Chapter 2 - Only His Mother Could Do That
I laughed.
It wasn't because anything was funny.
It was the kind of laugh your body makes when the alternative is screaming.
“No.”
Dominic said nothing.
“No,” I repeated.
Leo remained asleep against me.
The restaurant existed around us, but it felt distant now—the music, the glasses, the whispers from customers pretending not to stare.
I closed the locket.
“My sister died.”
“That's what your mother told you.”
“My mother wouldn't lie about something like that.”
Dominic's expression tightened.
“People lie about worse.”
I looked at him sharply.
“You don't know my mother.”
“No.”
“Then don't talk about her.”
One of his guards shifted forward.
Dominic raised one hand without looking away from me.
The guard stopped.
It was the first indication I had that Dominic Moretti was accustomed to people reacting when he moved a finger.
He lowered his hand.
“You're right.”
The apology surprised me.
“I don't know your mother.”
“She's dead.”
His gaze softened almost imperceptibly.
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
“I'm sorry.”
I almost laughed again.
Dominic Moretti apologizing for my mother's death while telling me his dead wife might have been my twin sister was too absurd for my mind to process.
I tried handing Leo back.
The second Dominic's arms came near him, Leo woke.
His eyes opened.
He saw his father.
Then his face crumpled.
“No, no,” I whispered.
Leo grabbed my blouse tighter.
Dominic stopped.
The pain that crossed his face lasted less than a second.
But I saw it.
“He doesn't want me.”
“He's sleepy.”
“He hasn't wanted anyone for eleven months.”
“That isn't the same thing.”
Dominic looked toward the portrait again.
“No. It isn't.”
Victor appeared beside us.
He looked as if he wanted to be anywhere else on earth.
“Elina?”
I turned.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Do you need—”
“Yes.”
Victor waited.
“I don't know what I need.”
He nodded quickly.
Dominic pulled out his phone.
“I want a DNA test.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
He looked surprised.
“You don't want to know?”
“I want to know what is happening before I start giving biological samples to strangers.”
“Fair.”
Again, he was calmer than I expected.
I had imagined men like Dominic Moretti didn't hear the word no.
Apparently he did.
He simply studied it as though deciding what to do with it.
“Then we verify another way first.”
“How?”
“Records.”
“What records?”
“Birth records. Hospital documents. Your mother's history.”
“My mother was a nurse.”
Dominic's focus sharpened.
“Where?”
“Different hospitals.”
“Which one when you were born?”
“I don't know.”
“You never asked?”
“I was a baby.”
His mouth almost moved.
Almost.
“You know what I mean.”
“My mother hated talking about the past.”
“What was her first name?”
I hesitated.
“Marisol.”
“Marisol Valdez?”
“Yes.”
Something changed in the face of the older bodyguard.
Dominic noticed.
“Rafael?”
The man stepped closer.
He was perhaps fifty, silver beginning at his temples.
“You recognize the name?” Dominic asked.
Rafael looked at me.
Then back at Dominic.
“I might.”
“Might?”
Rafael hesitated.
“In the months before Elena died, she asked me to locate a woman named Marisol Valdez.”
Every part of me went cold.
“What?”
Dominic turned fully toward him.
“You never told me that.”
“Mrs. Moretti asked me not to.”
Dominic's voice became dangerously quiet.
“My wife was searching for someone and you didn't tell me?”
“She said it was personal.”
“And after she died?”
“I searched. Marisol Valdez had already passed away.”
I could barely breathe.
“Why was Elena looking for my mother?”
Rafael looked uncomfortable.
“I don't know.”
“You must know something.”
“She believed Marisol was connected to her birth.”
Dominic turned toward me.
The silence between us grew heavier.
I touched the locket.
“How long before Elena died?”
“About six weeks.”
My stomach dropped.
Six weeks.
My supposed sister had been searching for my mother six weeks before her death.
And I had known nothing.
“What happened to Elena?” I asked.
Dominic's eyes changed.
Not anger.
Not exactly.
A door closing.
“Car accident.”
“Was she alone?”
“Yes.”
“Was anyone else involved?”
“The official report said she lost control during a storm.”
“Official?”
Dominic's jaw hardened.
Rafael looked at the floor.
I understood immediately.
“You don't believe the report.”
Dominic did not answer.
That was answer enough.
Leo moved in my arms.
His fingers found the locket again.
He pulled gently.
The silver chain stretched.
“Careful, sweetheart.”
The word left my mouth before I thought about it.
Dominic looked at me.
I looked away.
“This is insane.”
“Yes.”
“I need to go home.”
“I'll drive you.”
“No.”
“Elina.”
“No offense, but arriving at my apartment with two men who look like they guard presidents would create questions.”
One guard looked faintly offended.
The other looked amused.
Dominic didn't.
“You shouldn't go alone.”
“Why?”
His silence irritated me.
“Why, Dominic?”
It was the first time I used his name.
Something flickered in his expression.
“Because if Elena was investigating her birth before she died, and you are her sister, then someone else may know.”
“Someone?”
“I don't know.”
“That's comforting.”
“I'm not trying to comfort you.”
“I noticed.”
He reached into his jacket.
I instinctively stepped backward.
He stopped.
Then slowly removed a business card.
Black.
No logo.
Only a phone number.
“Take this.”
I stared at it.
“Your business card looks threatening.”
One of the guards coughed.
Dominic looked at him.
The man immediately regained perfect seriousness.
I took the card.
“I'll call if I decide I want answers.”
“You already want answers.”
“You're very confident.”
“I recognize obsession.”
I looked at the portrait.
Maybe he did.
Leo was still sleeping.
“What about him?”
Dominic's face softened.
“He comes with me.”
“I know.”
But Leo tightened his arms around me when Dominic approached.
This time, instead of forcing him, Dominic stopped.
He looked almost defeated.
“Give him a minute.”
I sat in an empty booth.
Dominic sat across from me.
For five strange minutes, the most feared man in the restaurant watched while I held his sleeping child.
No one spoke.
Eventually, Leo's grip loosened.
I carefully transferred him.
He whimpered but didn't wake.
Dominic held him against his chest.
For a moment, I saw something entirely different from the man people whispered about.
A father who had been alone too long.
He looked down at his son.
Then up at me.
“Thank you.”
I nodded.
I removed my apron.
Victor appeared.
“You're leaving?”
“I think I just discovered I had a sister who married a man half the city is scared of.”
Victor thought about that.
“Good point.”
I collected my bag from the staff room.
When I returned, Dominic stood near the entrance.
The rain outside had intensified.
“Elina.”
I stopped.
He gestured toward Rafael.
“Let him drive you.”
“I said no.”
“Then let him follow you.”
“That sounds worse.”
“It isn't negotiable.”
I stared at him.
“There he is.”
“Who?”
“The terrifying person everyone warned me about.”
For the first time, Dominic almost smiled.
It vanished before I was certain it had happened.
“Rafael follows at a distance.”
I wanted to argue.
Then I remembered Elena had been investigating my mother before dying in a questionable accident.
“Fine.”
Outside, the rain was cold.
I walked three blocks to the subway entrance.
A black sedan remained half a block behind.
I hated that I was relieved.
By the time I reached my apartment, my hands were shaking.
I locked the door.
Then locked it again.
My apartment suddenly seemed too small.
Too full of ghosts.
My mother's old belongings still occupied the top shelf of my bedroom closet.
I had never been able to throw them away.
At midnight, I pulled down the cardboard box.
Photographs.
Old nursing certificates.
Christmas cards.
Letters.
Receipts.
Nothing.
Then I found an envelope taped beneath the bottom flap.
My name was written across it.
ELINA.
My mother's handwriting.
I stared at it for nearly a minute.
My fingers trembled as I opened it.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
The first sentence made the room disappear around me.
My darling Elina, if you are reading this, then Elena has found you.
I stopped breathing.
The letter continued.
And if Elena found you, then I failed to keep the two of you apart.
There were more words below.
But I couldn't read them.
Not yet.
Because my phone started ringing.
Unknown number.
I answered without thinking.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a man's voice said:
“You should have left the photograph alone.”
The line went dead.
And for the first time that night, I understood Dominic had been right about one thing.
May you like
Someone else knew exactly who I was.
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