She searched his face.
"Did your father?"
A pause.
"No."
The hesitation was almost invisible.
Almost.
Evelyn noticed.
"You don't know."
"My father was alive then. He had methods I didn't always know about."
"What does that mean?"
"It means my family has done things I won't defend."
The honesty disturbed her more than denial would have.
"Why did my father stay?"
"He didn't. Six months after Michael died, Daniel left Moretti Holdings."
"And spent the next eleven years pretending he had never known you."
"Apparently."
Evelyn looked toward the skyline.
Her entire childhood had suddenly become suspicious.
Her father locking the study door.
The long nights he spent shredding documents.
His refusal to talk about work.
The way he had panicked once when a black sedan remained parked across the street for two nights.
She had been thirteen.
She had forgotten.
Or convinced herself she had.
"Adrian asked about my father's boxes."
Vincent's eyes sharpened.
"Exactly what did he ask?"
"He wanted to know whether Dad kept old financial ledgers."
Vincent walked closer.
"When?"
"A month before we broke up."
"Why did you end the engagement?"
Evelyn hesitated.
"Because I caught him searching my apartment."
Vincent's face hardened.
"He told me he was looking for a passport he'd lost."
"And you believed him?"
"For about five minutes."
"What changed?"
"He didn't own a passport."
Vincent almost smiled.
It vanished immediately.
"What else?"
"I found photographs on his phone."
"Of you?"
"Of my father's desk. The archive boxes. Old papers."
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
"Why didn't you go to police?"
"Because he said he was planning a surprise memorial project for my father."
Vincent stared.
Evelyn sighed.
"I know how stupid it sounds."
"It sounds like someone who trusted the wrong person."
"That's a polite way of saying stupid."
"No."
His voice became unexpectedly quiet.
"It isn't."
For a moment she looked at him differently.
Then a nurse entered.
"Ms. Hayes, we need to take you for another scan."
Vincent immediately said, "Why?"
The nurse startled.
"Dr. Warren ordered a follow-up because of abdominal tenderness."
Evelyn's fear returned.
"The baby?"
"It's precautionary."
Vincent looked at the nurse's badge.
Then at her face.
"What's your employee number?"
The nurse blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"Evelyn isn't leaving this room until Dr. Warren confirms personally."
The nurse's face tightened.
"Mr. Moretti, I'm following medical orders."
Vincent reached for his phone.
"I'll ask him."
The nurse took one step backward.
Evelyn noticed.
So did Vincent.
"Stop."
The nurse turned.
Vincent's voice dropped.
"Don't move."
The woman bolted.
Vincent was after her instantly.
Evelyn heard shouting in the hallway.
A heavy thud.
Then silence.
Thirty seconds later, two guards brought the woman back.
She was no nurse.
Her badge had snapped off.
Vincent picked it up.
Printed photograph.
Fake name.
On the back, written in black ink:
Evelyn went cold.
Vincent looked at the woman.
"Who sent you?"
She said nothing.
"Why did you want Evelyn out of this room?"
Nothing.
Vincent's men waited.
He never raised his voice.
"Take her downstairs."
Evelyn sat forward.
"No."
Vincent looked at her.
"Don't hurt her."
The guards exchanged a glance.
Vincent studied Evelyn for a moment.
"Hospital security."
The fake nurse smiled.
It was a strange smile.
Almost relieved.
Then she looked directly at Evelyn.
"You still don't know who the father is, do you?"
Evelyn froze.
Vincent became motionless.
"What did you say?"
The woman laughed once.
Evelyn's heart monitor accelerated.
"I know who the father is."
The woman looked toward Vincent.
"And so does he."
Evelyn turned.
Vincent's face was unreadable.
"No," she whispered.
The fake nurse continued.
"Ask him why he froze when he saw the ultrasound."
Vincent stepped forward.
"Enough."
"Ask him about Adrian Vale."
"Take her."
The guards moved.
She shouted as they dragged her toward the door.
"Ask Vincent Moretti why Adrian used to call him brother!"
Evelyn stared at Vincent.
The door closed.
Silence swallowed the room.
"You know Adrian."
Vincent didn't answer.
"You knew him before today."
His jaw tightened.
"Yes."
Evelyn felt something inside her fall.
"How?"
Vincent looked at the door, then back at her.
"Adrian Vale isn't his real name."
She could barely breathe.
"What is it?"
Vincent's phone vibrated.
A message appeared.
He looked down.
His expression changed.
Evelyn saw the sender.
MARCO.
The message contained a photograph of an old birth certificate.
Vincent enlarged it.
Evelyn read the name.
ADRIAN MICHAEL MORETTI.
She looked up slowly.
Vincent said nothing.
Then another message arrived beneath it.
May you like
A single sentence.
Boss, according to this certificate, Adrian is Michael's son.
