Chapter 2 - The Name He Had No Right to Claim|
Dominic Russo had faced men who threatened to put bullets through his chest without feeling the kind of fear that now gripped him inside Room 304.
Dr. Harrison Mitchell stood beside Fiona's bed, waiting for him to leave.
But Dominic could not bring himself to move.
The ventilator continued its steady rhythm, filling the silence with a sound that seemed almost unbearable.
Five years ago, Fiona had begged him to tell her the truth.
Now he was standing beside her, desperate for a truth nobody was willing to give him.
"Please," Dominic said quietly.
"Just tell me if she has a chance."
Dr. Mitchell studied him for a moment.
"Her condition is serious, but we're doing everything medically appropriate to help her recover."
"Was it an accident?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Russo, but I can't discuss her medical history without authorization."
Dominic's head lifted.
"I never told you my last name."
The doctor glanced toward the corridor.
"Your security detail has been calling you Mr. Russo since you arrived."
Dominic almost smiled at the absurdity of being recognized everywhere except in the one place where recognition mattered.
His name could open private clubs, clear crowded restaurants, and make powerful men return telephone calls in the middle of the night.
But inside this hospital room, it gave him nothing.
He slowly stepped away from Fiona's bed.
Before leaving, he looked at her once more.
"I'm here, Fee," he whispered.
"I know that probably doesn't mean anything anymore."
He closed the door carefully behind him.
A woman was standing at the end of the corridor.
She appeared to be in her early forties, with dark blond hair tied into a loose knot and a faded denim jacket pulled over a gray sweatshirt.
She held a paper coffee cup that had already begun to collapse beneath the pressure of her fingers.
The moment she saw Dominic, her expression changed.
"No," she whispered.
Dominic recognized her immediately.
"Elena."
Elena Ellis had been Fiona's older sister, closest friend, and fiercest defender for as long as Dominic had known her.
Five years earlier, she had welcomed him into their family with homemade lasagna and a warning not to break her sister's heart.
Now she looked at him as though he had personally carried Fiona into that hospital bed.
"What are you doing here?" Elena demanded.
"I didn't know she was in Chicago."
"That's not what I asked."
Dominic swallowed.
"I saw her through the window."
Elena looked past him toward Room 304.
Her eyes filled with tears before she quickly turned away.
"You don't get to come back because something terrible happened," she said.
"You don't get to stand beside her bed and pretend you were there for the last five years."
"I know."
"No, Dominic, you don't."
Her voice broke.
"You have no idea what those years were like for her."
Dominic wanted to defend himself.
He wanted to explain Lorenzo Moretti's threat, the surveillance, and the terrible choice he had believed was necessary.
But something about Elena's exhausted face stopped him.
Whatever he had intended, Fiona had still been the person who suffered.
"What happened to her?" he asked.
Elena looked toward the nurses' station before answering.
"Someone ran her car off the road."
Dominic went completely still.
"Where?"
"Near Lake Shore Drive."
"When?"
"Yesterday evening."
"Did the police find the driver?"
Elena shook her head.
"They don't believe it was an ordinary accident."
A cold sensation moved through Dominic's chest.
"Why was she in Chicago?"
Elena hesitated.
"She was meeting someone."
"Who?"
"Someone she thought could help her expose something dangerous."
Dominic stared at her.
"What was she involved in?"
Elena gave a bitter laugh.
"That's the problem with you, Dominic."
"You hear that someone hurt Fiona, and immediately you start asking about enemies."
"You never think about what she might have been trying to do herself."
He lowered his eyes.
"You're right."
The admission seemed to surprise her.
But her expression hardened again almost immediately.
"She was doing important work in Detroit," Elena continued.
"She found evidence that people were stealing money from medical clinics."
"She came here because she believed somebody in Chicago had the documents to prove it."
Dominic felt the first warning of something much larger.
"What company?"
"I don't know everything."
"Elena."
"Don't use that voice with me."
He fell silent.
She rubbed her forehead with one trembling hand.
"I spent the last eighteen hours waiting for somebody to tell me whether my sister would survive," she said.
"I'm not interested in being interrogated by the man who abandoned her."
Dominic nodded.
"Then I won't interrogate you."
Elena looked at him suspiciously.
"I'll find out what happened without putting you through this," he continued.
"And I won't make a move against anyone without considering what Fiona would want."
"You should have considered what she wanted five years ago."
The words struck exactly where Elena intended.
Before Dominic could answer, a nurse approached and quietly told Elena that Dr. Mitchell was ready to discuss Fiona's condition with her.
Elena started toward the room.
Then she stopped.
"There's something you should know," she said without turning around.
Dominic waited.
"Fiona wasn't alone in Detroit."
He frowned.
"She built a life."
"I'm glad."
Elena turned back toward him.
The tears she had been fighting finally slipped down her cheeks.
"She has a little girl, Dominic."
For a moment, he couldn't understand the words.
"A daughter?"
Elena nodded.
"Her name is June."
Dominic's heart began pounding.
He remembered Fiona standing inside his apartment five years earlier.
He remembered her yellow cardigan, her trembling voice, and the way she had rested one hand against her stomach.
He had noticed the gesture.
He had simply been too determined to destroy their relationship to ask what it meant.
"How old?" he whispered.
Elena looked directly into his eyes.
"Four."
Dominic stepped backward until his shoulder touched the wall.
There were a thousand questions he wanted to ask.
But only one managed to escape.
"Is she mine?"
Elena's expression crumpled.
"Fiona tried to tell you."
The corridor seemed to tilt beneath his feet.
"She tried more than once."
Elena wiped her cheeks.
"And you never answered."
For the first time in years, Dominic Russo had absolutely no idea what to say.
May you like
Because behind the glass of Room 304 lay the woman he had abandoned.
And somewhere in Chicago was a four-year-old girl who might have spent her entire life waiting for a father who never knew she existed.
