Chapter 2 - The Name I Buried
The black SUV remained outside for twenty-three minutes.
I counted every one.
Liam stood beside the window, keeping his body away from the glass.
“Do you recognize it?”
“No.”
“Plate?”
“Too far away.”
He picked up his phone.
“I'll call the police.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Why not?”
“Because I don't know who they are.”
“That is exactly why we call the police.”
“If this is connected to my father's investigation, I don't know who I can trust.”
Liam stared at me.
“You've been living like this for six years?”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
His voice softened.
“You weren't alone.”
I looked at him.
He pointed at himself.
“You had me.”
Something inside my chest tightened.
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
He shook his head.
“You don't get to disappear inside my house for six years and pretend I wasn't part of your life.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“The people who killed my parents.”
He went silent.
The black SUV finally pulled away.
But the fear didn't.
It stayed inside the apartment with us.
I picked up my father's notebook.
“I need to know what he found.”
“Then let's find out.”
“You don't have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Liam—”
“You're carrying a billionaire's baby, someone just threatened you, and there's a car outside your apartment.”
He grabbed his jacket.
“I'm not letting you handle this alone.”
I stared at him.
“Where are we going?”
“To the storage unit.”
I froze.
“No.”
“You said your father kept evidence there.”
“Some.”
“Then that's where we start.”
I wanted to argue.
Instead, I grabbed my coat.
Twenty minutes later, we were driving across Chicago.
Neither of us spoke.
The city moved past the window in gray streaks.
I watched skyscrapers rise above us.
Among them was one of Alessandro's buildings.
Vitali Tower.
Black glass.
Forty-eight floors.
The top ten belonged entirely to Vitali Holdings.
I looked away.
Liam noticed.
“You're thinking about him.”
“No.”
“You're a terrible liar.”
I sighed.
“Yes.”
“What do you think he'll do?”
“I don't know.”
“Do you love him?”
I looked at him sharply.
“That's not the problem.”
“Didn't say it was.”
I stared out the window.
“I barely know him.”
“But you trusted him.”
I didn't answer.
Because that was the problem.
I had.
For one night, I had trusted Alessandro more than I had trusted anyone in years.
He had listened to me.
Not because he wanted something.
Not at first.
He had asked about my dreams.
My parents.
My nursing studies.
He had remembered the smallest details.
When I told him I hated lilies because they reminded me of hospitals, he had moved a vase away from me without saying anything.
When I mentioned that I liked old detective novels, he had shown me the private library in Room 1520.
He had seemed lonely.
Human.
Safe.
Now I wondered if all of it had been an act.
The storage facility was nearly empty.
I unlocked the unit.
The door rolled upward.
Dust filled the air.
Inside were boxes my father had stored before his death.
Liam turned on the lights.
We searched for nearly an hour.
Then I found a locked suitcase.
My father's initials were carved into the metal.
D.H.
I knelt.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside were folders.
Photographs.
A flash drive.
And an old newspaper clipping.
VITALI DEVELOPMENT PROJECT APPROVED DESPITE ENVIRONMENTAL CONCERNS.
I read the article.
A redevelopment project had displaced hundreds of families.
Several residents had developed serious illnesses.
The city had approved the project despite warnings.
My father's handwriting covered the margin.
Not contamination. Deliberate disposal.
I looked at Liam.
“What does that mean?”
He took the paper.
“I don't know.”
I opened another folder.
Property maps.
Bank transfers.
Names.
Then I saw one name I recognized.
Victor Vitali.
Alessandro's father.
Next to his name was another.
Stefano Vitali.
Alessandro's uncle.
I flipped through the pages.
Then stopped.
There was a photograph of my father standing outside a warehouse.
A man stood beside him.
I knew him immediately.
Stefano Vitali.
My father's notes beneath the photograph were simple.
HE KNOWS ABOUT THE CHILD.
I stared.
“What child?”
Liam leaned closer.
“Maybe this isn't about your pregnancy.”
I turned the page.
Another photograph.
A young woman.
My mother.
Standing beside a man I had never seen before.
He looked remarkably similar to Alessandro.
Same jawline.
Same amber eyes.
Underneath was one word.
MARCO.
I looked at Liam.
“Who is Marco?”
“I don't know.”
I searched through the documents.
Nothing.
Then I found a birth certificate.
The name had been blacked out.
But one line remained visible.
Father: Victor Vitali.
My heart began pounding.
“Liam.”
He looked over.
“This isn't just an investigation.”
“No.”
I held up the document.
“This is family.”
Before he could respond, footsteps sounded outside the storage unit.
Slow.
Heavy.
Approaching.
Liam turned off the lights.
We froze.
A shadow passed beneath the door.
Someone stopped outside.
Then came three knocks.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Another knock.
A man's voice came through the metal.
“Elizabeth.”
I stopped breathing.
Nobody had called me that in six years.
Liam looked at me.
The voice came again.
“You know who I am.”
I didn't answer.
The lock on the storage unit rattled.
Liam whispered:
“Back door.”
We moved silently toward it.
Then the metal door suddenly shook.
Someone was trying to force it open.
We ran.
The back exit led into an alley.
We climbed over a fence.
Footsteps followed.
“Keep moving,” Liam whispered.
We reached the car.
I threw myself inside.
Liam started the engine.
The tires screamed against the pavement.
We escaped.
Neither of us spoke until we were three blocks away.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I didn't answer.
It rang again.
And again.
Finally, a text appeared.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT THE NOTEBOOK ALONE.
Then another.
YOUR FATHER MADE THE SAME MISTAKE.
I closed my eyes.
Liam looked at me.
“Who is it?”
“I don't know.”
The phone rang again.
This time, I answered.
I said nothing.
A man's voice came through.
“Elizabeth Harper.”
My blood turned cold.
“You're making this harder than it needs to be.”
“Who are you?”
A quiet laugh.
“You'll find out soon.”
“Why are you following me?”
“Because you have something that belongs to us.”
“What?”
Silence.
Then:
“The child.”
The call ended.
Liam looked at me.
I couldn't move.
The child.
They weren't threatening me because of my father's notebook.
They wanted Alessandro's baby.
I looked down at my stomach.
And suddenly, every instinct inside me screamed one thing.
Run.
But where?
My parents were dead.
My identity was exposed.
Someone knew about the pregnancy.
And the only man powerful enough to protect me was the one man I had spent six years avoiding.
Alessandro Vitali.
I hated the thought.
I hated needing him.
But I had no choice.
That night, I returned to Liam's apartment.
I had barely stepped through the door when someone knocked.
Three slow knocks.
Liam froze.
I felt every muscle in my body tighten.
Another knock.
Liam moved toward the peephole.
He looked through it.
Then stepped backward.
His face had gone completely pale.
“Who is it?”
He didn't answer.
“Liam?”
He swallowed.
“It's Alessandro.”
My heart stopped.
I walked toward the door.
“Don't.”
Liam grabbed my wrist.
“He came alone.”
“That doesn't mean anything.”
“You're not opening this.”
A deep voice came from the other side.
“Elizabeth.”
I closed my eyes.
Alessandro had found me.
Not Emma.
Elizabeth.
He knew.
The door opened.
Alessandro Vitali stood in the hallway.
Dark coat.
Open collar.
Amber eyes.
And a look on his face I had never seen before.
Not anger.
Not arrogance.
Fear.
His gaze dropped slowly toward my stomach.
Then returned to my eyes.
“Is the baby mine?”
I couldn't breathe.
Liam stepped between us.
“You need to leave.”
Alessandro didn't even look at him.
His eyes stayed on me.
“Elizabeth.”
I finally whispered:
“Yes.”
May you like
His jaw tightened.
“And why,” he asked quietly, “did you think you could disappear with my child?”
