Chapter 4 - THE WRITTEN SUMMONS
The paper arrived at midnight.
Not by mail. Not by courier.
Marco Bell personally stood outside my walk-up apartment door, knocking three measured times.
When I opened the door an inch on the security chain, he passed a folded hospital prescription pad through the gap. On it, in jagged, weak blue ink that shook with neurological fatigue, was a single sentence:
I know who you are, Clara. Bring Sofia’s daughter to me before Vincent finds the garage drive.
I stared at the handwriting.
My knees went weak.
“How long has he known?” I whispered through the door.
“He’s known since the day you started working on the fourth floor two years ago,” Marco said softly through the wood. “He saw your employment application. He let you stay because he knew you were hiding. He paid off the hospital administration to ensure you were never reassigned to another building.”
My breath hitched. Two years. Two years of dusting windows, scrubbing floors, and watching his guards from across the room, thinking I was invisible.
“Why didn't he confront me?” I demanded, opening the door wider.
“Because Dario knew if he reached out to you, Vincent’s surveillance would catch it,” Marco explained, his eyes scanning the dark hallway behind him. “Dario was protecting you. For seven years, Dario thought Sofia died in that bus crash alone. He didn't know about the baby until three weeks ago.”
“Three weeks ago?” I repeated. “The night he was attacked?”
Marco nodded slowly. “The night he was struck down in the headquarters garage, he wasn't meeting a business contact. He was meeting a private investigator who had finally pieced together the Vermont hospital records. Dario found out Sofia had given birth before she died. Vincent found out ten minutes later. That’s why Dario ended up in a coma.”
The truth hit me like physical cold water.
Dario hadn't ordered Sofia’s destruction. Dario had been spent seven years searching for the truth. And the attack that nearly took his life was Vincent trying to seal the final secret of the Kane family fortune.
“Vincent knows about Lucia,” I whispered, horror rising in my chest.
“Not yet,” Marco said. “Vincent thinks the child in the room today was just a staff kid who wandered in. But Vincent’s security team is going through Room 412’s visitor logs right now. By morning, he’ll know your real name is Elena Reyes.”
“We have to leave the city,” I said frantically, turning toward the bedroom where Lucia was sleeping.
“You won't make it to the highway,” Marco said firmly. “Vincent’s men are watching the bus terminals and the bridges. Your only play is inside St. Adrian’s. Dario has the safety deposit key to the maritime vault, but he needs the black drive Sofia gave you seven years ago.”
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“I buried that drive in my mother’s garden in Stamford,” I said.
“Then dig it up,” Marco said, pulling a set of car keys from his pocket. “Because at 8:00 AM tomorrow, Vincent is taking Dario off life-support under a fraudulent medical directive. If Dario dies, Vincent gets full legal control of Kane Maritime—and you and Lucia become loose ends.”
