Chapter 2 - THE NAME I BURIED
Liam noticed my expression immediately.
“Who is it?”
“No one.”
He reached for the phone.
I pulled it away.
“Emma.”
“I said no one.”
His jaw tightened.
He rarely pushed me.
That was one reason I trusted him more than almost anyone.
But this time he didn't move.
“You're shaking.”
I looked at the message again.
There was no name.
No number I recognized.
Just those words.
Your parents.
Nobody had spoken about my parents in years.
Not since the fire.
Not since the night my life changed forever.
I was eleven when my father died.
My mother survived another six months.
At least, that's what I had always been told.
The official story was simple.
My father, Daniel Hart, had worked as a financial controller for a construction company owned by the Vitali family.
He discovered accounting irregularities.
Three days later, the warehouse where he worked caught fire.
The investigation called it an electrical accident.
My father died inside.
My mother never recovered from the loss.
Six months later, she died in a car accident.
I became an orphan.
A distant aunt took me in.
And eventually, I stopped using my real name.
Elizabeth Hart disappeared.
Emma Hart became easier.
Safer.
Nobody knew that my father had spent his final months terrified.
Nobody knew that two nights before the fire, he had hidden a small metal key inside my teddy bear.
Nobody knew that I still had it.
Except perhaps the person who had just messaged me.
I locked my phone.
“I need to go to work.”
Liam stared at me.
“You're pregnant.”
“I know.”
“Does he know?”
I swallowed.
“No.”
“Alessandro?”
I looked at him.
He had said the name softly.
Almost painfully.
“You knew?”
“I knew you were seeing someone.”
“Once.”
“Once is enough.”
I sat down.
“I didn't plan this.”
“I know.”
“He doesn't know who I am.”
“Who are you?”
I looked toward the window.
Snow had started falling outside.
“My real name is Elizabeth.”
Liam went still.
“Elizabeth Hart?”
I nodded.
He had heard the name.
Everyone in Chicago's financial world had.
My father's death had once been connected to one of the biggest corporate scandals involving the Vitali family.
The scandal had disappeared from newspapers almost overnight.
So had the evidence.
So had my father.
Liam sat beside me.
“What happened at that gala?”
I told him everything.
Almost everything.
I didn't tell him how much I had wanted Alessandro.
That felt too dangerous.
Instead, I said, “I need to stay away from him.”
Liam looked at my stomach.
“That may become difficult.”
My phone rang.
This time, the number belonged to Alessandro.
I stared at it.
Liam said nothing.
I answered.
“Hello?”
His voice came through low and calm.
“Emma.”
My heart jumped.
“Yes?”
“I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”
“I did.”
A pause.
Then:
“I've been thinking about you.”
I closed my eyes.
“Alessandro…”
“I know.”
“What?”
“You don't have to explain.”
I almost laughed.
If only he knew.
He continued.
“I'd like to see you again.”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Silence.
“Is that because you regret that night?”
I touched my stomach.
“Yes.”
Another silence.
Then he said something that made my chest ache.
“I don't.”
I hung up.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
At 2:13 a.m., I heard something scrape against the front door.
I woke Liam.
He grabbed a baseball bat.
We moved silently through the hallway.
A white envelope lay beneath the door.
No footsteps.
No car outside.
Just the envelope.
Inside was an old photograph.
My father stood beside another man.
The man was younger.
But unmistakable.
Alessandro's father.
Matteo Vitali.
On the back, someone had written:
Your father didn't die because of the money.
Below that:
He died because he trusted the wrong person.
I turned the photograph over again.
There was one final line.
Ask Alessandro what happened to the Hart files.
I couldn't breathe.
May you like
Because suddenly, my unborn child wasn't the only reason I needed Alessandro.
He might be the only person who could tell me why my parents died.
