Chapter 10 - THE DAUGHTER THOMAS NEVER KNEW EXISTED
Thomas laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“I've never had a child.”
Elena looked at him.
“You were nineteen.”
His face changed.
I noticed.
“There was a woman.”
He looked away.
“Her name was Claire.”
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?”
“She disappeared.”
Elena nodded.
“She was pregnant.”
Thomas's face went pale.
“No.”
“She never told you.”
“Why?”
“Carlo.”
Of course.
Thomas stepped backward.
“My father knew?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
Elena hesitated.
“Claire died during childbirth.”
The words hit him hard.
He turned away.
I could see the grief arrive thirty years late.
“And the baby?”
Elena looked at me.
“The baby was supposed to be killed.”
My stomach turned.
“So you switched us.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Carlo's men were looking for Elena Marino's daughter.”
“Me.”
“Yes.”
“But if you switched us…”
Thomas turned slowly.
“Then my daughter was raised as Jean?”
Elena shook her head.
“No.”
My confusion sharpened.
“The hospital identities were switched only long enough to confuse Carlo's people. After that, Gabriel took Thomas's daughter somewhere safe.”
“Where?”
“I never knew.”
Thomas looked devastated.
For years, he had believed he had no child.
Now he had a daughter somewhere.
Maybe alive.
Maybe not.
Marcus slipped his hand into mine.
Thomas noticed.
His expression softened.
Then Vincent found something in another file.
“Boss.”
Thomas turned.
A photograph.
Two newborns in hospital bassinets.
One labeled JEAN MARINO.
The other labeled LUCY REED.
Thomas stared.
“Lucy.”
Elena nodded.
“That was Claire's last name.”
I looked at the photograph.
“Can we find her?”
Vincent checked the file.
“There are adoption records.”
Thomas's breathing changed.
“Where?”
“Westchester County.”
He read further.
Then stopped.
“What?”
Vincent looked at Thomas.
“She was adopted by the Hail family.”
Silence.
My blood went cold.
“Hail?”
Vincent nodded.
Richard Hail.
Thomas stepped closer.
“Full name.”
Vincent swallowed.
“Lucinda Hail.”
I knew that name.
Everyone in Manhattan did.
Lucinda Hail was Richard's younger sister.
A wealthy philanthropist.
Thirty years old.
Always in magazines.
Always photographed at galas.
Thomas's daughter had been living in New York her entire life.
We found her that evening.
Not at a gala.
At a hospital.
She was visiting Richard after the shooting.
Thomas stood outside the room for almost ten minutes.
I stayed beside him.
“You don't have to do this alone.”
He looked at me.
“I don't know what to say.”
“Start with hello.”
His mouth twitched.
We entered.
Lucinda looked up.
She had Thomas's eyes.
It was immediate.
Undeniable.
Richard's face changed.
“You.”
Thomas ignored him.
Lucinda stood.
“Mr. Dinaro?”
He swallowed.
“Thomas.”
She frowned.
“I know who you are.”
“Apparently, I didn't know who you were.”
Richard closed his eyes.
Lucinda looked between them.
“What is going on?”
Thomas glanced at me.
Then back at her.
“I think I'm your father.”
Silence.
Lucinda laughed.
Then stopped when no one else did.
“No.”
Richard whispered,
“Lucy.”
She turned.
“You knew?”
His face broke.
“I found out years ago.”
Thomas's expression hardened.
“And you said nothing.”
Richard looked at him.
“I was protecting her.”
“From who?”
Richard's answer came quietly.
“Carlo.”
Then Lucinda's phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
A voice spoke.
She went pale.
“Who is this?”
Her eyes moved toward Thomas.
Then she slowly handed him the phone.
Carlo's voice filled the room.
“Hello, son.”
Thomas's face became ice.
Carlo continued.
“I hear you finally found your daughter.”
May you like
Then he laughed.
“Let's see how long you keep her.”
