Chapter 13 - THE DAUGHTER SOPHIA NEVER TOLD ANYONE ABOUT
Sophia arrived in Boston the next morning.
She looked terrified.
Vincent was waiting outside Emily’s procedure room.
The second he saw her, he stood.
“Who is she?”
Sophia stopped.
“Vincent…”
“Who is the girl?”
She started crying.
“Her name is Lily.”
“How old?”
“Seven.”
My stomach dropped.
Seven.
Born the same year as Lucas and Emily.
Impossible.
Unless—
Sophia shook her head.
“She’s not mine.”
Vincent stared.
“The registry says you’re her mother.”
“I’m listed as guardian.”
The hospital record had abbreviated it incorrectly.
“Then whose child is she?”
Sophia looked at me.
My blood turned cold.
“No.”
Sophia cried harder.
“She’s Caroline’s.”
“My aunt?”
I could barely speak.
Caroline Marsh had been my mother’s younger sister.
Unmarried.
No children.
At least, that was what I believed.
“Who is the father?”
Sophia looked at Vincent.
“Carlo.”
Silence.
Vincent’s legal father.
The man who had raised him.
Carlo had fathered a daughter shortly before his death.
That daughter was therefore technically Vincent’s legal half sister by family structure, though not biologically.
But the genetic mutation complicated everything.
Vincent frowned.
“If Carlo was negative, Lily couldn’t inherit the mutation from him.”
Sophia nodded.
“That’s why I came.”
“What are you saying?”
“Caroline lied about Lily’s father.”
I stared.
“Where is Caroline?”
“Chicago.”
“Why is Lily in a hereditary database under the Moretti family?”
Sophia took a breath.
“Because Caroline contacted Giovanni before he died.”
Vincent’s expression hardened.
“Did he test Lily?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Sophia handed him a letter.
Giovanni had written it.
Lily carries my mutation.
Carlo cannot be her father.
There is only one other possibility.
Vincent slowly looked up.
“No.”
Sophia whispered:
“Anthony.”
Anthony had fathered Lily with my aunt.
The same Anthony who had manipulated every branch of the family.
Another child hidden.
Another piece on his board.
“Did Anthony know?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Why hide her?”
“Because Lily’s existence proved his biological connection to Giovanni.”
Which would reveal the family scandal.
And potentially strengthen his claim.
I rubbed my temples.
“This family needs a flowchart.”
Vincent almost laughed.
Then the operating room doors opened.
The cardiologist approached.
My heart stopped.
“Emily?”
“She’s fine.”
I burst into tears.
Vincent caught my arm.
The doctor smiled.
“The procedure went perfectly.”
Everything else disappeared.
For several hours, the only thing that mattered was my daughter breathing safely.
Later, Emily woke.
Vincent sat beside her.
I stood near the window.
She looked between us.
“Did you guys fight?”
I laughed.
“No.”
“Good.”
She looked at Vincent.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Mom still loves you.”
I nearly dropped my coffee.
“Emily.”
“What?”
Vincent looked very interested.
I glared at him.
“Don’t.”
He immediately looked away.
Too late.
Emily smiled sleepily.
“She does.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she gets mad when people say you’re handsome.”
Vincent bit the inside of his cheek.
I pointed toward the hallway.
“Out.”
He stood.
“Of course.”
He reached the door.
Then turned.
“Claire?”
“What?”
“For the record, I also still love you.”
My heart stopped.
He left before I could answer.
Emily grinned.
“That was romantic.”
“You are heavily medicated.”
“I’m still right.”
That night, I found Vincent alone in the hospital chapel.
He looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
“For telling me you love me?”
“For putting you in a position where that matters.”
I sat beside him.
“You’ve changed.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not sure that fixes the past.”
“It doesn’t.”
“I’m not sure I can trust you completely.”
“I understand.”
“I’m still angry.”
“You should be.”
I looked at him.
“Stop agreeing with me.”
He smiled.
“No.”
For the first time in years, I laughed with him.
Then his phone rang.
Madison.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“What?”
I watched the color leave his face.
“What happened?”
He ended the call.
“Anthony was attacked in prison.”
“Is he dead?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Vincent looked at me.
“Before surgery, he gave investigators a statement.”
“About what?”
“A bank account.”
I sighed.
“Please tell me there isn’t another child.”
“No.”
“Thank God.”
His expression remained serious.
“He claims the account contains money stolen from Emily’s trust.”
“How much?”
“Over one hundred million.”
“Where?”
“Offshore.”
“Can we recover it?”
“Maybe.”
“What’s the catch?”
Vincent looked toward Emily’s room.
“The account can only be unlocked by the legal guardian Anthony registered seven years ago.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who?”
May you like
Vincent stared at me.
“Your mother.”
