CHAPTER 5 VOLKOV KNOWS
By seven in the morning, Adrian Moretti had stopped believing in coincidences.
There were too many.
The camera in Lily's bedroom.
The man with the scar.
Daniel Cross.
The photograph of two babies.
His father's warning.
Margaret Hale disappearing.
And now the knowledge that another girl had been born into the Moretti family—and erased from every record Adrian had ever seen.
It wasn't a collection of separate mysteries.
It was one story.
Someone had simply spent years tearing the pages apart.
Adrian stood at the end of the dining table while Vincent spread documents across its surface.
Birth records.
Hospital records.
Old financial statements.
Death certificates.
Immigration files.
Private adoption records.
Anything that might contain a trace of the missing child.
“How many hospitals did your father have connections to in 1998?” Vincent asked.
“Too many.”
“That's not useful.”
“My father didn't use hospitals when he could avoid them.”
Vincent looked up.
“Then where?”
“Private clinics. Doctors who owed him favors. Places that didn't ask questions.”
Vincent nodded.
“We're checking all of them.”
Adrian stared at the documents.
“What about my mother?”
“Dead.”
“I know.”
“Her records are almost nonexistent.”
“Almost?”
Vincent pulled out another folder.
“There was one physician who treated her privately.”
“Name?”
“Dr. Samuel Vance.”
Adrian looked up.
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
“Of course.”
“Twenty years ago.”
Adrian's jaw tightened.
“Family?”
“One daughter.”
“Name?”
“Rebecca Vance.”
“Find her.”
Vincent made a note.
Adrian looked toward the hallway.
“Where's Sarah?”
“With Lily.”
“Does she know about the photograph?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Vincent hesitated.
“You're hiding a lot from her.”
Adrian looked at him.
“I've hidden enough.”
“Then why keep this from her?”
“Because I don't know what it means yet.”
Vincent nodded.
“And because if there's another child involved, I don't know whether telling Sarah puts her in danger.”
Adrian walked toward the window.
The city was waking up.
Cars.
Sirens.
People moving through streets that had no idea how close they were to another war.
His phone vibrated.
One message.
No number.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED AWAY FROM HER.
Adrian stared at it.
A second message arrived.
NOW VOLKOV KNOWS.
His expression hardened.
“Vincent.”
Vincent looked up.
Adrian handed him the phone.
Vincent read the messages.
His face changed.
“How?”
“I don't know.”
“You're sure the meeting yesterday wasn't compromised?”
“Security was clean.”
“Then someone told him.”
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
“Or someone has been watching us longer than we thought.”
Vincent looked toward the hallway.
“Sarah?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever did this had access to Lily before yesterday.”
Adrian looked back at the photograph of the two babies.
“This started long before I met her.”
Dimitri Volkov sat in a dark room overlooking the East River.
He was fifty-two.
Broad shoulders.
Silver hair.
A face that looked almost civilized until his eyes settled on someone.
Then the civility disappeared.
A man stood across from him.
Marcus Bell.
The scar across his neck was visible beneath his collar.
Volkov studied the photograph on the table.
Adrian.
Lily.
Sarah.
“Beautiful girl,” he said.
Marcus said nothing.
Volkov picked up another photograph.
This one showed Adrian's father.
Marco Moretti.
“You know what I find interesting?”
Marcus waited.
“Adrian spent three years protecting the identity of his daughter.”
He tapped the photograph.
“Three years.”
“Yes.”
“And yet the moment we put pressure on him…”
He smiled.
“He walked straight to her.”
Marcus nodded.
“Fear makes people predictable.”
“No.”
Volkov looked up.
“Love makes them predictable.”
He placed the photograph down.
“That's why Moretti is finished.”
Marcus hesitated.
“There's a problem.”
Volkov's eyes sharpened.
“What?”
“The girl isn't the only secret.”
Volkov leaned back.
“Explain.”
“Moretti found something in his father's old office.”
“What?”
“I don't know.”
Volkov's expression darkened.
“But I know it concerns a second child.”
Silence.
Volkov stared at him.
“A second child?”
“Yes.”
“Whose?”
“Marco Moretti's.”
Volkov slowly stood.
“Are you certain?”
“Enough to know that Cross is moving.”
Volkov walked toward the window.
For the first time, concern appeared in his expression.
“Where is Cross?”
“We haven't found him.”
“You were supposed to.”
“I'll find him.”
“You'd better.”
Volkov turned.
“Because if Daniel Cross reaches the girl first, everything changes.”
Marcus frowned.
“The girl?”
“Which one?”
Volkov smiled.
“Exactly.”
Lily was eating cereal when Adrian entered the kitchen.
She looked up.
“Daddy.”
Adrian stopped.
The word still affected him.
Every time.
He walked toward her.
“Good morning.”
“Mommy says you're supposed to sit.”
“She does?”
“Yes.”
Sarah entered behind him.
“She does.”
Adrian sat.
Lily pushed a bowl toward him.
“Eat.”
Adrian looked at Sarah.
Sarah shrugged.
“You've been adopted.”
Lily frowned.
“No.”
Adrian smiled.
“I mean, you decided I belong here.”
“Oh.”
She thought about it.
“Yes.”
Adrian took a spoon.
Lily watched him.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Do you have a house?”
“Yes.”
“Can I see it?”
Adrian paused.
“My house?”
She nodded.
“Where is it?”
“Manhattan.”
“So is ours.”
“Mine is…”
He hesitated.
“Different.”
“How?”
Adrian looked at Sarah.
Sarah understood.
He was trying to figure out how to explain his world without frightening Lily.
“It's very big,” he finally said.
“How big?”
“Too big.”
Lily smiled.
“Do you have a pool?”
“Yes.”
“A dog?”
“No.”
“You need a dog.”
Adrian nodded solemnly.
“Apparently.”
“A big one.”
“How big?”
“Bigger than Mr. Buttons.”
Adrian glanced at the stuffed bear.
“That would be difficult.”
Lily giggled.
Sarah watched them.
For a few seconds, the house felt normal.
Almost.
Then the front door opened.
One of Vincent's men stepped inside.
He spoke quietly.
“Mr. Moretti.”
Adrian stood.
“What?”
The man's face was pale.
“We found something.”
Adrian followed him into the hallway.
“What?”
“A vehicle.”
“Where?”
“Two blocks from here.”
“Plate?”
“False.”
“Who owns it?”
“We don't know.”
Adrian's expression hardened.
“What's inside?”
The man hesitated.
“A photograph.”
Adrian took it.
His face changed.
It was Lily.
Walking to school.
Six months ago.
Then another.
Lily at the park.
Another.
Lily leaving daycare.
Another.
Lily asleep in her bedroom.
Adrian's jaw clenched.
“How many?”
“Forty-seven.”
Sarah appeared behind him.
She saw the photographs.
Her face went white.
“What is that?”
Adrian turned.
“Go back inside.”
“No.”
“Sarah.”
“No.”
She grabbed one of the photographs.
Her hands began shaking.
“Someone has been watching her.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
Adrian didn't answer.
Sarah looked at him.
“How long?”
“Six months.”
She closed her eyes.
Then she whispered:
“Six months.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“I'll fix this.”
“You can't.”
“I can.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“You can't fix six months.”
Her voice broke.
“You can't erase someone standing outside our daughter's school.”
Adrian's expression hardened.
“No.”
He took the photographs.
“But I can make sure they never get another chance.”
Sarah stared at him.
Then she asked:
“Who is Volkov?”
Adrian froze.
She had finally asked the question.
“What?”
“Who is Dimitri Volkov?”
Adrian looked at Vincent's man.
“Leave us.”
The man stepped away.
Sarah folded her arms.
“Answer me.”
“He's a man I have business with.”
“Don't.”
Adrian went silent.
“I've spent three years believing you stayed away because you thought it was safer.”
She lifted the photograph.
“Now I find out there's a man named Volkov, another man with a scar, cameras in Lily's bedroom, and people photographing her for six months.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“And you still want to call it business?”
Adrian looked at her.
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
“A war.”
Sarah's face went pale.
“Against you?”
“Yes.”
“And Lily?”
Adrian's voice became quiet.
“Because she's mine.”
Sarah stared at him.
“She isn't property.”
“I know.”
“Then don't talk about her like a weakness someone can exploit.”
Adrian's eyes softened.
“She isn't my weakness.”
“What is she?”
Adrian looked toward Lily.
“My reason.”
Sarah's anger faltered.
Then Lily called from the kitchen.
“Mommy?”
Sarah turned.
“Yes?”
“Daddy forgot his spoon.”
Adrian looked down.
The spoon was in his hand.
Sarah almost laughed.
Almost.
Then she looked at him again.
“You need to tell me everything.”
“I will.”
“Now.”
Adrian nodded.
“After Lily is safe.”
At noon, Vincent returned with an update.
“Volkov has increased his surveillance.”
Adrian stood inside his office.
“How do you know?”
“Three men spotted near the house.”
“Names?”
“Unknown.”
“Take them.”
Vincent paused.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I want answers.”
Vincent nodded.
“There's more.”
“What?”
“We found the original owner of the car.”
“Who?”
“An employee at the old daycare.”
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
“Name?”
“Thomas Reed.”
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
Adrian stared at him.
“When?”
“Five months ago.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
“Convenient.”
“Very.”
Adrian walked to the desk.
“What about the teacher?”
Vincent placed another file down.
“Her name is Emily Carter.”
“Still missing?”
“Yes.”
“Family?”
“One brother.”
“Find him.”
“Already did.”
Adrian looked up.
“And?”
Vincent's expression was grim.
“He says Emily disappeared because she was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Someone had been asking questions about Lily.”
Adrian's jaw tightened.
“Who?”
“He doesn't know.”
“That's not enough.”
“He gave us one detail.”
“What?”
“She kept saying the same name.”
Adrian waited.
“Daniel.”
Silence.
Adrian looked at Vincent.
“Daniel Cross.”
Vincent nodded.
“Most likely.”
Adrian's hand tightened around the edge of the desk.
“Find Cross.”
“We're trying.”
“No.”
Adrian's voice became colder.
“Stop trying.”
Vincent looked at him.
“Find him.”
That night, Adrian finally told Sarah about his father.
Not everything.
Not yet.
But enough.
They sat in the living room after Lily had gone to bed.
Sarah listened without interrupting.
The photograph of Marco holding the newborn lay between them.
When Adrian finished, she stared at it.
“That's impossible.”
“I know.”
“You're saying your father had another child?”
“I don't know.”
“You said the photograph was dated six years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Then who is that?”
“I don't know.”
Sarah looked closer.
“That's not Lily.”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“I don't know.”
Sarah looked at Adrian.
“You knew about this before today.”
“I found it this morning.”
“And you didn't tell me.”
“I needed to know whether it was real.”
Sarah's eyes narrowed.
“How do you prove something like that?”
“Records.”
“From twenty-eight years ago?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head.
“You're going to destroy yourself chasing ghosts.”
Adrian looked at the photograph.
“Maybe.”
Sarah reached across the table.
She touched his hand.
“Adrian.”
He looked at her.
“You don't have to solve everything tonight.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because someone else is solving it for me.”
Sarah understood.
Volkov.
She pulled her hand back.
“What happens if they find this other girl?”
Adrian's face hardened.
“I don't know.”
“And if she's alive?”
“Then I find her first.”
Sarah stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because if she's part of this family…”
He looked toward Lily's bedroom.
“…she may be in danger too.”
Sarah was quiet.
Then she whispered:
“Maybe she's the reason Lily was targeted.”
Adrian looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it.”
Sarah pointed toward the photograph.
“Two children.”
“One secret.”
“And someone has spent years hiding the second.”
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
“What if Lily isn't the target?”
Sarah's voice dropped.
“What if she's the bait?”
The room went silent.
Adrian's mind raced.
The surveillance.
The drawings.
The man with the scar.
The photograph.
Cross.
Volkov.
What if everyone had been watching Lily because they knew Adrian would eventually come to her?
What if the entire threat had been designed to force him out of hiding?
His phone rang.
Vincent.
Adrian answered.
“What?”
“We found Cross.”
Adrian stood.
“Where?”
“Brooklyn.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Bring him.”
“He refuses.”
Adrian's eyes hardened.
“Then convince him.”
A pause.
“There's another problem.”
“What?”
“Cross asked for you by name.”
“Why?”
“He said he has something you need.”
“What?”
Vincent hesitated.
“A second photograph.”
Adrian's stomach tightened.
“Of Lily?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Vincent's voice became very quiet.
“Your mother.”
Adrian froze.
“My mother died when I was seventeen.”
“I know.”
“Then how does Cross have a photograph of her?”
“He says the photograph was taken three weeks ago.”
Adrian stopped breathing.
Three weeks.
After the shooting.
After his father's old files had been disturbed.
After someone had begun moving pieces into position.
His mother had been dead for seventeen years.
Unless—
Adrian's voice dropped.
“Vincent.”
“Yes?”
“Bring Cross to me.”
“Boss—”
“Now.”
An hour later, Daniel Cross sat inside an abandoned warehouse.
His hands were not restrained.
He didn't need restraints.
He looked too old to fight.
But Adrian knew better.
Men like Cross didn't survive twenty-eight years by being harmless.
The scar across his neck was gone.
Marcus Bell had one.
Cross didn't.
That meant Lily's drawing wasn't him.
Another piece of the puzzle.
Adrian walked into the room.
Cross looked up.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Cross smiled.
“You look like your father.”
Adrian's expression didn't move.
“You knew him.”
“I loved him.”
Adrian stopped.
“That's not what I heard.”
“You heard what he wanted you to hear.”
“Did you know about Lily?”
Cross smiled faintly.
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Before she was born.”
Adrian's eyes hardened.
“Did you know about the other child?”
Cross's smile disappeared.
“Yes.”
“Who is she?”
“I don't know where she is.”
“Who does?”
“Volkov.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“Why?”
“Because he isn't the one looking for her.”
“Then who?”
Cross stared at him.
“The people who built your father's empire.”
Adrian frowned.
“My father built it.”
“No.”
Cross's voice was quiet.
“He inherited it.”
Silence.
“From whom?”
Cross leaned forward.
“Your grandfather.”
Adrian's face changed.
“My grandfather died before I was born.”
“Exactly.”
“What does that have to do with Lily?”
Cross reached into his coat.
Vincent's men immediately raised their weapons.
Cross slowly removed an envelope.
He placed it on the table.
Adrian opened it.
One photograph.
A woman.
Older.
Gray hair.
Standing beside a little girl.
Adrian stared.
He knew the woman.
His mother.
But she wasn't supposed to be alive.
The photograph had been taken three weeks ago.
And the little girl standing beside her—
Adrian's hands began to shake.
She had his eyes.
His mother's eyes.
The same dark eyes Lily had.
Cross watched him.
“You finally understand.”
Adrian looked up.
“Who is she?”
Cross whispered:
“Your sister.”
The warehouse went silent.
Adrian stared at the photograph.
A girl who should have been twenty-eight years old.
A girl erased from his family's history.
A girl someone had spent decades hiding.
Then Cross said the words that changed everything.
“She isn't your sister.”
Adrian looked up.
Cross's expression was grim.
“She is your daughter.”
Adrian's face went completely blank.
“No.”
Cross nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
“You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
Adrian slammed his hand onto the table.
“Lily is my daughter.”
Cross didn't flinch.
“She is.”
“Then who is that?”
Cross looked at the photograph.
“The child your mother took from you before you were old enough to remember.”
Adrian stopped.
“My mother died when I was seventeen.”
Cross's eyes hardened.
“Your mother died knowing the truth.”
Adrian stared at him.
“What truth?”
Cross leaned forward.
“That Lily wasn't the first daughter you had.”
Adrian's breath caught.
“You had another child before Lily.”
The words made no sense.
They couldn't.
Adrian was thirty-four.
Lily was six.
He had never had another child.
Never.
Cross pushed the photograph toward him.
“Ask yourself why your father kept this photograph hidden.”
Adrian looked down.
The girl stared back at him.
She looked approximately twenty-eight.
Impossible.
Then he noticed the bracelet around her wrist.
The same bracelet from the photograph in his father's drawer.
The letter A.
Adrian's blood ran cold.
He looked at Cross.
“What happened in 1998?”
Cross didn't answer.
“What happened?”
Cross finally whispered:
“Your family made a deal.”
“What deal?”
“To protect one child, they sacrificed another.”
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
Cross looked toward the warehouse doors.
Then back at Adrian.
“Your father protected you.”
A pause.
“And your mother protected Lily.”
Adrian stared.
“Then who was sacrificed?”
Cross's answer was barely audible.
“The girl you were never supposed to know existed.”
Suddenly, every light in the warehouse went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
A gunshot cracked through the silence.
Then another.
Vincent shouted:
“DOWN!”
Adrian dropped behind the table.
Glass shattered.
Men screamed outside.
Cross grabbed Adrian's arm.
“Listen to me!”
“Who is attacking?”
Cross's face was terrified.
Not for himself.
For Adrian.
“They're here for the photograph.”
Another shot.
Cross shoved the photograph into Adrian's hand.
“Whatever you do…”
He looked directly into Adrian's eyes.
“Don't let Volkov get her.”
Adrian's heart hammered.
“Who?”
Cross whispered one final word.
“Your mother.”
May you like
Then the warehouse doors exploded inward.
And Adrian Moretti realized the dead woman who had haunted his childhood might not be dead at all.
