Chapter 4 - THE MAN WHO CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD
Daniel was alive.
For five months, I had imagined him drinking on a beach, hiding from responsibility, or building a new life where neither I nor his unborn child mattered.
Somehow, learning he'd been alive enough to walk into that bank twenty-four hours earlier hurt even more.
“He knew I was pregnant,” I said.
Adrian remained silent.
“He knew, and he didn't come back.”
“We don't know why.”
“Stop protecting him.”
“I'm not.”
“Yes, you are.”
I shoved the photograph across the conference table.
“That's him.”
Adrian studied it.
Daniel looked thinner.
There was a bruise along his jaw.
But it was unmistakably him.
“What was he doing with Nathan's ID?” I asked.
“Probably trying to hide his movements.”
“Why access the box without taking the drive?”
Adrian stared at the image.
“Maybe the drive wasn't what he came for.”
We returned to Moretti's estate after the bank was locked down.
I spent the afternoon trying not to lose my mind.
At six, Adrian found me in the kitchen making grilled cheese.
His chef had offered to cook.
I had refused.
“Are you actually cooking?”
“I know. Terrifying.”
He leaned against the counter.
“You've barely eaten today.”
“Are you monitoring my sandwiches now?”
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
He didn't smile.
“You're serious.”
“Unfortunately.”
I turned back to the stove.
The baby kicked.
I froze.
Adrian noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Another kick.
Stronger.
My hand flew to my belly.
Adrian's expression changed.
“Is the baby okay?”
“He's kicking.”
“He?”
I nodded.
I'd never told anyone except my doctor.
“A boy.”
Something unexpectedly gentle crossed Adrian's face.
“Can I?”
The question stunned me.
He was looking at my stomach.
I hesitated.
Then took his hand.
His palm rested carefully against the curve beneath my sweater.
For several seconds, nothing happened.
Then the baby kicked.
Adrian went perfectly still.
A smile appeared.
Small.
Real.
It transformed him.
“There.”
“I felt it.”
“You look shocked.”
“I am.”
The baby kicked again.
Adrian laughed.
Actually laughed.
And suddenly Chicago's most feared man looked nothing like the stories told about him.
His eyes lifted to mine.
We were too close.
His hand was still against my belly.
My breath caught.
The moment stretched.
Then one of his men entered.
“Boss.”
Adrian stepped back.
“What happened?”
“We traced Reeves.”
My heart jumped.
“Where?”
“A motel near Joliet.”
“Is he there?”
“Was. Twenty minutes ago.”
Adrian grabbed his coat.
“I'll go.”
“So will I.”
“No.”
“Adrian—”
“Claire, someone may be hunting him.”
“He's the father of my child.”
His expression tightened.
That landed somewhere complicated between us.
Finally, he nodded.
The motel room was empty when we arrived.
But Daniel had left something behind.
A burner phone.
One message had been drafted but never sent.
To me.
CLAIRE, I KNOW YOU THINK I ABANDONED YOU. I DIDN'T. NATHAN FOUND OUT WHO I WAS. IF I COME NEAR YOU, HE'LL KNOW THE CHILD IS MINE.
Below that was another line.
THE PERSON HELPING NATHAN IS INSIDE MORETTI'S HOUSE.
I looked slowly toward Adrian.
May you like
Someone standing behind us moved.
And suddenly every gun in the room came up.
