Chapter 5 - THE CHILD BETWEEN THEM
They left the Thorne estate through the kitchen entrance.
Mara hated that.
She had promised herself she would walk out through the front door when she finally left for good.
Luca noticed.
He stopped beside the car.
“Something wrong?”
“I wanted to leave through the front.”
“Then we will.”
Before she could protest, Luca turned around.
He walked back through the kitchen.
Mara followed.
They crossed the mansion together.
Every servant watched.
Every guard watched.
Bianca stood halfway down the staircase.
Senator Thorne had finally come downstairs.
Charles Thorne was sixty-three years old, silver-haired and carefully tanned, with the reassuring smile that had appeared on campaign posters for two decades.
Mara knew another version.
The man who called staff by numbers.
The man who never apologized.
The man who could make people disappear socially, financially, professionally.
“Mara.”
His tone was warm.
That frightened her more than anger.
“Senator.”
“I think emotions have gotten out of hand.”
Luca stood beside her.
Charles smiled.
“Mr. Moretti.”
“Charles.”
“We should speak privately.”
“No.”
The senator’s smile tightened.
“This is a family misunderstanding.”
Mara almost laughed.
“I’m not your family.”
Charles looked at her.
“You were treated like family.”
Mara touched her bruised cheek.
“Your daughter has an unusual way of showing affection.”
Bianca stepped forward.
“You deserved—”
“Enough.”
Charles silenced her with one word.
Then he looked toward Mara’s stomach.
For one instant, surprise appeared.
He had not known.
Mara understood immediately.
Bianca had not told him yet.
Luca noticed too.
Charles recovered.
“Congratulations.”
Mara said nothing.
“Who is the father?”
Luca’s gaze became colder.
Charles looked between them.
Then the politician vanished for half a second.
Fear appeared.
Mara had seen Bianca show the same expression at the cemetery.
Charles understood what the baby might mean.
Not politically.
Personally.
Luca opened the front door.
“Mara is leaving.”
Charles’ smile returned.
“She has contractual responsibilities.”
“Your contract is fraudulent.”
“That is an accusation.”
“It will become a filing tomorrow morning.”
Charles looked at Mara.
“You should think carefully before allowing outsiders to interfere in your life.”
Luca stepped closer.
“Choose your next words carefully.”
Charles’ eyes hardened.
Mara walked through the front door.
For the first time in three years, nobody ordered her back.
In the car, she began shaking.
Luca did not touch her.
He simply waited.
After several minutes, Mara whispered, “I think the baby is yours.”
Luca looked at her.
“I know.”
“You can’t know.”
“I can count.”
“That isn’t proof.”
“No.”
He paused.
“But I remember that night.”
“So do I.”
“I remember what we did.”
Mara stared out the window.
“I found out twelve weeks later.”
“Why didn’t you look for me?”
She turned.
“I didn’t know who you were.”
“You could have returned to the hotel.”
“And asked for the mysterious man named Luca who had security guards pretending they weren’t guards?”
A reluctant smile touched his mouth.
“That might have worked.”
“I was ashamed.”
His smile disappeared.
“Of me?”
“Of everything.”
Mara looked down at her hands.
“I had just lost my marriage.”
She swallowed.
“Then I realized I was pregnant by a man whose last name I didn’t know.”
“Mara.”
“I thought you would assume I wanted money.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know myself.”
She looked at him.
“People with power always believe they know what they would do until someone without power stands in front of them.”
Luca absorbed that.
“Fair.”
She was surprised again.
He did not argue simply because he could.
“If the baby is mine, I want to be part of his or her life.”
Mara’s shoulders stiffened.
“But not by taking control from you.”
She studied him.
“You mean that?”
“Yes.”
“And if I don’t want to live in one of your mansions?”
“Then don’t.”
“If I don’t want your employees following me?”
“We negotiate security.”
“If I don’t want to marry you?”
Luca stared at her.
“Mara, I learned I might be a father approximately four hours ago.”
Despite herself, she laughed.
It was the first real laugh she had produced in months.
Luca’s face softened.
“I am not proposing.”
“Good.”
“I’m offended by how relieved you sound.”
She laughed again.
Then the laughter vanished when Luca’s phone rang.
He answered.
Mercer spoke rapidly on the other end.
Luca’s expression darkened.
“When?”
He listened.
“Send it.”
The call ended.
Mara waited.
Luca’s phone received an image.
He turned the screen toward her.
It showed her mother’s death certificate.
Mara had seen it dozens of times.
But one detail had been highlighted.
The physician who signed Eleanor Whitfield’s cancer diagnosis had received a payment of four hundred thousand dollars from a Thorne-controlled company two weeks after Eleanor died.
Mara stared at the screen.
“What does that mean?”
Luca did not answer immediately.
Mara’s voice broke.
“Luca.”
“It means we need the original medical records.”
“And if they were altered?”
May you like
His eyes met hers.
“Then your mother may have been murdered very slowly.”
