Chapter 5 - THE CAR OUTSIDE HANNAH’S BUILDING
We had six minutes before the black sedan appeared.
Vanessa saw it first.
“That’s his.”
Hannah grabbed her daughter from the bedroom.
I looked through the curtain.
A dark Mercedes stopped across the street.
Nobody got out.
Adrien was still on speaker.
“Use the rear staircase.”
“What about Hannah?”
“Take her.”
“I’m not dragging her child into this.”
“You already have company downstairs.”
Hannah was putting shoes on eight-year-old Sophie.
“I’m going to my sister’s. Don’t argue.”
A second vehicle stopped behind the Mercedes.
Vanessa swore.
Adrien gave instructions rapidly.
“There’s a service alley behind the building. A gray SUV will reach you in three minutes.”
“Your people?”
“Yes.”
“How do I know?”
“Driver’s name is Daniel Ross. Ask him what you ordered on our first date.”
Despite everything, my throat tightened.
Only Adrien knew.
I had been so nervous I ordered tomato soup at an Italian restaurant famous for handmade pasta.
Two minutes later we slipped into the alley.
A gray SUV turned the corner.
The driver lowered his window.
“Mrs. Moretti?”
“What did I order on my first date?”
He almost smiled.
“Tomato soup. Mr. Moretti claims he knew then you were going to ruin his life.”
For one painful second, I remembered laughing with Adrien in that restaurant until midnight.
Then a man appeared at the end of the alley.
“Move!” Vanessa shouted.
We climbed inside.
The SUV accelerated.
The Mercedes followed.
Daniel drove through Brooklyn traffic while Adrien stayed on the phone, tracking us through Daniel’s secure line.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere Luca doesn’t know.”
“I’m not going back to the penthouse.”
“I know.”
“Adrien—”
“I know, Elena.”
He sounded different.
Not commanding.
Defeated.
“I’m not asking you to come home.”
That hurt more than I expected.
Twenty minutes later we entered the underground garage of an anonymous brick building near Brooklyn Heights.
Adrien was waiting.
He looked like he had not slept.
No tie.
Shirt sleeves rolled.
My pharmacy receipt still folded in his hand.
His eyes went immediately to my stomach.
I hated how much emotion crossed his face.
Joy.
Fear.
Regret.
Then he looked at me.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
He took one step toward me.
I stepped back.
Adrien stopped.
The pain on his face was brief but unmistakable.
Vanessa handed him the silver drive.
“Whatever your father hid is on this.”
Adrien inserted it into an offline laptop inside the safe apartment.
One encrypted document appeared.
MORETTI SUCCESSION PROTOCOL.
He opened it.
We expected financial instructions.
Instead, the first page contained a photograph of a woman holding a newborn.
Adrien stared at it.
“That’s my mother.”
The infant wasn’t Adrien.
The date was three years before his birth.
Under the photograph was a handwritten sentence from Adrien’s father.
MY FIRST SON MUST NEVER KNOW WHO HE IS.
Adrien slowly looked at me.
“Luca isn’t my younger brother.”
Vanessa scrolled to the next page.
“No.”
May you like
Her face went pale.
“He’s your older brother.”
