Dr. Karen Whitmore glanced toward the nurses’ station before speaking.

“Mr. Marchetti, Elena wasn’t simply found unconscious. She appears to have been involved in a violent confrontation.”

My jaw тιԍнтened.

“Explain.”

“She was discovered in an underground parking garage by a security guard. She had a serious head injury, bruising around both wrists, and signs that someone may have attempted to restrain her.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“Someone attacked her?”

“We cannot confirm exactly what happened yet. The police are investigating. However, there’s something else.”

She paused.

“Her personal belongings were missing. Her handbag, phone, identification, and car keys were all gone. Whoever was involved may have deliberately taken them.”

I turned toward Marco.

“Lock down every entrance to this hospital. Get the parking garage footage. I want to know who brought her here and who left.”

Marco nodded.

“Understood, boss.”

Dr. Whitmore raised a hand.

“Please understand that this is a hospital, Mr. Marchetti. We won’t allow armed personnel to interfere with medical care.”

I looked at her.

“Nobody will interfere with your work. I only want my wife protected.”

The doctor studied me for a moment.

“Then you should know that the pregnancy is currently stable, but the next twenty-four hours are important. Elena needs rest and close monitoring.”

I swallowed.

“Can I see her?”

“Once the imaging is complete.”

I looked through the glᴀss doors at the corridor where they had taken her.

Six years of marriage.

Three months of separation.

And sixteen weeks of pregnancy.

I had missed everything.

Twenty-five minutes later, a nurse finally allowed me into Elena’s room.

The moment I saw her, something inside me broke.

She lay beneath a white blanket, her dark hair scattered across the pillow. A bandage covered the left side of her forehead, and an IV line ran into her arm.

Her face looked thinner than I remembered.

I approached her bed slowly.

“Elena…”

She didn’t move.

I pulled a chair beside her and took her hand.

The wedding ring was gone.

I stared at the pale mark where it had once rested.

I remembered our wedding day. She had been so nervous that she’d dropped her bouquet before walking down the aisle.

I’d laughed, caught it, and whispered that I would never let her fall.

What a pathetic promise that had become.

I pressed her fingers against my forehead.

“I’m sorry.”

My voice sounded unfamiliar.

“I’m sorry I let you believe I never loved you. I’m sorry I let you walk away thinking six years meant nothing.”

I looked toward her stomach.

“There’s a baby, Elena. Our baby.”

My throat тιԍнтened.

“You should have told me.”

But even as I said it, I knew I had no right to blame her.

I had been the one who told her our marriage was a lie.

I had been the one who signed the divorce papers without explaining why.

I had been the one who watched her walk away.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.

Marco entered.

“Boss, we have something.”

I stood.

“What?”

“We recovered surveillance footage from the parking garage. There’s a black SUV that entered twelve minutes before Elena was found.”

“License plate?”

“Covered.”

“Driver?”

“Not yet identified. But we have footage of someone following Elena into the garage.”

He handed me a tablet.

I watched the recording.

Elena stepped out of an elevator carrying a small handbag. She looked around nervously before walking toward her car.

A man appeared behind her.

He followed her for several seconds.

Then the camera angle changed.

The next recording showed Elena lying on the ground.

The man was gone.

I clenched my jaw.

“Find him.”

Marco nodded.

Then he hesitated.

“There’s another thing. A witness says Elena was arguing with someone before the incident.”

“Who?”

Marco lowered his voice.

“Your uncle, Salvatore.”

I stared at him.

“My uncle was there?”

“The witness believes so.”

I looked back at Elena.

Salvatore had been one of the people who encouraged my divorce.

He had told me that Elena was a weakness, that enemies would use her against me, and that I needed to cut every emotional connection before taking control of the family’s business.

I’d listened.

God help me, I’d listened.

“Find Salvatore,” I ordered.

“Alive and unharmed?”

I looked directly at him.

“Bring him to me. I want answers, not another crime scene.”

At 1:30 a.m., my mother arrived.

Isabella Marchetti entered the private hospital lounge wearing a black coat and a diamond necklace. She looked worried, but her expression changed when she noticed me.

“Nico, darling.”

“Why are you here?”

“I heard about Elena. I wanted to see whether you were all right.”

I laughed bitterly.

“She’s the one in the hospital, Mother.”

She glanced toward the hallway.

“How serious is it?”

“She’s sixteen weeks pregnant.”

My mother froze.

“What?”

“She’s carrying my child.”

For several seconds, she didn’t speak.

Then she lowered herself into a chair.

“That’s impossible.”

I stared at her.

“Why?”

She shook her head.

“Because she was supposed to be gone.”

The words escaped her before she could stop them.

I slowly stepped closer.

“What did you say?”

She looked up.

“Nico, I didn’t mean—”

“Finish that sentence.”

She swallowed.

“Your uncle and I believed the divorce was the best decision for everyone.”

I felt my hands тιԍнтen.

“Did you know she was pregnant?”

“No.”

“Did you know someone was following her?”

She looked away.

“Mother.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I only wanted to protect you.”

I had heard those words too many times.

“Protect me from my own wife?”

“She was never going to understand your world.”

“She understood enough to love me.”

My mother stood.

“Love doesn’t keep a family alive in our world.”

I looked at her coldly.

“Neither does betrayal.”

She reached for my arm, but I stepped away.

“Go home.”

“Nico—”

“Now.”

She left without another word.

But something about her reaction stayed with me.

She hadn’t looked surprised when I mentioned the divorce.

She hadn’t even looked surprised that Elena was pregnant.

She had looked afraid.

At 2:10 a.m., Dr. Whitmore returned.

“Mr. Marchetti, Elena’s condition has stabilized. She has a concussion, but there’s no indication of immediate life-threatening complications.”

I exhaled.

“And the baby?”

“The heartbeat remains stable. We’ll continue monitoring both of them.”

“Can I see her?”

“She’s beginning to regain consciousness.”

I nearly ran toward the room.

When I entered, Elena’s eyes were half-open.

“Elena?”

She turned her head slightly.

For a moment, she seemed confused.

Then she saw me.

Her expression changed.

Fear.

Not relief.

Not happiness.

Fear.

She immediately tried to pull her hand away.

“Nico…”

“I’m here.”

“Please…”

Her voice was weak.

I leaned closer.

“You’re safe. Nobody is going to hurt you.”

She shook her head.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The words cut deeper than I expected.

“Elena, you were unconscious. I was listed as your emergency contact.”

She closed her eyes.

“Of course.”

I sat beside her.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the baby?”

Her eyes opened.

For a moment, she looked at me with an expression I couldn’t understand.

Then she whispered:

“Would you have believed me?”

I had no answer.

She looked toward the ceiling.

“Three months ago, you told me our marriage was a lie. You said you had never loved me. Why would I call you to tell you I was pregnant?”

I lowered my head.

“Because I should have been there.”

She gave a weak, humorless laugh.

“You weren’t there when I needed you.”

I reached for her hand.

She moved it away.

“Don’t.”

I stopped immediately.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that because you feel guilty.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true.”

She turned her face toward me.

“Then tell me something, Nico. Was there ever another woman?”

I froze.

“No.”

“Not even once?”

“Never.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“Then why did you destroy us?”

I looked at her for several seconds.

Because the truth was dangerous.

But keeping it from her had already cost me everything.

“Six months before our divorce, I discovered that Salvatore had been using companies connected to the Marchetti family to move money through accounts ᴀssociated with your name.”

She stared at me.

“What?”

“You never signed those documents. Someone forged your signature. I discovered that the people involved were watching you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I believed that if they thought you were no longer important to me, they would leave you alone.”

She stared at me in disbelief.

“So you decided to make me hate you?”

“I thought it was the only way to keep you safe.”

Her tears slipped onto the pillow.

“You didn’t keep me safe, Nico. You left me alone.”

I lowered my head.

“I know.”

Then she said something that made me look up.

“Salvatore came to see me after the divorce.”

My entire body stiffened.

“When?”

“Three days ago.”

“What did he want?”

She swallowed painfully.

“He told me that I needed to leave Chicago permanently. He said if I stayed, the baby would become a target.”

I stood.

“Did he threaten you?”

“He showed me a pH๏τograph.”

“Of what?”

She looked directly into my eyes.

“A picture of you standing beside another woman.”

I shook my head.

“That was fabricated.”

“I don’t know anymore, Nico. I don’t know what was real and what was a lie.”

I sat down again.

“Elena, look at me. I have never loved anyone except you.”

She closed her eyes.

“Please don’t make promises you might break.”

I couldn’t force her to believe me.

Then she whispered:

“There was something else.”

“What?”

“Salvatore told me your father was still alive.”

The room seemed to stop.

I stared at her.

“My father has been ᴅᴇᴀᴅ for seven years.”

“I know what the family told everyone.”

“Elena…”

“He said your father wanted to meet his grandchild.”

I gripped the edge of the chair.

“Did you see him?”

She nodded weakly.

“Not directly. But Salvatore showed me a pH๏τograph. He said if I didn’t cooperate, the baby would never be allowed to leave the Marchetti family.”

I couldn’t breathe.

My father, Antonio Marchetti, had supposedly died in a private plane crash seven years earlier.

There had been a funeral.

A closed coffin.

A death certificate.

I had spent months mourning him.

And now my wife was telling me that his name had been used to threaten her.

Before I could ask anything else, Elena grabbed my wrist.

“Nico, there’s one more thing.”

I leaned closer.

“What is it?”

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“The night I was attacked, I received a phone call. The person told me they had proof that your father never died.”

“Who called you?”

“I don’t know. But they told me to meet them at the parking garage.”

“Did you recognize the voice?”

She hesitated.

Then she said:

“It sounded like Ava.”

My blood ran cold.

My younger sister.

The only person in my family who had openly supported Elena.

I stared at her.

“Are you sure?”

Elena began crying.

“I know what I heard.”

At 3:05 a.m., I stepped into the corridor and called Marco.

“Where’s Ava?”

“At home, boss. Why?”

“Bring her here.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Just bring her.”

I ended the call.

A few minutes later, Marco returned with another message.

“Boss, we found the witness from the parking garage.”

“Who?”

“An employee from the underground restaurant. She gave the police a statement.”

“Did she identify Salvatore?”

“Yes.”

I waited.

Marco continued.

“But she also identified another person.”

“Who?”

He hesitated.

“Miss Ava Marchetti.”

I stared at him.

“What?”

“The witness says she saw your sister speaking with Elena approximately twenty minutes before the attack.”

I felt the floor shift beneath me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We only received the statement five minutes ago.”

Before I could respond, the elevator doors opened.

Ava stepped out.

Her eyes were red, and she looked as though she hadn’t slept.

“Nico?”

I walked toward her.

“Did you meet Elena three days ago?”

She stopped.

Then slowly nodded.

“Yes.”

“Did you meet her at the parking garage tonight?”

Ava’s expression changed.

“Nico, I can explain.”

“Then explain.”

She looked toward Elena’s room.

“Not here.”

I grabbed her arm, then immediately released it when I saw her flinch.

“Did you know she was pregnant?”

Ava began crying.

“Yes.”

I felt as though someone had punched me.

“How long?”

“Almost three weeks.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

She shook her head.

“Elena begged me not to.”

“Why?”

Ava looked at me with desperate eyes.

“Because she was afraid of what you would do when you discovered the truth.”

I stared at her.

“What truth?”

Ava reached into her handbag and removed a small envelope.

Inside was a pH๏τograph.

It showed a man standing beside a black vehicle outside an old Marchetti property.

His hair was gray.

His face was older.

But I recognized him immediately.

Antonio Marchetti.

My father.

Alive.

On the back of the pH๏τograph was a handwritten message:

The child must never inherit what belongs to him.

I looked at Ava.

“Who gave you this?”

She wiped her tears.

“Elena.”

“Why?”

“Because she wanted me to understand why she couldn’t tell you about the pregnancy.”

I turned the pH๏τograph over again.

Then Ava said something that made my heart stop.

“Nico, Elena didn’t meet Salvatore alone that night. She was trying to escape from someone.”

“Who?”

Ava looked toward the closed hospital room.

Then she whispered:

“Your father.”

At 3:22 a.m., my phone vibrated.

An unknown number.

I answered.

“Who is this?”

A man’s voice came through.

Older.

Calm.

Unmistakable.

“Nico.”

I stopped breathing.

I knew that voice.

I had heard it in childhood, during family dinners, business meetings, and the last night I believed my father was alive.

“Father?”

A quiet laugh came through the speaker.

“You always were a clever boy.”

My fingers тιԍнтened around the phone.

“Where are you?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“You’re supposed to be ᴅᴇᴀᴅ.”

“People believe what they’re told.”

I glanced at Ava.

She was trembling.

Then my father continued.

“I hear you’re going to be a father yourself. Congratulations.”

My blood turned to ice.

“Stay away from Elena.”

“Elena is a very interesting woman. Unfortunately, she knows things she shouldn’t.”

“If you touch her again, I’ll—”

“Careful, Nico. You have eight hundred men, but you still don’t understand who controls the family.”

I stepped away from the nurses’ station.

“What do you want?”

There was a pause.

Then he answered.

“I want my grandchild.”

I felt my stomach turn.

“That child belongs to Elena and me.”

“No, son. That child belongs to the Marchetti bloodline.”

I looked through the glᴀss at Elena.

She was sleeping again, exhausted from everything she had endured.

My father’s voice softened.

“Come to the old estate tomorrow night. Alone. Bring the pH๏τograph your sister has. And don’t involve the police.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Because if you don’t come, the people who attacked Elena will return.”

The call ended.

I stood motionless.

Ava approached me.

“Nico, what did he say?”

I looked at her.

“He wants the baby.”

She covered her mouth.

Then Marco hurried toward us.

“Boss, there’s something you need to see.”

He held out his phone.

A pH๏τograph from the hospital’s exterior security camera.

A man in a dark overcoat was standing across the street, looking directly toward the building.

My father.

And he wasn’t alone.

Beside him stood Salvatore.

But the person standing on the other side made my blood run cold.

It was the woman I had believed was responsible for the financial conspiracy that destroyed my marriage.

My mother, Isabella Marchetti.

I looked at the pH๏τograph, then toward Elena’s room.

For three months, I had believed I divorced my wife to protect her.

Now I understood that the people closest to me had been hiding an entirely different truth.

And the child Elena was carrying might be the reason they had all been willing to destroy her.

But when I returned to her bedside, I discovered that Elena had left me one final message beneath her pillow—a message that began with five words I never expected to read:

Your father is not your father…