Chapter 1 - The Name That Made a Billionaire Tremble
Richard Sinclair had negotiated billion-dollar deals without blinking, but the sight of Abigail Foster standing beside Matteo Romano made his hand tremble around his champagne glass.
Nobody noticed except his daughter.
"Dad?" Vanessa whispered.
Richard didn't answer.
Across the ballroom, Isabella Romano was crying openly.
"I remember you," Isabella told Abigail. "You stayed with me until they took me into surgery."
Abigail pressed a trembling hand against her belly.
"I was only trying to help."
"You saved my life."
Abigail shook her head.
"The doctors saved you. I just donated blood."
Matteo looked at her with an expression she couldn't understand.
For years, he'd imagined finding the stranger who helped his little sister survive. He'd pictured a wealthy donor, perhaps someone connected to the hospital.
Instead, she was standing before him in an inexpensive black uniform, seven months pregnant, with a red handprint on her cheek.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" he asked.
"I'm fine."
A sharp pain crossed Abigail's lower abdomen.
She stopped speaking.
Matteo noticed immediately.
"Abigail?"
"It's nothing. My baby just moved."
Isabella stepped closer.
"Please sit down."
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
"Oh, for heaven's sake. She's pregnant, not dying."
Matteo turned toward her.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"Vanessa, you will not speak to her again."
Vanessa's mouth fell open.
"My father helped finance this entire event!"
"And I own the hotel," Matteo replied.
Richard finally approached.
"Matteo, perhaps we can resolve this privately."
Matteo looked at him.
"Your daughter assaulted one of my employees in front of two hundred witnesses. What's private about that?"
Richard forced a smile.
"Surely we don't need to make a spectacle."
"You should've considered that before allowing her to make one."
Abigail tried to step away.
"I really need to finish my shift."
Matteo looked at her.
"Your shift is over. You'll be paid for the evening, and I'll arrange medical care."
"I can't afford to lose this job."
"You're not losing it."
His voice softened.
"Nobody is going to punish you for what happened."
Then Richard Sinclair noticed Abigail's name tag.
His expression changed again.
"Foster," he murmured.
Abigail looked at him.
"Excuse me?"
Richard studied her face.
"Your mother's name wouldn't happen to be Evelyn Foster, would it?"
Abigail froze.
Evelyn Foster had died when Abigail was nineteen.
"How do you know my mother?"
Richard's champagne glass slipped from his fingers.
May you like
And when it shattered, he whispered something only Vanessa heard.
"That girl was never supposed to find us."
