Chapter 2 - HE FOUND HIS DEAD WIFE SEVEN MONTHS PREGNANT WHILE DINING WITH ANOTHER WOMAN—BUT THE FIRST SECRET SHE REVEALED MADE THE MAFIA BOSS QUESTION EVERYONE HE TRUSTED
At 2:16 in the morning, Dominic Moretti stood outside a private examination room and listened to the steady electronic rhythm of his unborn child's heartbeat.
He had heard gunfire without flinching.
He had watched powerful men beg for mercy.
He had stood beside an empty coffin while the priest spoke about his wife in the past tense.
Nothing had prepared him for that sound.
A heartbeat.
Fast.
Strong.
Alive.
Inside the room, Isabella lay beneath a white hospital blanket.
Her dark hair, still carrying traces of cheap brown dye, spread across the pillow.
An obstetrician named Dr. Evelyn Hart was examining the monitor beside her.
"The contractions have slowed," Dr. Hart said. "The baby's heart rate is reassuring, but I want continued observation."
Isabella nodded.
"Will she be all right?"
Dominic froze.
She.
Their baby was a girl.
Dr. Hart smiled gently.
"We'll keep monitoring both of you. Right now, there's no sign that delivery is imminent."
Isabella closed her eyes.
Relief softened her face.
Dominic felt his own knees weaken.
He had spent eight months believing his wife and child were dead.
Now he knew he had a daughter.
A daughter whose first heartbeat he had almost missed forever.
Dr. Hart stepped into the hallway.
Dominic straightened.
"Doctor."
She studied him.
"Mr. Moretti."
"Is she safe?"
"She's stable, but she's exhausted and has experienced significant stress."
He nodded.
"Can I see her?"
"That's her decision."
Dominic swallowed.
"Of course."
The doctor looked at him carefully.
"Your wife has asked for privacy."
His chest tightened.
"I understand."
"She also asked whether the hospital can keep her registration confidential."
Dominic went still.
Dr. Hart continued.
"We have privacy procedures in place. I suggest you respect them."
He nodded.
"I will."
For the first time in years, Dominic Moretti accepted an instruction without argument.
He sat on a bench outside the examination room.
And waited.
***
Inside, Isabella stared at the ceiling.
The baby had settled.
Her contractions had eased.
But her mind would not stop racing.
Matteo Rinaldi had seen her.
The man who controlled the Moretti estate's cameras.
The man who knew every security code.
The man who had arrived at the burning car before the police.
She had spent eight months hiding because she believed someone inside Dominic's organization had tried to kill her.
Now she had proof that the danger remained.
But she still did not know whether Dominic himself was safe to trust.
A soft knock sounded.
"Isabella?"
Dr. Hart entered.
"Your husband is outside."
Isabella looked away.
"I know."
"He hasn't tried to come in."
That surprised her.
Dominic had never been good at waiting.
He was a man who solved problems by moving faster than everyone else.
"He asked whether he could speak with you," the doctor continued.
Isabella hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Five minutes."
Dr. Hart smiled.
"I'll tell him."
A moment later, Dominic entered.
He had changed into a clean shirt.
His hair was still damp.
He looked exhausted.
But when his eyes found Isabella, something in his expression softened so completely that she almost forgot to be angry.
Almost.
"Bella."
She looked toward the window.
"Don't call me that."
He stopped.
"Okay."
Silence.
He stood near the door.
She noticed that he did not approach the bed.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Tired."
He nodded.
"The doctor said the baby is stable."
"Yes."
His voice trembled.
"A girl?"
Isabella closed her eyes.
"Yes."
Dominic looked down.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he whispered:
"I have a daughter."
Isabella's throat tightened.
"Our daughter."
He nodded quickly.
"Yes."
She looked at him.
"Dominic, I need you to understand something."
He raised his eyes.
"Whatever happens between us, I will not return to the Moretti estate."
He swallowed.
"Okay."
She blinked.
"What?"
"I said okay."
Isabella studied him.
He continued.
"You were almost killed there. I won't ask you to go back."
She looked away.
For a moment, she did not know what to say.
Then she asked:
"Why are you marrying Natalia Russo?"
Dominic's face changed.
He looked toward the floor.
"The engagement was part of a political agreement."
Isabella laughed bitterly.
"Political."
He nodded.
"Between our families."
"Did you love her?"
"No."
"Did you sleep with her?"
Dominic went still.
Isabella's eyes filled.
"Answer me."
He swallowed.
"No."
She studied his face.
He continued.
"I agreed to the engagement because the Russo family offered access to the port contracts after your death."
Her expression hardened.
"After my death."
Dominic closed his eyes.
"I know how it sounds."
"No," Isabella whispered. "I don't think you do."
He looked at her.
She continued.
"I spent eight months sleeping in rented rooms, hiding from strangers, working until my feet swelled, and wondering whether my baby would survive."
Tears filled her eyes.
"And you were planning a wedding."
Dominic's face crumpled.
He stepped forward.
Then stopped.
"I'm sorry."
Isabella shook her head.
"Sorry doesn't give me those months back."
"I know."
"Sorry doesn't erase the fear."
"I know."
"And sorry doesn't explain why Natalia's father benefited from my disappearance."
Dominic went still.
"What?"
Isabella looked directly at him.
"Why did the Russo family suddenly gain access to the port contracts after I died?"
He frowned.
"The agreement was negotiated by Matteo."
Her stomach dropped.
"Matteo?"
Dominic nodded.
"He handled the security arrangements."
Isabella closed her eyes.
There it was.
Another connection.
Matteo controlled the cameras.
Matteo had arrived at the burning car.
Matteo had arranged the Russo agreement.
And Matteo had been watching outside the restaurant.
"Dominic."
He looked up.
"I need you to listen carefully."
He nodded.
"Eight months ago, I didn't simply survive an explosion."
She swallowed.
"I survived an assassination attempt."
Dominic's expression hardened.
"Tell me everything."
So she did.
She told him about the gasoline smell.
The traffic.
The explosion.
The security vehicle.
The man who had watched the burning wreckage without searching for survivors.
She told him about the nights she spent hiding.
The false identity.
The fear that someone would discover her pregnancy.
And the reason she never contacted him.
When she finished, Dominic stood motionless.
His face was pale.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then he whispered:
"I failed you."
Isabella looked down.
He continued.
"I should have questioned the investigation."
She nodded.
"I should have demanded proof."
He swallowed.
"And I should never have allowed Matteo to control the evidence."
Isabella looked at him.
"Can you trust Vincenzo?"
Dominic hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Yes."
She studied him.
"Are you sure?"
He took a breath.
"No."
The honesty surprised her.
He continued.
"But I can verify what he knows."
Isabella nodded slowly.
For the first time in eight months, she felt something unfamiliar.
Not safety.
Not yet.
But the possibility of it.
***
At 4:38 a.m., Dominic called Vincenzo into a private conference room.
The scarred enforcer stood beside the table.
"Boss."
Dominic placed a photograph in front of him.
Matteo Rinaldi.
Vincenzo frowned.
"What about him?"
"Where was he the night Isabella's car exploded?"
Vincenzo went still.
"At the estate."
Dominic stared.
"All night?"
Vincenzo hesitated.
"I don't know."
Dominic leaned forward.
"Find out."
Vincenzo nodded.
"Of course."
"And Vincenzo?"
"Yes?"
"No one inside the organization learns Isabella is alive."
The enforcer swallowed.
"Understood."
Dominic looked toward the hospital corridor.
"Not until we know who tried to kill her."
Vincenzo nodded.
Then hesitated.
"Boss."
Dominic looked up.
"There's something you should know."
"What?"
Vincenzo swallowed.
"Matteo called me after the restaurant incident."
Dominic went still.
"When?"
"Before we reached the hospital."
"What did he say?"
Vincenzo looked uncomfortable.
"He asked whether the waitress was really Isabella."
Dominic's jaw tightened.
"And what did you tell him?"
"That I didn't know."
Dominic stared.
Vincenzo continued.
"He sounded frightened."
Dominic looked toward the window.
Matteo Rinaldi had never been frightened of anything.
Not rival gangs.
Not federal investigators.
Not Dominic himself.
If he was frightened now, it meant Isabella's survival threatened something far larger than a single assassination attempt.
"Find out where he is," Dominic ordered.
Vincenzo nodded.
Then left.
Dominic stood alone.
For a long moment, he stared at Matteo's photograph.
Then his phone vibrated.
A message from Natalia.
WHERE ARE YOU? MY FATHER IS FURIOUS.
Dominic stared.
Then typed:
THE ENGAGEMENT IS OVER.
Her reply came immediately.
YOU CAN'T DO THAT.
Dominic looked toward the hospital room where Isabella slept.
Then typed:
WATCH ME.
***
By morning, Natalia Russo knew something was wrong.
Her father, Carlo Russo, stood in the library of their Manhattan townhouse.
His face was red with anger.
"Dominic canceled the engagement?"
Natalia nodded.
"He sent one message."
Carlo slammed his hand against the desk.
"Impossible."
Natalia looked away.
"He found someone."
Carlo froze.
"Who?"
Natalia swallowed.
"The waitress."
Carlo stared.
"What waitress?"
Natalia's voice trembled.
"The pregnant woman at the restaurant."
Carlo's expression changed.
For a moment, he looked genuinely frightened.
Then he whispered:
"Describe her."
Natalia frowned.
"Brown hair. Glasses. Pregnant."
Carlo stepped closer.
"Her eyes."
Natalia blinked.
"What?"
"What color were her eyes?"
Natalia swallowed.
"Green."
Carlo went pale.
He turned toward the window.
Then reached for his phone.
Natalia stared.
"Father?"
He ignored her.
Dialed a number.
Waited.
Then spoke quietly.
"Matteo."
A pause.
"We have a problem."
Natalia's stomach tightened.
"What problem?"
Carlo looked at her.
His voice was cold.
"Dominic's dead wife."
Natalia froze.
Carlo continued into the phone.
"She's alive."
A long silence followed.
Then Matteo's voice came through.
"I know."
Carlo closed his eyes.
"Then finish what you started."
Natalia stared at her father.
For the first time, she understood that the engagement had never been about marriage.
It had been about control.
And Isabella Moretti's return threatened everything.
***
At the hospital, Isabella woke to find a small envelope beside her bed.
Inside was a photograph.
Not of Dominic.
Not of the baby.
A photograph of Emilio, her dead chauffeur.
He stood beside his two daughters.
On the back was a handwritten message.
HE KNEW THE TRUTH BEFORE HE DIED.
Isabella stared.
Her hands began shaking.
Then she noticed a second line.
ASK DOMINIC WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SECURITY RECORDINGS.
She looked toward the door.
Dominic was speaking quietly with Dr. Hart.
Isabella swallowed.
For eight months, she had believed the explosion was meant to kill her.
Now she wondered whether Emilio had died because he had discovered something.
May you like
Something Matteo and Carlo Russo would do anything to hide.
And somewhere in New York, a man who had been declared dead was about to become the most important witness in the city.
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