Chapter 3
I arrived in Connecticut just after noon.
The house belonged to my mother’s closest friend, Eleanor.
She had retired years ago and lived alone in a small town where nobody cared about Manhattan billionaires or criminal empires.
She opened the door before I knocked twice.
The moment she saw me, her expression softened.
“Oh, Claire.”
That was all it took.
I broke down.
She pulled me inside and wrapped her arms around me.
I cried against her shoulder like I had been holding everything together for years and had finally run out of strength.
She didn’t ask questions.
She didn’t tell me I was making a mistake.
She simply held me.
Eventually, she led me into the kitchen.
“You haven’t eaten.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Pregnant women still have to eat.”
I looked at her.
She smiled gently.
“You told me last night.”
I nodded.
“I remember.”
She put a plate in front of me.
Toast.
Eggs.
Fruit.
Nothing fancy.
It was perfect.
I sat down.
For the first time in days, I felt safe enough to breathe.
Then my phone buzzed.
Eleanor glanced at it.
“Adrian?”
“Probably.”
“You don’t have to answer.”
“I know.”
She sat across from me.
“Are you sure?”
I looked down at my hands.
“No.”
It was the most honest answer I had given anyone.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“That’s okay.”
“What if he finds me?”
“He probably will.”
I looked up.
Eleanor sighed.
“Claire, powerful men are not accustomed to losing things.”
“I’m not a thing.”
“I know.”
She reached across the table.
“But he may not know that yet.”
I swallowed.
“I loved him.”
“I know.”
“I still do.”
“I know.”
“That’s the problem.”
Eleanor squeezed my hand.
“No. That’s not the problem.”
“What is?”
“You loved him while he was teaching you not to love yourself.”
I looked away.
She was right.
And I hated her for it.
Not because she was wrong.
Because she wasn’t.
By sunset, Adrian had shut down half of Manhattan.
Not literally.
But close.
Every private investigator, security contractor, driver, surveillance team and trusted associate he had was looking for Claire.
Hospitals were checked.
Airports were checked.
Train stations.
Hotels.
Private terminals.
Banks.
Credit cards.
Toll roads.
Traffic cameras.
Rental agencies.
Adrian stood in the command room of the Moretti headquarters while Marcus delivered updates.
“No hospital records.”
“Airport?”
“Nothing under her name.”
“Credit cards?”
“Inactive.”
“Phone?”
“Turned off.”
“Car?”
“She didn’t take either of your vehicles.”
Adrian stared at the city map.
“Then how did she leave?”
“Rental car.”
“What name?”
“Samuel Reed.”
“Who is Samuel Reed?”
“A retired driver who occasionally works private contracts.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“Find him.”
“We’re already trying.”
“Don’t hurt him.”
Marcus looked surprised.
Adrian noticed.
“I said don’t hurt him.”
“Understood.”
“He drove my wife.”
“Yes.”
“He protected her.”
Marcus said nothing.
Adrian turned toward the window.
“I want to know where she went.”
Marcus hesitated.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“There is something else.”
Adrian turned.
“Say it.”
“Your mother knows.”
The room went silent.
“My mother?”
“She contacted Claire two weeks ago.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
“Find out.”
I hadn’t spoken to Adrian’s mother in almost a year.
Not because I disliked her.
Because she had never accepted me.
Lucia Moretti had once looked me in the eyes and said, “My son does not need a wife.”
I had asked her what she thought he needed.
She had answered, “An heir.”
At the time, I had laughed because I thought she was joking.
She wasn’t.
Now, sitting in Eleanor’s guest room, I stared at the missed call from Lucia.
She had called three times.
I finally answered.
“Claire.”
Her voice was cold.
Controlled.
Familiar.
“Mrs. Moretti.”
“Where are you?”
I said nothing.
“I won’t ask twice.”
“I know.”
There was a long silence.
Then she said something I never expected.
“Are you carrying Adrian’s child?”
My breath caught.
“How did you know?”
“I know my son.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
She paused.
“Someone at the clinic recognized your name.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Adrian’s family had connections everywhere.
“What do you want?”
“I want to meet you.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“You don’t get to call me Claire like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m still your son’s obedient little secret.”
Silence.
Then Lucia said quietly:
“I was wrong.”
I sat completely still.
“What?”
“I said I was wrong.”
The words sounded strange coming from her.
“I should have forced Adrian to acknowledge you.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Why?”
“Because I knew he loved you.”
My throat tightened.
“Then why did you let him hide me?”
“I didn’t.”
She took a breath.
“I fought him.”
“When?”
“From the beginning.”
I said nothing.
“Adrian believed keeping you hidden would protect you. I told him it would destroy you.”
I stared at the wall.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought he would eventually do the right thing.”
A bitter smile touched my lips.
“So did I.”
Lucia’s voice softened.
“Claire, listen carefully.”
I waited.
“There are people inside the organization who know about you.”
My blood went cold.
“What people?”
“People who believe Adrian has no weakness.”
“And?”
“They now know you are his wife.”
I stood.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you are no longer invisible.”
A chill moved through me.
“And my baby?”
“Your baby is now the most valuable thing in New York.”
I gripped the phone.
May you like
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because Adrian isn’t the only person looking for you.”
