Chapter 6 - The Greenhouse File
The rain hit Emma’s face hard enough to sting.
She ran anyway.
Not quickly.
Not gracefully.
Thirty weeks pregnant did not allow either.
But she moved with the stubborn speed of someone who had spent seven months being told where she was allowed to exist.
“Emma!”
Alexander’s shout came from the driveway.
She ignored it.
Marcus slipped through the greenhouse doors.
Emma followed.
Warm, wet air wrapped around her instantly.
Rows of citrus trees and winter roses stretched beneath fogged glass panels. Water ticked from leaves onto stone.
Marcus stood at the far end beside a potting table.
The black folder lay in front of him.
He was unarmed.
At least visibly.
“You shouldn’t have come alone,” Emma said.
Marcus smiled.
“You’re not alone.”
The greenhouse doors slammed behind her.
Alexander appeared through the glass a second later and found them locked.
He hit the frame once with his shoulder.
Marcus did not even look back.
“Seven months ago,” he said, “you asked me why Alexander wanted you gone.”
Emma’s palms went damp.
“You lied.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because Damien paid me.”
The bluntness threw her.
Marcus opened the folder.
“But he did not pay me to kill you.”
“Then why the warehouse?”
“To make you disappear.”
“You locked me in a room.”
“To make it convincing.”
“You told me Alexander ordered it.”
“To keep you from going back.”
Emma stared at him.
Alexander struck the glass again.
A crack spread from the doorframe.
Marcus watched it.
“He always did prefer force after patience failed.”
Emma stepped closer to the table.
“What is in the file?”
“The reason Damien cannot leave the country.”
“His plane is going to Montreal.”
“No. His plane is.”
Marcus smiled faintly.
“Damien isn’t on it.”
Of course he wasn’t.
Emma’s mind raced.
“Where is he?”
Marcus tapped the folder.
“You’ll figure it out.”
“Why help me now?”
Marcus’s smile disappeared.
“Because I thought I was helping before.”
He looked toward the burning east wing.
“Damien told me Vittorio intended to take your baby after birth and trigger the trust without you. He showed me documents. He showed me messages from Alexander’s account.”
“Forged.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know that then?”
“No.”
Emma’s voice hardened.
“You still kidnapped me.”
“Yes.”
“You left a pregnant woman in a warehouse.”
“I did not know you were pregnant until later.”
She stared at him.
“That is supposed to help?”
“No.”
For once, he looked ashamed.
“I am not asking you to forgive me.”
Behind Emma, the glass door shattered.
Alexander came through first, Luca behind him.
Marcus raised both hands.
Alexander crossed the space in three strides and drove him against the table.
“Where is Damien?”
Marcus coughed.
“Still asking the wrong question.”
Alexander tightened his grip.
Emma snapped, “Stop.”
He did.
Not because Marcus asked.
Because she did.
Emma opened the black folder.
Inside were copies of wire transfers, trust amendments, hospital nursery logs, and a photograph of her mother taken twenty years earlier.
Rebecca stood beside a much younger Vittorio Moretti.
Between them was a third man.
Emma recognized him.
Her father.
Thomas Carter had supposedly died in a construction accident when Emma was six.
On the back of the photograph someone had written:
REBECCA + THOMAS / PORT 17 / ORIGINAL KEY HOLDERS.
Emma’s hands shook.
“What does key holders mean?”
Marcus answered.
“Your mother and father built the encryption system for Enzo’s hidden accounts.”
Alexander released him slowly.
Marcus rubbed his throat.
“The money Damien has been moving is old Moretti money. Untaxed, unreported, dirty enough to destroy every legitimate company the family owns.”
Vittorio entered the greenhouse behind Luca.
He saw the photograph.
His face went rigid.
Emma held it up.
“My father was part of this?”
Vittorio did not answer.
She shouted.
“My father was part of this?”
“Yes.”
The word echoed against glass.
Emma’s chest tightened.
“He died when I was six.”
Vittorio looked at Marcus.
Marcus looked away.
Emma understood before anyone spoke.
“No.”
Vittorio’s voice was quiet.
“Thomas Carter did not die when you were six.”
Emma stumbled backward.
Alexander caught her elbow.
She yanked it free.
“Where is he?”
Vittorio’s eyes held hers.
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I lost track of him fourteen years ago.”
Marcus spoke.
“Damien didn’t.”
Everyone turned.
Marcus pointed to a transfer sheet.
“Those payments? They are not to shell companies. They are to one person using rotating identities.”
Alexander scanned the page.
“Who?”
Marcus looked at Emma.
“Thomas Carter.”
Emma’s vision blurred at the edges.
Her father was alive.
Her mother had lied.
Or had been forced to.
The world she understood was collapsing so quickly she no longer knew which grief belonged to which year.
A siren wailed outside.
Then Luca’s phone rang.
He answered, listened, and swore.
“Damien just entered Northwestern Memorial Hospital.”
Emma’s head snapped up.
Dr. Nolan was standing in the driveway.
Her medical chart had been hacked.
Her fake induction had been scheduled for six in the morning.
Alexander looked at Emma.
“He thinks we’ll go there for the paternity test.”
Marcus shook his head.
“No.”
He tapped a hospital nursery log inside the file.
“He isn’t waiting for the baby.”
Alexander’s eyes narrowed.
“What is he waiting for?”
Marcus looked at Vittorio.
May you like
“The man who switched the babies thirty-two years ago.”
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