Chapter 7 — Two Tiny Heartbeats
The photograph stayed on Luca's phone all night.
He looked at it again at 2:17 in the morning.
Then at 3:06.
Then again at 4:41.
Every time, the same details stared back at him.
Nia leaving the clinic.
One hand protecting her stomach.
Six years younger.
Terrified.
And across the street—
Adrian Cole.
Beside him, a woman wearing Evelyn Shaw's bracelet.
Luca had spent years believing Adrian was the one friend who had never wanted anything from him.
He had been there when Luca's father died.
He had helped rebuild Moretti Global.
He had sat beside Luca during negotiations worth hundreds of millions.
He had even signed as a witness when Luca finalized his divorce.
And Evelyn—
his wife—
had told him she only learned Nia was pregnant after the divorce.
The photograph said otherwise.
Luca didn't know which revelation frightened him more.
That someone had manipulated his marriage.
Or that he still didn't understand why.
At seven in the morning, Luca was sitting in the boardroom when Adrian walked in.
Adrian looked exactly as he always did.
Dark suit.
Silver watch.
Perfect posture.
No visible concern.
“Morning.”
Luca didn't answer.
Adrian placed a folder on the table.
“You asked for the revised acquisition terms.”
“I didn't.”
Adrian stopped.
Luca slid the photograph across the table.
Adrian looked down.
For one second—
only one—
his face changed.
Then it returned to normal.
“Where did you get this?”
“So you recognize it.”
“I recognize Nia.”
Luca watched him.
“And the woman?”
Adrian remained silent.
“Do you recognize her?”
“Yes.”
“Who is she?”
“Evelyn.”
Luca leaned back.
“You were both there.”
Adrian took a breath.
“It wasn't what you think.”
Luca almost laughed.
“I don't know what I think.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Then help me.”
Adrian looked at the photograph again.
“I was asked to observe.”
“By whom?”
“Your father.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I was told it was a family matter.”
“A family matter involving my wife?”
Adrian didn't answer.
Luca stood.
“You accessed Nia's medical records.”
“Yes.”
“You reviewed them.”
“Yes.”
“You spoke to Dr. Harrison.”
“Yes.”
“And you were watching her outside the clinic.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Adrian looked directly at him.
“Because your father believed something was going on.”
“What?”
“He thought Nia might be pregnant.”
Luca's heart stopped.
“When?”
“Before your divorce.”
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“And you never told me.”
“I was told not to.”
“By my father?”
“Yes.”
Luca stared at him.
“Why would my father care whether my wife was pregnant?”
Adrian hesitated.
“Because of the company.”
Luca's eyes narrowed.
“How?”
“If you and Nia had a child, the child would have rights.”
“To what?”
“Parts of the family structure.”
Luca felt a coldness spread through his chest.
He had always assumed his father wanted grandchildren.
Now it sounded like he wanted to control who would inherit them.
“What rights?”
Adrian shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
Luca leaned over the table.
“Then tell me what you do know.”
Adrian's voice dropped.
“I know your father didn't trust Nia.”
“Why?”
“He believed she would eventually have influence over you.”
“That still doesn't explain the medical report.”
“No.”
Adrian looked away.
“That part wasn't my idea.”
“Whose was it?”
He didn't answer.
Luca waited.
Finally Adrian said:
“I never told you she was infertile.”
“You strongly implied it.”
“I was repeating what I had been told.”
“By whom?”
Adrian's jaw tightened.
“A consultant.”
“What consultant?”
“I don't remember the name.”
Luca stared at him.
“You're a terrible liar.”
Adrian sighed.
“Fine.”
He looked up.
“I remember.”
“Name.”
“Dr. Samuel Grant.”
Luca wrote it down.
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“Convenient.”
“He died four years ago.”
“When?”
“After a stroke.”
Luca shook his head.
“You expect me to stop there?”
“No.”
Adrian reached into his coat.
He removed a small flash drive.
“This was never supposed to leave my possession.”
Luca took it.
“What is it?”
“An encrypted archive.”
“Of?”
“Nia's case.”
Luca looked at him.
“Why are you giving me this now?”
“Because I finally understand what your father was trying to prevent.”
“What?”
Adrian paused.
“Your children.”
Across the city, Nia was standing in a grocery store aisle with two shopping carts.
Leo was arguing that cereal counted as breakfast.
Mia was trying to convince her that yogurt could be dessert.
Nia smiled.
“Only one box.”
“Two.”
“One.”
“One and a half?”
Nia laughed.
“That's not how cereal works.”
Mia looked up.
“Can we invite Daddy?”
Nia's smile disappeared.
The children had started using the word more often.
Not because she had encouraged them.
Because they now knew.
Luca had become a person.
Not a distant name.
Not a man from the past.
A father.
Someone who came to the park.
Someone who brought cookies.
Someone who knew Leo liked chocolate but hated raisins.
Someone who remembered that Mia got nervous before school presentations.
Someone who had sat on their living-room floor for two hours building a toy city.
Nia hadn't expected it to affect her.
It did.
She had spent years telling herself Luca was a closed chapter.
Now he was becoming part of their children's daily vocabulary.
“Mom?”
Nia looked down.
Mia was watching her.
“Why are you sad?”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Leo nodded.
“You get quiet when we say Daddy.”
Nia forced a smile.
“Some things are complicated.”
Mia thought about that.
“Do you still love him?”
Nia froze.
A six-year-old shouldn't be able to ask a question that difficult.
But children didn't understand emotional timing.
They simply noticed what adults tried to hide.
Nia crouched.
“Sometimes people can love each other and still hurt each other.”
Leo frowned.
“Did Daddy hurt you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hurt him?”
Nia hesitated.
“Yes.”
That surprised them both.
“But why?”
“Because I was angry.”
“Are you still angry?”
Nia looked toward the store window.
“I don't know.”
Mia hugged her waist.
“Can you be a family now?”
Nia closed her eyes.
She didn't know.
That was the most honest answer.
So she kissed Mia's hair.
“We'll see.”
At noon, Luca sat in an underground archive beneath Moretti Global.
He had spent the morning opening the encrypted drive.
The first folders were useless.
Financial records.
Corporate correspondence.
Employee contracts.
Then he found a folder dated seven years earlier.
PROJECT CROWN.
Luca opened it.
There were medical records.
Legal memoranda.
Inheritance projections.
And one line repeated throughout:
Potential heir exposure.
He read the next report.
It described the consequences if Luca and Nia had a child.
The child's legal status.
The child's potential claim.
The changes that would occur to the Moretti family trust.
Luca's breathing slowed.
He hadn't known any of this.
The family trust had been written decades earlier.
And under certain conditions, a biological child born to Luca and Nia would have significant rights.
Not enough to control the company.
Enough to make several family members lose control over specific assets.
His father had known.
His advisors had known.
Adrian had known.
And Nia had known nothing.
Luca continued reading.
Then he found a note.
Mother should remain unaware until separation is complete.
Mother.
Luca frowned.
Who?
The next document clarified.
Nia must not be informed of the inheritance implications of a successful pregnancy.
He stared at the words.
This wasn't only about whether she could have children.
Someone wanted to make sure she didn't know what those children would mean financially.
Then came a second file.
MEDICAL COMMUNICATION PLAN.
Luca opened it.
There were instructions.
Use ambiguous language.
Avoid definitive diagnoses.
Redirect questions to specialists.
Encourage couple counseling.
And finally:
If pregnancy occurs, delay disclosure to Moretti until legal position is assessed.
Luca stared.
They had planned for the possibility.
They had anticipated Nia becoming pregnant.
And someone had made a decision.
Do not tell Luca.
He sat back.
His mind moved quickly.
If they knew Nia could become pregnant—
then the false fertility conclusion had served another purpose.
It made Luca believe pregnancy was impossible.
Which meant if Nia became pregnant anyway, nobody would expect him to know.
A perfect secret.
Luca's phone rang.
His investigator.
“Mr. Moretti, we found another file.”
“What?”
“An old prenatal record.”
Luca stood immediately.
“Where?”
“Chicago Children's Medical Network.”
“What does it say?”
The investigator hesitated.
“You need to see it yourself.”
Two hours later, Luca stood in front of the original prenatal file.
The doctor placed it on the desk.
“This was retrieved from an off-site archive.”
Luca opened it.
The first page was Nia's name.
Then the date.
Then the ultrasound.
Then the handwritten notes.
He turned the page.
The doctor watched him.
“The pregnancy was confirmed early.”
Luca's eyes moved down.
“Singleton?”
The doctor shook his head.
“No.”
He turned the report toward Luca.
Twin gestation.
Two separate heartbeats.
Two developing babies.
Luca's throat tightened.
“What's the date?”
“Six years ago.”
“How far along?”
“Eight weeks at the first scan.”
Luca sat down.
Eight weeks.
He did the calculation.
The divorce had been filed less than two weeks later.
Nia had been pregnant when he told her he no longer loved her.
She had been pregnant when he signed the papers.
She had been carrying two children while he walked away believing she could never have one.
His eyes blurred.
“Who knew?”
The doctor looked uncomfortable.
“The patient.”
“Nia?”
“Yes.”
“Who else?”
“The attending physician.”
“Who requested the record?”
The doctor checked the form.
“A private representative.”
“Name?”
He pointed to the signature.
Luca recognized it.
Adrian Cole.
Again.
But this time, there was something different.
The signature wasn't accompanied by a medical reason.
It was accompanied by a legal code.
Luca read it.
Family succession review.
He stared at the doctor.
“Someone reviewed my unborn children as a legal problem.”
The doctor said nothing.
Luca closed the file.
For seven years, everyone had called the divorce a personal tragedy.
Now he saw something else.
Someone had looked at his marriage and seen a succession battle.
Nia and her unborn children weren't simply family.
They were a threat to a structure.
That evening, Luca drove to Nia's apartment.
He didn't call ahead.
Not because he intended to force his way inside.
He simply needed to see her.
Nia opened the door.
The moment she saw his face, she knew something had happened.
“What is it?”
Luca held up the file.
“I found the original prenatal record.”
Nia went still.
“Where?”
“Medical archive.”
Her expression changed.
“You weren't supposed to find that.”
“I know.”
He stepped back.
“I won't come in unless you want me to.”
Nia hesitated.
Then opened the door wider.
“Come in.”
The children were upstairs.
They sat across from each other in the kitchen.
Luca placed the file on the table.
“You were pregnant when we divorced.”
“Yes.”
“With twins.”
“Yes.”
“You were eight weeks along.”
“Yes.”
“You tried to tell me.”
Nia's eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“And someone warned you not to.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Luca stared at her.
“I believe you.”
It was such a simple sentence.
Yet Nia looked as though she'd been struck.
Because seven years ago, that was exactly what she had needed to hear.
Instead, she had heard doubt.
Suspicion.
Silence.
Now, after everything had been lost, Luca finally believed her.
He reached across the table.
“I am sorry.”
Nia looked at his hand but didn't take it.
“You keep saying that.”
“I know.”
“It doesn't fix anything.”
“I know.”
“Then why say it?”
“Because I didn't say it when I should have.”
Silence.
Nia looked toward the stairs.
“They love you.”
Luca swallowed.
“I love them.”
“You don't know them yet.”
“I know.”
“You know what they like.”
“Yes.”
“You don't know what scares them.”
Luca looked down.
“Then I'll learn.”
Nia studied him.
“You say things differently now.”
“I don't know if I'm different.”
“What changed?”
He looked at her.
“I met my children.”
Her face softened.
Luca continued.
“And I realized I don't want to spend the rest of my life explaining why I wasn't there.”
Nia looked away.
Neither spoke for a while.
Then footsteps came from upstairs.
Leo appeared first.
He stopped when he saw Luca.
“Daddy.”
The word hit him hard.
Luca looked up.
Mia followed.
She ran down the stairs.
“You came back.”
Luca smiled.
“Yes.”
She climbed into the chair beside him.
“Are you staying for dinner?”
He looked at Nia.
She nodded once.
“Yes.”
Luca smiled.
“I'd like that.”
Dinner was ordinary.
Chicken.
Rice.
Vegetables.
Too much dessert.
Leo talked about school.
Mia described a painting project.
Luca listened.
Really listened.
He didn't check his phone once.
After they ate, he helped clear the table.
Nia watched him.
She hadn't seen him do that in years.
Not because he was incapable.
Because he had always believed there were people for that.
Tonight, he stood at the sink with his sleeves rolled up.
Leo came running into the kitchen.
“Dad!”
Luca turned.
“What?”
“Look!”
He held up a school paper.
“My teacher wants us to draw our family.”
Luca smiled.
“That's great.”
Leo held up the paper.
There were three figures.
Then another.
Four people.
A mother.
A boy.
A girl.
And a man.
Luca stared at the drawing.
“You drew me?”
Leo nodded.
“Mom said we're figuring it out.”
Luca looked at Nia.
She smiled faintly.
He crouched beside Leo.
“Can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“Why did you draw me so tall?”
Leo laughed.
“Because you are tall.”
Mia appeared beside them.
“And bald.”
Luca touched his hair.
“I'm not bald.”
Mia giggled.
“Yes, you are.”
Nia laughed.
It was the first time Luca had heard that laugh from her in years.
For one brief moment, the past disappeared.
Then Luca looked at the drawing again.
Four figures.
A family not yet rebuilt.
But maybe beginning.
Later that night, after Luca had left, Nia returned to the bedroom.
She opened the old box she had kept for six years.
The hospital bracelets.
The first photographs.
The letters she never sent.
At the bottom was one final document.
She had never shown it to Luca.
Not even today.
She stared at it.
The original warning she had received during her pregnancy.
She unfolded it.
DO NOT TELL LUCA YET.
Below it:
THEY ARE WATCHING THE BABIES.
And at the bottom—
a name.
Nia had never known whether it was real.
She had never told anyone.
But after seeing Luca today, she knew she couldn't keep it buried forever.
Because the person who had sent the warning had signed it.
Not anonymously.
Not with initials.
With a full name.
Nia whispered it aloud.
“Giovanni Moretti.”
She closed her eyes.
Luca's dead father had known about the twins before they were born.
And if that was true—
then he had known far more about Nia's pregnancy than Luca himself.
May you like
The question was no longer whether someone had lied to Luca.
The question was why Giovanni Moretti had been so desperate to keep his son from knowing he was about to become a father.
