Chapter 2 - THE CHILD SOPHIA NEVER TOLD HIM ABOUT
Dominic did not speak for several seconds.
The Christmas music beyond the reading-room doors sounded impossibly cheerful.
Violins.
Laughter.
Crystal glasses touching.
Inside, Elena Carter stood holding a sleeping three-year-old who might have just rearranged the entire Moretti family with one photograph.
Dominic looked at Lily.
Then back at Elena.
“Sophia knew she was pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Before she left New York.”
His jaw tightened.
“So she carried my child and never told me.”
Elena’s expression changed.
“She tried.”
Dominic went still.
“What?”
“She wrote you.”
“I never received anything.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because your mother showed Sophia the letters after they were returned.”
A pulse moved in Dominic’s temple.
“Returned by whom?”
“Your house.”
“My house doesn’t return my mail.”
“Apparently it did when Lucia Moretti wanted it to.”
Dominic crossed to the whiskey cabinet.
He poured nothing.
He simply placed both hands on the polished wood and stared down.
“What did the letters say?”
“I don’t know everything.”
“You read them?”
“No.”
“Sophia told me pieces.”
Elena adjusted Lily against her shoulder.
“The first letter said she was pregnant.”
Dominic’s eyes closed.
“The second said she was scared.”
He opened them.
“The third?”
“She asked you to meet her.”
“Where?”
“Central Park. The footbridge in the picture.”
That nearly did it.
Dominic turned away.
He remembered that week.
He had been waiting for Sophia to call.
He had called twelve times.
Her number had gone dead.
His mother told him Sophia had taken money and left.
He had not believed it at first.
Then Lucia produced bank records showing a transfer into Sophia’s account.
Fifty thousand dollars.
Dominic had spent months furious enough to hide the heartbreak.
“She took money,” he said.
Elena shook her head.
“No.”
“I saw the transfer.”
“Your mother made it.”
“That doesn’t mean Sophia didn’t use it.”
“She never touched it.”
Elena’s voice sharpened.
“She closed the account.”
Dominic looked at her.
“We lived for months on what I made working nights at a pharmacy because Sophia refused to touch anything with the Moretti name attached.”
Something inside him shifted.
For four years, he had believed the ugliest version of their ending because pride made it easier than admitting he had been abandoned.
Now even that was being taken from him.
“What exactly did my mother threaten?”
Elena looked toward the door.
Dominic noticed.
“No one can hear us.”
“That’s what Sophia thought too.”
“Tell me.”
Elena swallowed.
“Lucia knew where our father worked. She knew the street our mother lived on. She knew where I went to nursing school.”
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“She said accidents happen around men like you.”
His hands curled.
“She said Sophia could stay, but if she did, our family would become pressure points.”
“That sounds like my mother.”
Elena stared at him.
The answer was not the denial she expected.
Dominic continued.
“It does not sound like something I would have allowed.”
“Sophia didn’t know that.”
“She should have.”
“She was twenty-four.”
“So was I once.”
“And were you brave enough at twenty-four to stand in front of Lucia Moretti and assume everything would be fine?”
Dominic had no answer.
Elena lowered her voice.
“Sophia loved you.”
His gaze lifted.
“She loved you enough to leave.”
“I don’t want poetry.”
“It wasn’t poetry.”
Elena’s eyes filled.
“It destroyed her.”
Dominic looked at Lily.
The little girl’s cheek rested against Elena’s shoulder.
One hand still held the worn photograph.
“When was she born?”
“November twenty-first.”
Dominic counted automatically.
His own birthday was February second.
The conception date did not require much mathematics.
He remembered the night.
Sophia laughing in his kitchen.
Bare feet on cold tile.
His shirt on her shoulders.
He had thought they had time.
“What was the delivery complication?”
Elena went pale.
“She hemorrhaged.”
“Why wasn’t she in a better hospital?”
“We were in Albany.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“She had no insurance.”
Dominic stared.
Elena’s chin lifted.
“We did what we could.”
“You should have called me.”
“Sophia forbade it.”
“She was dying.”
“She was terrified.”
“She was dying!”
Lily stirred.
Dominic stopped instantly.
The room went silent.
The little girl blinked awake.
Her eyes moved to Dominic.
Then Elena.
“Are you mad?”
The question hit him.
“No.”
“You sound mad.”
“I am.”
“At me?”
He crouched.
“No.”
“At Aunt Elena?”
“No.”
Lily frowned.
“Then who?”
Dominic almost said my mother.
He stopped.
Three years old.
Not her burden.
“At something that happened a long time ago.”
Lily considered this.
“Christmas?”
Elena gave a broken laugh.
Dominic almost smiled.
“No. Before Christmas.”
Lily looked at the photograph in Dominic’s hand.
“That’s Mommy.”
“I know.”
“She had pretty hair.”
“She did.”
“Did you know her?”
Elena’s eyes closed.
Dominic looked directly at Lily.
“Yes.”
The child’s face brightened.
“You were her friend?”
He swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Best friend?”
Elena looked at him.
Dominic answered carefully.
“I wanted to be.”
Lily seemed satisfied.
Then she reached for the picture.
Dominic handed it back.
Her small fingers brushed his.
Something about the shape of her hand made his chest ache.
“Who is her father?” he asked Elena.
Lily answered first.
“I don’t have one.”
Dominic felt the words physically.
Elena looked horrified.
“Baby—”
“Other kids have daddies.”
Lily looked at Dominic.
“Mine is in heaven with Mommy.”
Dominic turned toward Elena so slowly it frightened her.
“You told her I was dead?”
“No.”
“She assumed.”
“And you let her.”
“What was I supposed to say?”
“The truth.”
“What truth?”
Elena’s voice cracked.
“That her father was one of the most dangerous men in New York? That her mother died believing his family might kill us if he found out?”
Dominic stood.
“My mother is not my family anymore if this is true.”
Elena stared.
“Do you mean that?”
He looked toward the ballroom doors.
“Yes.”
Then his expression changed.
“Where are Lily’s things?”
“In my room downstairs.”
“Pack them.”
Elena stiffened.
“Why?”
“She is not going back to staff quarters.”
“You can’t just—”
“I can.”
“That’s exactly what Sophia feared.”
Dominic stopped.
Elena tightened her arms around Lily.
“You don’t get to discover her and suddenly make every decision.”
He stared at her.
No one spoke to Dominic Moretti that way.
Not anymore.
But Elena was right.
He forced his hands to relax.
“What do you want?”
“To keep her safe.”
“So do I.”
“You don’t even know her.”
“No.”
His voice softened.
“But I would like to.”
Elena studied him.
Before she could answer, the reading-room door opened.
Dominic’s fiancée stood there.
Vanessa Hale.
Thirty-one.
Perfect blond hair.
A diamond necklace chosen by Dominic’s mother.
She looked from Dominic to Elena to Lily.
Then to the photograph.
Her smile disappeared.
“Dominic.”
He straightened.
“What?”
“Your mother is looking for you.”
His expression went cold.
“Good.”
Vanessa frowned.
“Good?”
Dominic stepped toward the door.
“Tell her I’m looking for her too.”
Then he looked back at Elena.
“Do not leave this room.”
Vanessa stared.
“Why?”
Dominic held her gaze.
“Because the engagement party is over.”
May you like
And before Vanessa could ask what that meant, Dominic Moretti walked back into a ballroom full of two hundred guests to confront his mother on Christmas night.
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