Chapter 2 - The Man Behind the NameRachel expected Daniel Moretti to ask about the equipment.
Instead, the first thing he asked was, “Did my sister speak to you?”
They stood inside a private consultation room overlooking the rain-slicked ambulance entrance. Daniel had removed his overcoat, revealing a charcoal suit cut so perfectly that Rachel suddenly became aware of her cardigan, comfortable flats, and the coffee stain near her cuff.
“No.”
“Then you don’t know who she is.”
“Emma Moretti. Twenty-six. Car accident.”
His expression shifted slightly.
“You read the chart?”
“The doctor told me her name.”
Daniel studied her.
Rachel placed the printouts on the table.
“I think somebody used your company’s freight information to bring unauthorized medical equipment into this hospital.”
One of the men behind Daniel moved.
Daniel raised a hand.
The room became still.
“Explain.”
Rachel showed him the timestamps.
“This truck supposedly left your warehouse at 3:42 p.m. The hospital logged the shipment at 9:17 that morning.”
Daniel looked down.
“You’re certain?”
“Unless your trucks travel backward in time.”
Silence.
Then, unexpectedly, one corner of his mouth moved.
Rachel realized she had made a joke to Daniel Moretti.
Possibly a terrible career decision.
He picked up the page.
“Who approved the vendor?”
“My manager says the authorization came from senior administration.”
“Your manager.”
“Dennis Cole.”
Daniel glanced toward his security chief.
“Find out everything.”
Rachel stiffened.
“That isn’t why I told you.”
Daniel looked back at her.
“Why did you?”
“Because counterfeit medical equipment can kill people.”
“People you don’t know.”
“They’re still people.”
Something unreadable crossed his face.
Daniel had spent most of his adult life surrounded by people who calculated value before choosing whom to protect.
Rachel Morgan apparently did the opposite.
His phone rang.
He answered immediately.
“Emma?”
His entire expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Rachel saw fear.
Daniel listened, thanked someone, and disconnected.
“She’s awake.”
Rachel smiled.
“Good.”
Daniel stared at her.
“You saved her life.”
“No. Doctors saved her life.”
“You stopped that machine.”
“I did my job.”
“Apparently better than everyone else.”
Rachel glanced toward the door.
“I should get back.”
Daniel stepped aside.
He didn't block her.
That surprised her.
At the doorway, his voice stopped her.
“Ms. Morgan.”
Rachel turned.
“If anyone approaches you about those records, you call this number.”
He offered a plain black card.
Only a phone number was printed on it.
Rachel looked at him.
“That’s dramatic.”
“It’s practical.”
“I work in hospital inventory, Mr. Moretti. Nobody is coming after me.”
Daniel’s gaze hardened.
“Someone put counterfeit equipment into a trauma center using my company’s credentials.”
He held the card toward her.
“Take it.”
Rachel did.
She would later wish she had called the number much sooner.
Because at 8:13 the following morning, Dennis Cole disappeared.
His office was empty.
His phone was disconnected.
And every electronic record Rachel had flagged had been deleted.
Every record except the copies she had taken home.
Daniel arrived at her apartment that night.
Rachel opened the door wearing gray sweatpants and holding a wooden spoon.
He stared at the spoon.
She stared at the three black SUVs outside.
“You brought an army.”
“I brought three men.”
“That isn't the reassuring distinction you think it is.”
Daniel almost smiled again.
Almost.
Rachel let him inside.
Her apartment smelled like tomato sauce and garlic. Books filled mismatched shelves. A yellow lamp warmed the living room.
Daniel looked completely wrong there.
Too expensive.
Too controlled.
Too dangerous.
Rachel folded her arms.
“Dennis disappeared.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“I looked.”
“That answer is disturbing.”
“It was intended to be.”
Daniel told her someone had remotely accessed hospital procurement records before dawn.
Rachel's humor disappeared.
“Can they trace it?”
“Eventually.”
She hesitated.
“I have copies.”
Daniel went still.
“Where?”
Rachel pointed toward a battered laptop on the kitchen table.
For the first time, Daniel looked genuinely alarmed.
“You brought evidence home?”
“I didn't know it was evidence yesterday.”
“Rachel.”
“What?”
“Pack a bag.”
She laughed.
He didn't.
“You're serious.”
“Someone deleted records and vanished less than twenty-four hours after you exposed a counterfeit shipment.”
“This is my apartment.”
“And anyone with access to hospital employment records knows exactly where it is.”
Rachel's stomach tightened.
Then someone knocked.
Three soft taps.
Daniel instantly moved between Rachel and the door.
His security men appeared from the hallway.
“Were you expecting anyone?” Daniel asked.
“No.”
Another knock.
Daniel's expression changed.
Rachel suddenly understood what Lily had meant.
People said Daniel owned more than trucks.
One guard checked the peephole.
“Delivery.”
“I didn't order anything,” Rachel whispered.
Daniel opened the door only after the package had been inspected.
A small cardboard box sat outside.
No return address.
Inside was a shattered cardiac monitor screen.
A folded piece of paper lay beneath it.
Rachel read the words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED IN YOUR LANE.
Daniel took the note from her.
His face became terrifyingly calm.
Rachel looked at him.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“I'll pack.”
That night, Rachel Morgan entered Daniel Moretti's penthouse for the first time.
May you like
Six weeks later, she would stand before those same windows wearing his wedding ring.
And wonder whether the most dangerous enemy in Daniel's world had been standing beside them all along.
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