Chapter 1 - THE MOMENT HE SAW THEM
Luca Moretti had stared down hostile boards, federal investigators, and men who had threatened to destroy billion-dollar deals.
Nothing had ever made him freeze.
Until he saw my children.
“Nia?”
His voice cut through the restaurant like a knife.
I stopped breathing.
Across the white tablecloth, my eight-year-old son, Noah, looked up from his cheeseburger. Beside him, his twin sister, Naomi, was holding a fork halfway to her mouth.
Luca stood ten feet away.
His new wife’s hand rested on his arm.
Every head in Chicago’s most exclusive restaurant seemed to turn at once.
I hadn’t seen my ex-husband in eight years.
He was still tall. Still broad-shouldered. Still dressed like every second of his life cost more than most people made in a month.
But he wasn’t looking at me anymore.
He was looking at Noah.
Then Naomi.
Then Noah again.
His face went white.
Naomi frowned.
And there it was.
That tiny crease between her eyebrows.
Luca had the exact same crease.
My stomach dropped.
“Mom,” Noah whispered, “why is that guy staring at us?”
I pushed my chair back.
“We’re leaving.”
Luca moved before I could stand.
He came toward us fast.
“Nia, wait.”
“Don’t.”
My voice came out sharper than I expected.
His wife, Evelyn, stayed near the entrance, perfectly still in a cream-colored dress.
Luca ignored her.
His eyes never left the twins.
“How old are they?”
The question hit me harder than a slap.
“None of your business.”
“Nia.”
“Move.”
“How old?”
Noah looked between us.
“Mom?”
I grabbed my purse.
Luca stepped closer.
“Please.”
That stopped me.
Luca Moretti did not say please.
Not to employees.
Not to competitors.
Not even to waiters.
His eyes looked almost wild now.
“How old are they?”
I swallowed.
“Eight.”
The color drained from his face.
Eight years.
He was calculating.
Of course he was.
Luca calculated everything.
He looked at Noah’s dark eyes. Naomi’s black hair. Their olive skin. The shape of Noah’s jaw.
His jaw.
“No,” he whispered.
I reached for Naomi’s hand.
Luca blocked the aisle.
“Are they mine?”
Evelyn sucked in a breath behind him.
I heard silverware stop.
I heard someone at the next table whisper.
But all I could hear clearly was my heartbeat.
“Get out of my way.”
“Nia, answer me.”
“You lost the right to ask me questions a long time ago.”
His face tightened.
“I asked you if those children are mine.”
“And I said move.”
Noah suddenly stood up.
“Don’t yell at my mom.”
Luca looked down at him.
For one terrible second, nobody moved.
Then Noah lifted his chin.
Exactly like Luca did when he was angry.
Luca’s lips parted.
I saw the truth land inside him.
Not suspicion.
Not possibility.
Recognition.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed.
Evelyn finally approached.
“Luca, maybe we should go.”
He didn’t even look at her.
“Nia.”
His voice broke.
I hated that it affected me.
I hated that somewhere underneath all those years, a small part of me still remembered the man who used to kiss my forehead while I slept.
That man was gone.
I had buried him.
“I’m taking my children home.”
“Our children?”
The words came out so quietly I almost pretended I hadn’t heard them.
I turned.
Luca stared at me.
“Are they our children?”
My throat burned.
Then Naomi spoke.
“Mom, who is he?”
I looked at my daughter.
Then at the man who had once been my entire world.
May you like
And before I could answer, Luca said the words I had spent eight years praying I would never hear.
“I think I’m your father.”
