Chapter 6 - THE REPORT THAT NEVER EXISTED
Thomas Keene had spent fourteen years waiting for Adrian DeLuca to discover the truth.
He had also spent fourteen years terrified that he would.
They met in an abandoned church outside Murfreesboro because Keene refused to enter any property associated with the DeLuca family.
Adrian objected to Madeline going.
Madeline ignored him.
“Absolutely not.”
“That sounded convincing.”
“You are pregnant.”
“I noticed.”
“This man may be dangerous.”
“He asked for me because he’s afraid of you.”
“He should be.”
“That is precisely the problem.”
Adrian rubbed a hand over his face.
Marriage had introduced him to a form of negotiation his criminal empire had not prepared him for.
Finally, he agreed under conditions involving six guards, two vehicles, and enough surveillance to invade a small country.
Keene sat in the church’s last pew.
He was sixty-eight, thin, gray, and shaking so violently that Madeline could see it from the entrance.
When Adrian walked in, Keene stood immediately.
“Mr. DeLuca.”
“Sit.”
He sat.
Madeline took the pew opposite him.
“Why me?”
Keene looked at Adrian.
Then at her stomach.
“Because he might kill me before I finish.”
Adrian’s voice was quiet.
“If I wanted you dead, Thomas, you would not have had fourteen years.”
Keene swallowed.
“That isn’t comforting.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
Madeline touched Adrian’s arm.
“Tell us what happened.”
Keene closed his eyes.
“After the shooting, Mr. DeLuca had extensive abdominal trauma. There was concern about fertility. Samples were collected during recovery.”
“And?” Adrian asked.
“The first results were poor.”
Adrian’s jaw clenched.
“But not sterile,” Keene added quickly. “Low count. Temporary inflammation. The doctors expected improvement.”
Madeline felt Adrian go still beside her.
Keene continued.
“A second test six months later was normal.”
The church seemed to become silent enough to hear dust settle.
Adrian spoke slowly.
“You signed the report telling me there were no viable sperm.”
“No.”
Keene looked terrified.
“I signed a laboratory worksheet. The report you received was created later.”
“By whom?”
Keene looked down.
“Dr. Stephen Mercer.”
Adrian knew that name too well.
Mercer had been the DeLuca family physician for twenty-five years.
He had sat beside Adrian’s father while the man died.
He had attended Christmas dinners.
He had treated Adrian’s childhood fevers.
“Why?”
Keene’s eyes filled with shame.
“Your uncle paid him.”
Madeline’s fingers tightened.
“Carlo.”
Keene nodded.
Adrian did not move.
That frightened Madeline more than rage would have.
“What did Carlo want?”
“The trust.”
Adrian’s eyes lifted.
Keene pulled an envelope from his coat.
Inside was a photocopy of a document.
“The original DeLuca trust had a provision your grandfather added shortly before his death. If you produced a biological child before your thirty-sixth birthday, fifty-one percent of the controlling family shares would be locked permanently into your direct line.”
Madeline understood.
“If Adrian had no child…”
“At thirty-six, part of that voting power would transfer to the next male branch.”
“Nicholas.”
“Yes.”
Adrian stared at the paper.
“My family convinced me I could never have a child so I would never question the succession.”
Keene nodded.
“And the second fertility test?”
“Normal.”
“Third?”
“There was never a third.”
Adrian looked up sharply.
“The report from two years later.”
“Fabricated.”
Madeline felt sick.
Fourteen years.
Fourteen years Adrian had carried grief manufactured by his own family.
“Did my father know?” he asked.
Keene hesitated.
That hesitation cut deepest.
“I don’t know.”
“Wrong answer.”
“I swear.”
Keene’s voice cracked.
“Your father ordered an independent review once. Carlo found out. Two days later the physician who was supposed to perform it withdrew.”
“Why?”
“He was threatened.”
Adrian stood.
Madeline rose with him.
“Sit down.”
He looked at her.
“Adrian.”
For several seconds, fury fought reason.
Then he sat.
Keene wiped his forehead.
“There’s more.”
“Of course there is,” Madeline whispered.
“The trust provision did not only concern inheritance after birth.”
Keene looked at her stomach.
“It becomes effective the moment a physician certifies a viable pregnancy.”
Madeline’s blood went cold.
“So Carlo already knows.”
Keene nodded.
“He has known since the hospital entered the pregnancy into your insurance records.”
Adrian stood again.
This time Madeline didn’t stop him.
He called Gabriel.
“Lock down the house. Carol gets two guards. Nobody from the family enters any DeLuca property without my personal authorization.”
He looked at Madeline.
“Get the attorney.”
Keene whispered, “There’s another reason Carlo is afraid.”
Adrian ended the call.
“What?”
“Your grandfather left a sealed memorandum explaining why he created the provision.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Dr. Mercer knew.”
“Where is Mercer?”
Keene looked confused.
“I thought he still worked for the family.”
Adrian and Madeline exchanged a glance.
Dr. Stephen Mercer had retired six months earlier.
According to family records, he was living in Florida.
Gabriel discovered within thirty minutes that Mercer’s Florida house had been empty for four months.
Someone had paid the utilities automatically.
Someone had collected the mail.
But no neighbor had seen him.
By sunset, Adrian had placed trusted men across every entrance to the estate.
Madeline hated it.
The gates.
The guns.
The fear.
She stood at the bedroom window with Adrian behind her.
“Is this what your childhood was like?”
“Worse.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“I’m not trying to reassure you.”
She turned.
“You think Carlo would hurt the baby?”
Adrian did not answer quickly enough.
Madeline’s hand moved instinctively to her stomach.
“He would have to go through me.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
He stepped close.
“For years, Carlo believed I was the threat.”
Adrian touched her stomach with extraordinary gentleness.
“Now you are.”
Madeline covered his hand.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“We are.”
Something changed in his face.
Not softness.
Resolve.
That night Adrian moved into Madeline’s room.
Not because either of them said he should.
Because neither could tolerate a wall between them.
At 3:12 in the morning, the security alarm sounded.
Adrian was awake before the second tone.
Madeline sat up.
“What happened?”
His phone lit.
Gabriel’s voice came through.
“North gate. Vehicle forced through the outer barrier.”
Adrian was already reaching for the safe.
Then another call arrived.
Not from security.
From Carol.
Madeline answered.
“Aunt Carol?”
Carol was crying.
“Maddie.”
Madeline’s heart stopped.
“What happened?”
“Someone broke into the store.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No. No, I’m fine.”
Adrian came closer.
“What did they take?” Madeline asked.
Carol’s breathing shook.
“Nothing.”
Madeline frowned.
“Then why break in?”
A pause.
“They left something.”
“What?”
Carol began to sob.
“A baby carriage.”
Madeline went cold.
“And there was a note inside.”
Adrian took the phone.
“What did it say?”
May you like
Carol whispered the words.
“Some family lines are meant to end.”
