Chapter 2 - THE MAN WHO KNEW BEFORE THE FATHER
Roman called Carlo immediately.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
That alone was wrong.
Carlo Moretti answered Roman’s calls at funerals, interrogations, surgeries, and once during his own wedding reception.
He did not ignore Roman.
Not unless he wanted to.
Norah watched him.
“You said he was behind you at the airport.”
“He was.”
“So he saw me board?”
“No. He never came down the jet bridge.”
Roman’s mind moved fast.
Carlo had remained at the gate.
Could he have accessed the passenger list?
Easily.
Could he know Norah had twins?
If someone had been monitoring her medical records, yes.
But Roman did not want to believe that.
Carlo had been nineteen when Roman’s father died.
He practically helped raise Roman afterward.
He taught him to drive.
Taught him how to shoot.
Taught him how to survive men who smiled while planning funerals.
Norah shifted Grace against her chest.
“Roman.”
“What?”
“You’re defending him in your head.”
He looked at her sharply.
She almost smiled.
“I used to know your face.”
That hurt.
He leaned back.
“You still do.”
“No.”
Her eyes softened.
“I know the man you were twelve months ago.”
The distinction was deliberate.
Then a flight attendant approached.
“Sir, we need your phone in airplane mode.”
Roman looked at the screen.
Carlo still hadn’t answered.
He switched modes.
For once, he obeyed someone who made eighteen dollars an hour without buying the airline.
Norah noticed.
Said nothing.
The plane lifted.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Elias began fussing.
Norah bounced him.
Grace woke too.
Within thirty seconds, both babies were crying.
Roman watched helplessly.
“Do they always do this?”
Norah gave him an exhausted look.
“No. Usually they coordinate with military precision.”
He almost smiled.
Then Elias coughed.
Norah’s expression changed immediately.
She lifted him upright.
Roman leaned forward.
“What?”
“He’s okay.”
“That did not look okay.”
“He has a small heart defect.”
Roman went still.
“What?”
“Doctors found it after he was born.”
“You were alone?”
“Yes.”
“You handled that alone?”
“Yes.”
His anger rose.
Not at her.
At himself.
At everyone.
At twelve lost months.
“Who is his cardiologist?”
“Dr. Levenson.”
“Where?”
“Denver.”
Roman froze.
Norah saw it.
“What?”
“You’re flying to Denver because of Elias?”
“Yes.”
“My lieutenant was shot in Denver today.”
Her face changed.
“That’s why you’re going?”
“Yes.”
They stared at one another.
Two separate emergencies.
Same city.
Same night.
Roman’s stomach turned cold.
“Who arranged Elias’s appointment?”
Norah frowned.
“A foundation.”
“What foundation?”
“I don’t know. The clinic said an anonymous donor covered everything after insurance.”
Roman’s voice dropped.
“What was the name on the payment?”
Norah thought.
“Something Moretti.”
Roman stopped breathing.
“The Moretti Family Foundation?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Norah’s eyes widened.
“You didn’t pay it?”
“No.”
Roman had not even known Elias existed.
Only two people had authority to approve anonymous foundation payments without Roman’s signature.
Carlo.
And Roman’s aunt, Teresa.
Then Roman’s screen lit briefly despite airplane mode.
A previously queued message from Carlo appeared.
IF YOU LOVE THEM, DO NOT LET THE TRUST SEE THEM.
Norah whispered:
“What trust?”
May you like
Roman looked at the children.
For the first time in years, the feared head of the Moretti family did not know.
