Chapter 3 - THE MAN MY HUSBAND WORKED FOR
Daniel did not answer my calls.
That was unusual.
Not because he loved me.
Apparently that assumption had expired.
But Daniel always answered when money or lawyers could be involved.
By noon, my attorney had entered the room.
Rachel Greene had handled the purchase of our townhouse two years earlier.
She took one look at Luka and whispered:
“Why is there a Moretti in your hospital room?”
“You know him?”
“Everyone in certain courtrooms knows the name.”
Luka leaned against the window.
“I’m flattered.”
Rachel ignored him.
“What happened?”
I explained.
Daniel.
Vanessa.
M-17.
Cord blood.
The missing records.
Rachel’s face changed as the story grew.
Then I told her about the fertility program.
She stopped writing.
“Say that again.”
Luka answered for me.
“Vale Biomedical ran a genetic-selection project through shell entities connected to St. Gabriel.”
Rachel looked at him.
“You can prove that?”
“My father died trying.”
That silenced her.
Then a nurse entered with my daughter.
They had returned her after routine neonatal screening.
I had finally named her.
Grace.
Grace Bennett Carter.
At least for the moment.
Rachel smiled.
“Beautiful.”
Then looked at me.
“You need to decide who can access her records.”
“Only me.”
“What about Daniel?”
I hesitated.
Legally, he was presumed father because we were married.
“Can we restrict him?”
“With cause.”
Luka answered:
“We have cause.”
Rachel gave him a look.
“You are not counsel.”
“I know.”
“And you are not her father.”
Another pause.
“I know.”
Something strange moved through his face.
Not disappointment.
Memory.
Rachel noticed too.
“What aren't you telling us?”
Luka looked at Grace.
Then at me.
“My family was part of M-17.”
My skin went cold.
“How?”
“My parents struggled with infertility.”
He spoke slowly.
“My mother underwent treatment at St. Gabriel thirty-two years ago.”
Rachel understood before I did.
“You.”
Luka nodded.
“I was one of the first children.”
I stared.
“You were born from it?”
“Yes.”
“What does that mean?”
“My father believed he was my biological father.”
Luka’s jaw tightened.
“He wasn’t.”
“Who was?”
“Arthur Vale.”
The name landed like a weight.
Vale Biomedical.
Arthur Vale.
The photograph with my father.
Luka continued.
“Vale used his own genetic material in several early procedures.”
I felt sick.
“Why?”
“Narcissism dressed as research.”
Rachel muttered:
“Jesus.”
Luka nodded.
“My father discovered the truth when I was twelve.”
“What happened?”
“He confronted Vale.”
“And?”
“Nothing publicly.”
Luka looked toward the rain outside.
“But three months later, my father was killed.”
He did not need to say how.
I understood why the Moretti name carried weight.
His family had not been innocent.
But his father had spent the final years of his life collecting evidence against Vale.
My father had helped.
Two men from completely different worlds.
An accountant.
A man with organized-crime connections.
Both discovered the same secret.
Both died.
And now Luka believed M-17 had resurfaced around my daughter.
Rachel asked:
“Where does Daniel fit?”
Luka opened his phone.
A photograph appeared.
Daniel entering Vale Biomedical’s downtown office eight months earlier.
Then another.
Daniel and Arthur Vale’s son, Preston, at a restaurant.
Then Vanessa.
Sitting with both men.
My stomach turned.
“Daniel works for a real-estate company.”
“Owned through a holding group partially financed by Vale Capital.”
Luka handed me the phone.
My husband had not simply cheated.
He had lied about his entire professional world.
“What did they want from me?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Rachel asked:
“Was Evelyn chosen?”
Luka hesitated.
That was answer enough.
“Chosen for what?”
He looked at me.
“Your father kept copies of M-17 records.”
I felt cold.
“They believed he gave them to your mother.”
“My mother died five years ago.”
“I know.”
“Then why marry me?”
Luka said nothing.
I understood.
Daniel.
“Daniel married me because of my father?”
“We need proof.”
“No.”
I looked at Grace.
“He found me in college.”
Daniel had seemed random.
Funny.
Persistent.
He knew I had lost both parents.
Knew I had no siblings.
Knew I inherited boxes of old family paperwork I had never bothered opening.
A perfect target.
My marriage might have been surveillance.
I started crying.
Not loudly.
My body was too exhausted for that.
Rachel took my hand.
Then the hospital door opened.
Daniel walked in.
Alone.
He stopped when he saw Luka.
“What is he doing here?”
Luka smiled.
“Hello, Daniel.”
Daniel’s face went white.
They knew each other.
I looked between them.
“You said you'd never met.”
Daniel ignored me.
“You need to leave.”
Luka did not move.
Daniel turned to me.
“Evelyn, this man is dangerous.”
I laughed.
“You left me six hours after I gave birth.”
“That was a mistake.”
“With Vanessa?”
His eyes shifted.
“There are things you don't understand.”
“That sentence is becoming popular today.”
Then Daniel saw the M-17 envelope on the table.
His face changed.
There.
Proof.
He knew.
I picked it up.
“What is M-17?”
“Give me that.”
“No.”
“Evelyn.”
He stepped closer.
Luka moved between us.
Daniel stopped.
Then I asked the question that changed the room.
“Did you marry me because of my father?”
Daniel’s face broke.
Only slightly.
Enough.
I whispered:
“Oh my God.”
He sat down.
“Not at first.”
May you like
The answer was somehow worse.
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