He Put His Adopted Daughter Before Our Baby

The night I went into labor, my husband, Marco, got a desperate call from his adopted daughter, Livia. She said someone was following her, that she was going to die. Marco did not even look back. He pushed me into the family safe room and ordered every bodyguard to go with him. "Elena, I'm locking the door to protect you. I'll take her to the doctor and come straight back." I called to him through the door. I told him I was bleeding, that the baby might not wait for him. Twelve hours later the safe room opened again. I lived. My daughter Sofia did not. By then, Marco had already taken Livia to Switzerland and sent a lawyer to serve me divorce papers. He claimed that only as her husband could he get her admitted to the family's best private clinic. I signed the papers and left Cold Harbor with my child's ashes. Five years later I was at a harbor cleanup with my daughter when I ran into Marco again. He looked at my volunteer vest and Mia's worn little sneakers, then sneered and shoved a stack of cash at me. "You stayed away for five years just to raise my daughter like this?" Before I could tell him he had the wrong child, Livia dug her fingers into Mia's arm. Later, they locked me inside a refrigerated container at fourteen degrees Fahrenheit and waited for the port's real owner to deal with the "con artist impersonating Mrs. Moretti." That ended when a convoy of black cars filled the dock. A man known throughout the East Coast underworld as the Don stepped out carrying my son. Mia reached for him through her tears. "Daddy, save Mommy." The second time I saw Marco Bellini was at the east docks of Cold Harbor. It was community cleanup day ahead of the harbor redevelopment. I wore an orange volunteer vest and held a plastic bottle, while Mia crouched beside me, dropping shards of glass into a designated bin one by one. "Mommy, does this count as trash?" "It does. Don't touch the edges." I had just settled her glove back into place when a voice I had not heard in five years sounded behind me. "Elena?" My hand went still. When I turned, Marco stood about fifty feet away in a sharply tailored black coat, several Bellini men behind him. The woman on his arm had not changed much either. The young woman who once kept her head down and apologized for everything was now Livia Kohl, her neck draped in jewelry. Marco stared at me for a long moment before his gaze settled on Mia. She was just over three, with dark hair and gray-blue eyes, exactly the age when people tried to see her father in her face. Marco's face darkened by degrees. "You had the baby?" Before I could answer, he strode toward us, his gaze sweeping over my dusty vest and Mia's worn sneakers. "Five years without a word, so you could take my daughter around picking up trash on a dock?" I stared at him, hardly able to believe what I was hearing. Five years ago, he had left in a hurry. He had been gone before he could learn what I lost inside that safe room. That evening I was already having regular contractions. Marco was driving me to the Bellini private clinic himself when Livia called. All I could hear on the line was crying. She said someone was following her, that an old injury had flared up, that she might not live through the night. Marco changed course on the spot and took me instead to the family safe house nearest the clinic. "This is the safest place." He pushed me into the inner room. "I'll take her to the doctor and be back soon." I caught his sleeve. "Marco, I'm bleeding." He looked down at the blood on my skirt and hesitated. Then another scream from Livia burst through the phone. He let go of me at once. "I'll leave you two men." "I need a doctor." "Someone might be watching her. A doctor's car would expose the location." "Then take me to a hospital." He frowned as if I were throwing a tantrum. "Elena, can you stop competing with her for once?" I went still. The next second he pressed the electronic lock. To guard against attacks, once a safe house goes into lockdown, the people inside cannot open the outer steel door themselves. It has to be released from outside. I shouted through the door that something was wrong with the pain, that the baby might be coming. He was already gone. The only message he sent back was, "Wait for me." But he took the two guards who were supposed to stay. All because Livia said she had seen a gun. Twelve hours later, the first patrol of the morning lifted the lockdown. They found me on the floor. I lived. My daughter Sofia did not. And at that same hour Marco boarded a private plane to Switzerland. Livia needed admission to an exclusive residential clinic used by the Bellini family, which accepted only core members and immediate relatives. Three days later, a lawyer brought divorce papers to my hospital room. Marco said over the phone, "It's only paperwork. She needs a legal relationship to the family. I'll come back once it's handled." I signed. I never told him Sofia had died. Later, I left Cold Harbor holding a tiny urn and never looked back. Until today. "She isn't yours." Pulling myself out of the memory, I took Mia's hand. Marco sneered. "You're as stubborn as ever." Livia sighed softly beside him. "Marco, don't push her. She's raised a child alone for five years. Of course she's struggled. She's probably too proud to admit she needs help." As she spoke, she drew several bills from her purse and held them out to Mia. "Here. Buy yourself a new pair of shoes, all right?" Mia did not take it. "Mommy says not to take money from strangers." Livia's smile stiffened. I took my daughter's hand and turned away. Marco clamped a hand around my wrist. "Elena, I'm giving you a way out of this." "Let go." "Come back with me. I'll overlook the fact that you disappeared without a word five years ago." I looked at him, and suddenly the woman who had waited desperately for that safe-room door to open felt like someone else. "Marco," I said calmly, "we've been divorced for five years. "You have no right to hold anything against me."Marco looked furious. He hated losing control more than anything. That had been true five years ago, and it was still true now. "The divorce was only to save her. It didn't mean I stopped wanting you." He said it like it was self-evident. I could not help laughing. "So you thought I'd stay right where you left me and wait for five years?" "At the very least, you shouldn't have hidden my child from me." "I told you, she isn't yours." Mia lifted her little face. "I already have a daddy." Marco looked down at her and actually softened his voice. "Your mommy is angry with me. That's why she says that." Mia hid behind my leg. Livia stepped forward as if she were trying to help. "Let it go. She's little. Don't frighten her. Elena, if you really need money, I happen to have an opening for a personal assistant." She looked at the mud-spotted volunteer badge on my chest. "The pay would be good. Certainly more respectable than temping on the docks." "Livia." Marco laughed quietly. "You're too soft-hearted." I had no interest in playing along. The port's north section still needed a final safety inspection that day. Adrian had planned to come with me, but an emergency board meeting pulled him away. I had promised to keep Mia in the volunteer area and stay clear of the construction line. Running into those two was bad enough. Worse, Marco was there to bid on the new harbor's cold-chain logistics contract. The Bellini family's business had been declining for years, and he needed access to the Moretti docks. And he clearly did not know I had been a Moretti for four years. I was not going to explain it there. "Mia, we're going." She came along without a fuss. As we neared the rest area, she said softly, "Mommy, I'm thirsty." The Moretti family kept a private lounge in the construction zone, stocked with children's supplies. I let us in with my keycard and settled Mia on the sofa. "Give me two minutes. I'll get you some water next door." But when I came back, a crowd had gathered outside the door. Livia was inside, gripping Mia by the wrist. "I only wanted to look at her bracelet and she bit me." Mia's face was red from crying. "She's trying to take what Daddy gave me!" It was a thin silver chain bearing the old Moretti crest. Adrian did not like children wearing expensive jewelry, so he had a craftsman make two plain little tags, one for each child. Livia clearly did not recognize it. A red ring had formed around Mia's wrist beneath Livia's fingers. I crossed the room and knocked Livia's hand away. "Don't touch my daughter." Livia stumbled back, her eyes immediately welling with tears. "I was only trying to be kind—" "Does your kindness usually leave finger marks?" Before she could finish, Marco rushed in. He saw the bite mark Mia had left on the back of Livia's hand, then saw me shielding my daughter. His first instinct was not to ask what had happened. It was to grab my shoulder. "What are you making a scene about now?" That sentence was word for word the same as five years ago. I shoved him off. Marco froze for a beat. Then his anger flared. "Elena!" "She touched the child first." "Livia would never hurt a small child on purpose." "So those marks around Mia's wrist just appeared on their own?" Marco looked down, saw the ring of red, and something in his expression finally moved. Livia burst into tears. "I only thought the chain looked like one Marco gave me years ago, and I wanted a closer look. She bit me out of nowhere, and I held on tighter without thinking... I'm sorry. I didn't realize she was so shy around strangers." With one sentence, she turned theft into a misunderstanding. As expected, Marco's brow eased. "You hear that? It was a misunderstanding." All at once, my anger vanished. Five years ago, I would have fought his favoritism, forced him to examine the evidence, and demanded to know why he did not believe me. Now I only wanted to leave. "Move." "You're not going anywhere." Marco blocked the door. "This is a Moretti private lounge. Where did you get that keycard?" Only then did Livia seem to take in the room. Her gaze moved slowly over everything around us. Adrian's personal folder sat on the table and his coat hung by the wall. Her expression changed. "Elena, you aren't... here waiting for Mr. Moretti, are you?" The insinuation in her voice made several nearby contractors turn to look at me. I could not be bothered to explain. I pulled out my phone to call security. Marco snatched the phone out of my hand. "What exactly are you doing?" "Give it back." "Answer me first." I reached for it. He stepped back and the phone slipped out of his hand and hit the stone floor hard. The screen shattered completely. Mia started crying in fright. That snapped the last thread of my patience."Enough." I picked Mia up and looked at Marco coldly. "Everything that happened here today is on camera. "I don't need you to believe me and I don't need an apology. "Let security handle it." A project manager scoffed, "Security? Ma'am, you trespassed in Mr. Moretti's private lounge, and now you're threatening us?" He knew Marco. More precisely, he knew Marco was bidding for the new harbor contract, so he instinctively sided with him. Livia said softly, "Don't be hard on her. She was always proud. She probably just heard Mr. Moretti would be here today and wanted to try her luck." Marco's face went dark instantly. "Elena, you really are here for him?" "That's none of your business." To him those words were obviously a confession. "You have a child and you're doing this?" "Marco." I looked straight at him. "You had better shut up." Infuriated by my tone, he reached for Mia. "Hand her over. I can't stop you from ruining your own life, but I won't watch my daughter go down with you." Mia shrieked and locked her arms around my neck. "You're not my daddy!" Marco went livid. Without warning, Livia grabbed Mia around the waist and tried to wrench her away. "Don't be scared, come with us—" Mia struggled, and Livia actually raised her hand and struck the child. The crack of the blow froze everyone. A roar filled my head. I lunged forward, snatched Mia back, and slapped Livia across the face. "Touch her one more time and see what happens." Livia covered her cheek and the tears came instantly. Marco seized my wrist. "Have you lost your mind?" "You're the ones who've lost it." "She was only trying to help!" "Does helping involve hitting a child?" "You've raised her with no discipline at all!" I looked at him and suddenly thought of Sofia. If that child had lived, she would have been five by now. Would she have called for me too, the way Mia does when she is afraid? The hatred I had held down for five years surged up all at once. "She isn't your daughter," I said, enunciating every word. "Her last name is Moretti." The room went quiet for a second. Then someone laughed. "Moretti?" "You mean the Moretti family from the East Coast?" Livia laughed too, tears still on her lashes. "Elena, even if you want Marco to give up on you, you don't have to go that far." Marco's expression only got worse. "You'll even say a thing like that?" I understood then that explaining further was a waste of time. I held Mia tight and turned to leave. Several contractors blocked the door. "Don't let her run." The project manager lowered his voice. "If she really is impersonating Mrs. Moretti, Mr. Moretti will demand answers when he arrives. Holding her here would count as solving a problem for him." Marco did not stop them. Livia certainly did not. "Don't hurt the child," she even added, for show. Two men grabbed me from behind and held me down. Mia threw herself toward me in tears, but Livia caught her. "Mommy!" "Let go of her!" I fought as hard as I could, hit my shoulder on the door frame, and my vision went black with the pain. Someone suggested locking me in the old cold-storage area so I could not run off. Marco frowned. "It's too cold in there." I thought there was some humanity in him after all. But his next words were, "Lock her up for fifteen minutes. Then we'll see what the Moretti people want to do when they get here." Fifteen minutes. Five years ago he also said he would be right back. I stopped struggling. As they shoved me into a refrigerated container pending inspection, I looked back at Marco. "You had better remember today." Something in his face shifted. The steel door closed in front of me. The cold went into my bones fast. I wrapped my arms around myself and pressed my back to the container wall, grateful for only one thing: they had not shoved Mia in with me. But my child's sobs never stopped outside the door. A little over ten minutes later, her sobs turned shrill. "Don't pinch me! "You horrible woman!" I threw myself at the door. "Mia!" Nobody answered me. I lost track of how much time passed before my fingertips began to go numb. Just as my mind began to blur, I heard engines approaching in unison. Then someone outside cried out. "Mr. Moretti is here."Adrian had only planned to come to the port to sign one document. When he stepped out with Leo in his arms, he ignored the contractors waiting for him. "Where's Elena?" The project manager blinked. Marco was standing right there and switched instantly to a courteous smile. "Mr. Moretti, it's an honor. Marco Bellini—" Adrian did not even break stride. "I asked where my wife is." The air went still. Marco's smile froze by degrees. Livia was holding Mia, her fingers still digging into the child's shoulder. At the familiar voice, Mia snapped her head up. "Daddy!" Leo leaned out of Adrian's arms too. "Mia?" Those two calls rang out like gunshots. Marco froze. Adrian had already reached Livia. He saw his daughter's swollen face first, then the finger marks on her arm. He did not shout. He only put out a hand. "Mia, come here." Livia let go on instinct. The child threw herself into her father's arms and cried until she could barely speak. "They locked Mommy up." Adrian's eyes finally changed. "Where?" Mia pointed at the cold storage area. He handed both children to the bodyguards who had come with him. When he turned, his voice was very low. "Seal the port." Nobody dared move. Several security officers ran for the cold storage. By the time the door opened I was curled in the corner. Adrian came in himself. I heard footsteps and managed to open my eyes. He crouched down and wrapped his coat around me, and his hand shook noticeably when it touched my cold face. "Elena." "Mm." "Look at me." I forced my eyes open and managed a faint smile. "You're a little late." "I'm sorry." He lifted me up. I leaned into him and finally let my eyes close. As we passed Marco, I felt Adrian's arms tighten slightly around me. Marco's voice came out hoarse. "She... she really is your wife?" Adrian stopped. He did not answer a question that no longer needed answering. He simply turned to the head of port security. "Secure every second of footage. "Nobody who laid a hand on my wife or my daughter leaves. "Call the police." The project manager went white. Livia took two steps back. It was as if Marco finally woke up. "Adrian, this is all a misunderstanding." "A misunderstanding?" It was the first time Adrian looked directly at him. "You put a woman in a refrigerated container and hit a three-year-old hard enough to leave her face swollen. "Tell me which part of that is the misunderstanding." Marco opened his mouth. Nothing came out.