Chapter 3 - Victor Kane’s Daughter
Adrian did not move.
Neither did anyone else.
Lily remained curled against Claire, unaware that five words had just rearranged every adult assumption in the room.
For his child.
Adrian looked at the little girl.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
Tiny fingers wrapped around a battered stuffed rabbit.
Then back at Claire.
“You’re saying Victor Kane is Lily’s father.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“And he offered you money to give her to him.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“When she was four months old.”
Adrian’s voice stayed controlled.
“Start at the beginning.”
Claire glanced toward the door.
“I don’t know who I can trust.”
“You’re in my house.”
“I know.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
For the first time since waking, something almost like anger appeared in her face.
“With respect, Mr. Moretti, someone drugged me inside your house.”
The room went silent.
Marco’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
Most employees would rather insult a judge than speak to Adrian Moretti that way.
Adrian did not react.
Because she was right.
“Then tell me who you trust.”
Claire looked at Michael.
“The doctor.”
Adrian nodded once.
“Michael stays.”
She looked at Adrian.
“And you.”
Marco immediately started toward the door before being told.
Adrian stopped him.
“Marco, outside. Nobody enters.”
Marco nodded and left.
Michael moved toward the far side of the room, giving Claire the illusion of privacy while remaining close enough to monitor her.
Lily yawned.
Claire looked down.
“Honey, can you lie beside me?”
“I’m not tired.”
“You’re falling asleep sitting up.”
“No, I’m not.”
Her eyes closed halfway through the sentence.
Claire kissed her forehead.
“Just rest.”
Lily resisted for approximately twelve seconds before collapsing against the pillow, rabbit beneath her chin.
Claire waited until her daughter’s breathing became steady.
Then she spoke.
“I met Victor when I was twenty-two.”
Adrian said nothing.
“He wasn’t what he is now. Or maybe he was and I didn’t know.”
“What did you think he was?”
“A businessman.”
Adrian’s mouth almost moved.
Everyone in Chicago called Victor Kane a businessman.
The fact that nobody could clearly explain what business he operated was considered impolite rather than suspicious.
Claire continued.
“I worked at a private event company. We handled charity dinners, corporate receptions, political fundraisers. Victor was at almost every major event that year.”
“He pursued you.”
“Yes.”
“You knew he was married?”
“Not at first.”
Adrian’s expression hardened.
Claire saw it.
“The moment I found out, I ended it.”
“How long were you together?”
“Four months.”
“And you were pregnant.”
“I didn’t know until after.”
“Did you tell him?”
“Yes.”
“That was your first mistake.”
Claire’s eyes flashed.
“I know that now.”
Adrian accepted the correction without comment.
“What happened?”
“At first, he was calm. He said he wanted to help. He paid for a doctor. Offered me an apartment.”
“And?”
“I refused.”
“Why?”
“Because he didn’t want to help me.”
Claire looked toward sleeping Lily.
“He wanted control.”
Adrian understood the distinction intimately.
“After Lily was born, Victor came to the hospital.”
“Alone?”
“With an attorney.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“He brought papers?”
“Custody documents. Financial agreements. Confidentiality clauses.”
“And two hundred thousand dollars.”
“That came later.”
Claire rubbed her forehead.
“He told me his wife could never know. He was building political relationships. He had investors. A child outside his marriage would be inconvenient.”
“So he wanted Lily gone.”
“At first.”
Adrian heard the phrase.
“At first?”
Claire’s hands tightened on the blanket.
“Four months later, something changed.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“Guess.”
“I think his wife discovered she couldn’t have children.”
Adrian went silent.
Claire nodded.
“Suddenly Victor wanted Lily. Not publicly as his daughter. He wanted me to sign over guardianship to a private trust. He claimed she would be raised by ‘people who could provide opportunities I couldn’t.’”
“That sounds like him.”
“I said no.”
“What did he do?”
“He offered money.”
“You said no.”
“Yes.”
“He increased it.”
“Yes.”
“How high?”
Claire hesitated.
“One million.”
Michael looked over.
Adrian remained expressionless.
“And when money failed?”
“He stopped asking nicely.”
There it was.
The part Adrian had been waiting for.
“Threats?”
“First my job disappeared.”
Claire’s voice had become strangely calm.
“Then my landlord suddenly refused to renew my lease. Then someone broke into our apartment but stole nothing.”
Adrian’s eyes darkened.
“Police?”
“They said there was no proof it was connected.”
“Were they wrong?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
Claire looked at him.
“Because the person left a white chess knight on Lily’s crib.”
Adrian’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But Claire noticed.
“You know what that means.”
It wasn’t a question.
Adrian stood very still.
Victor Kane had used chess pieces for years.
Not publicly.
Not often.
But in private negotiations, a white knight left on a desk or inside a package carried one meaning.
Move willingly.
Or be moved.
“How many times?”
“Three.”
“The chess piece?”
“Three different homes.”
Adrian stared at her.
“You moved three times?”
“Seven.”
Something uncomfortable passed through Michael’s expression.
Claire continued.
“We used my mother’s last name. Then an old friend’s address. Then a women’s shelter in Wisconsin. Then Indianapolis.”
“How did you end up here?”
“Victor found us in Indianapolis last year.”
“Did he see Lily?”
“No.”
“But you knew.”
“He left the rabbit.”
Adrian looked down at the stuffed animal beside the child.
Claire immediately shook her head.
“Not that rabbit. Another one. New. Expensive. Sitting outside our apartment door.”
“What was inside it?”
“A recording device.”
Michael muttered something under his breath.
Claire’s voice cracked slightly.
“I realized running wasn’t working.”
“So you came to Chicago.”
“Yes.”
“Closer to Victor.”
“Closer to you.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
Claire held his gaze.
“I researched everyone Victor avoided.”
That almost amused him.
“Interesting list?”
“Shorter than you’d think.”
“And I was on it.”
“You were at the top.”
“Why?”
“Because you were the only man in Chicago Victor never insulted publicly, never threatened privately, and never tried to buy.”
Adrian leaned against the dresser.
“Perhaps he likes me.”
Claire gave him a look that might have become a laugh in another life.
“I don’t think anyone likes you that much.”
Michael coughed to disguise something suspiciously close to laughter.
Adrian ignored him.
“So you applied for a job under my roof.”
“Yes.”
“You lied on your background check.”
“Yes.”
“That bothers me.”
“I assumed it would.”
“You gave a false employment history.”
“Yes.”
“False address.”
“Yes.”
“False references.”
Claire hesitated.
“Two of them were real.”
Adrian stared at her.
She lifted one shoulder weakly.
“I didn’t want to be completely dishonest.”
Michael turned his face away.
Adrian almost smiled.
Almost.
Then his expression hardened again.
“You could have told me.”
“I didn’t know you.”
“You worked in my home for eight months.”
“That doesn’t mean I know you.”
“No.”
He looked toward Lily.
“But your daughter walked through a dark mansion and knocked on my door.”
Claire’s eyes softened involuntarily.
“She shouldn’t have.”
“She saved your life.”
Claire looked at Lily.
“I know.”
Adrian pushed away from the dresser.
“What happened three days ago?”
Claire’s head snapped toward him.
He continued.
“Victor came to my office.”
She went pale.
“You met him?”
“He asked me for something.”
“What?”
“A partnership.”
Claire’s breathing changed.
Adrian noticed.
“He wanted access to one of my logistics companies.”
“No.”
The word came out too fast.
“Why?”
“You can’t.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Claire swallowed.
“You can’t give Victor access to your shipping infrastructure.”
Adrian’s voice sharpened.
“Why?”
“Because that’s what this is about.”
“What is?”
“He doesn’t want Lily anymore.”
Adrian stared at her.
Claire’s eyes filled with terror.
“He wants what I stole from him.”
Before Adrian could answer, his phone vibrated.
Daniel.
He answered.
“Speak.”
“We found Jason Pike.”
Adrian looked toward the hallway.
“Where?”
“In the old boiler room beneath the west wing.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Bring him upstairs.”
“He can’t walk.”
Adrian’s expression darkened.
“Why?”
“Someone beat him nearly unconscious.”
Claire stared at Adrian.
Daniel continued.
“And there’s something else.”
“What?”
“He had this taped beneath his shirt.”
Adrian waited.
“A photograph.”
“Of what?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Claire and Lily.”
Claire covered her mouth.
Adrian’s voice went cold.
“When was it taken?”
“Yesterday.”
Claire looked toward the window.
Yesterday she had taken Lily to a public library forty minutes from the estate.
She had changed trains twice.
She had used cash.
No one should have known.
Daniel spoke again.
“Boss, the photo has writing on the back.”
“Read it.”
Another hesitation.
Then Daniel did.
“‘Midnight was your warning. Dawn is mine.’”
Adrian looked at the digital clock beside Claire’s bed.
1:48 a.m.
Four hours until sunrise.
He ended the call.
Claire whispered, “He’s here.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Yes, we do.”
Adrian turned toward her.
Claire’s voice trembled.
“Victor never threatens from far away.”
Adrian stared at her for several seconds.
Then he walked to the doorway.
Marco straightened.
“Wake the second security team.”
“They’re already up.”
“Arm every gate station.”
Marco’s face hardened.
Adrian continued.
“Thermal sweep of the property. Roofs, tunnels, tree line, utility road. Nobody moves alone.”
“What about the staff?”
“Move them to the central ballroom.”
Claire sat up too quickly.
“Adrian.”
It was the first time she had called him anything but Mr. Moretti.
He turned.
She looked frightened.
“Victor isn’t coming through the gate.”
Adrian’s gaze narrowed.
“No?”
She shook her head.
“He’s already inside.”
A thunderous boom shook the far side of the estate.
The lights went black.
May you like
Lily woke screaming.
And somewhere beneath the mansion, the fire alarms began to howl.
