Chapter 2 - The Contract in the Nursery
The faint sound of crystal clinking and polite laughter drifted up from the grand dining room below, but inside the nursery, the air had turned to ice.
Luca Moretti stood motionless under the warm glow of the chandelier. His thumb pressed against the corner of the silver frame, his knuckles whitening as he stared at the forged surrogacy document in his hand. The paper crinkled under the sudden, silent pressure of his grip.
"Three months ago," Luca repeated. His voice wasn’t loud, but it possessed that low, dangerous vibration that made men twice his size back out of rooms. "She brought you a legal contract naming me as the father of an unborn child before I had even bought a ring."
Hannah Walsh wrapped her arms around her visibly rounded stomach, taking a trembling step backward. "Yes, sir. She found me through an agency out of Oak Park. She said her fiancé was an extremely private man with high-profile business dealings who couldn't have his name dragged through public fertility clinics. She promised three hundred thousand dollars—half upfront to clear my mother’s hospice debts, the rest upon delivery."
Luca’s gray eyes narrowed, tracking every shift in the young woman’s face. "And the signature on the authorization lines?"
"She told me you'd already signed the parentage petition in private with your family attorney," Hannah whispered, tears escaping her red-rimmed eyes. "I didn't know who you were, Mr. Moretti. I'm a waitress from Bridgeport. I don't read the society pages or follow shipping logistics. But when she brought me to this mansion today through the service elevator and told me I couldn't leave until she had my clinic ultrasound to show the guests... I knew something was wrong. She was frantic. She was shaking."
A soft, discreet knock sounded at the open doorway.
Daniel, Luca's head of security, stepped inside. Behind him stood Dr. Harris, carrying his black medical bag, his face drawn and serious after treating my knee in the guest quarters down the hall.
"Boss," Daniel said, his eyes immediately assessing the open suitcase and the terrified young woman. "You called?"
Luca didn't look away from the surrogacy contract. "Daniel. Take Miss Walsh to the private suite on the third floor. Not the guest rooms—the secure wing. Put two armed guards on the door and ensure her phone is handed over to technical services for full forensic mirroring."
Hannah gasped, clutching her phone to her chest. "Mr. Moretti, please! I didn't take her money! I told her no!"
"I know you didn't, Miss Walsh," Luca said, his voice dropping into a tone that was surprisingly calm, almost protective. "And that is the only reason you are walking out of this room unharmed. But Vanessa Bellini does not operate in a vacuum. If she forged my digital signature on an interstate surrogacy deed, she had an attorney file it. And if that attorney filed it, there is a paper trail leading directly to the Bellini family treasury."
He turned to Dr. Harris. "Examine her wrists. Make sure she and the child are medically stable. Then go back to Lauren Mitchell."
At the mention of my name, Luca’s jaw tightened visibly.
"How bad is her leg?" Luca asked the doctor.
Dr. Harris hesitated, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses. "Severe lacerations across the anterior patella, Mr. Moretti. Four stitches to close the deepest tear. If she had continued to bear weight on that joint for another thirty minutes, she would have torn the underlying meniscus. She has no business walking, let alone hauling antique hardwood across a dining hall."
Luca’s chest rose and fell in a slow, controlled breath. He closed the blue folder containing the contract, tucked it beneath his arm, and picked up the ultrasound frame.
"Daniel," Luca commanded.
"Sir?"
"Tell the kitchen staff to hold the dessert service. Lock the front estate gates. And tell the valet that no guest leaves the driveway until I personally escort them to their cars."
"And Miss Bellini?" Daniel asked quietly.
May you like
Luca looked down at the silver frame in his palm. The severed name tape at the top was jagged, cut hastily with small manicure scissors.
"Vanessa wanted an audience for her announcement," Luca whispered, his voice as sharp as a straight razor. "It would be rude not to give her one."
