Chapter 7 - THE DAUGHTER I NEVER KNEW EXISTED
I was still fighting to keep one baby alive inside me when I discovered I might already have a daughter.
Somewhere in Chicago.
With a man connected to an attempt on my life.
I stared at the photograph of Sophia holding the newborn.
Tiny face.
Dark hair.
Pink blanket.
My heart did something I couldn’t explain.
Was she mine?
Biologically?
Emotionally?
Legally?
I didn’t know.
But she was innocent.
That was enough.
Detective Bennett coordinated with child protection authorities and other investigators.
Vincent, still recovering from his injury, provided information about Bellini properties.
Not orders.
Information.
That distinction mattered.
He wasn’t leading a war.
He was cooperating with people who could legally find the baby.
I watched from my hospital room.
No private men.
No revenge.
No violence.
Vincent was finally choosing a path that didn’t require fear.
Maybe too late for us.
But not too late for a child.
Hours passed.
My bleeding slowed.
The pregnancy remained viable.
Then, shortly after midnight, Detective Bennett entered.
“They found the baby.”
I covered my mouth.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
I began crying.
“Is she okay?”
“She appears stable. She’s being evaluated.”
Relief washed through me.
Then Bennett continued.
“Victor Bellini was arrested.”
Caroline exhaled.
I closed my eyes.
For one second, the room felt peaceful.
Then the detective said:
“We also found documents.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“Records from the fertility clinic.”
Dr. Pierce returned.
Independent genetic testing was arranged through proper legal channels.
Nobody rushed.
Nobody made assumptions.
I hated waiting.
But truth required patience.
Two days later, Dr. Pierce entered with the results.
He sat beside me.
“Claire.”
My hands started shaking.
“The baby?”
“The infant is genetically related to both you and Vincent.”
I stopped breathing.
Caroline covered her mouth.
My daughter.
A child created from our embryo had been carried and delivered by Sophia without my knowledge.
I began sobbing.
Not joy.
Not exactly.
Grief.
Violation.
Wonder.
Rage.
Everything at once.
“What happens now?”
I whispered.
A family-law attorney explained that custody and parentage would require careful legal proceedings.
The child’s safety came first.
So did my recovery.
Nothing would be decided by Vincent’s power.
Nothing by Sophia’s manipulation.
The courts would handle it.
That was the right answer.
Then my attorney placed another document on the table.
Sophia had signed a private agreement before the embryo transfer.
One witness.
Elena Walsh.
One payer.
An offshore company.
Owner:
Vincent Moretti.
My blood went cold.
I stared at the name.
“No.”
The attorney looked grave.
“The company was controlled through several layers.”
I could barely breathe.
“Did Vincent pay for this?”
Nobody answered.
Then the hospital door opened.
Vincent stood outside.
Pale.
Bandaged.
His eyes found the document in my hand.
May you like
And his face collapsed.
Because he recognized the company.
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