Chapter 2 - The Child He Almost Lost
By the time the limousine reached the hospital, Jonathan's white shirt was streaked with rain and crushed flower petals.
Meline's contractions had become closer.
She sat bent forward, one hand gripping the leather seat and the other pressed beneath her stomach.
Jonathan had negotiated multimillion-dollar deals without blinking.
He had once sat through a three-hour interrogation knowing two detectives believed he had ordered a man's death.
None of it prepared him for hearing Meline whisper, "Something's wrong."
Vivien sat opposite them.
She had removed the jeweled pins from her hair and was using one to hold Meline's torn coat closed.
"What's wrong?" Jonathan demanded.
Meline shook her head.
"The baby isn't moving like before."
Enzo ran the red light.
Jonathan leaned toward the front.
"Faster."
"Boss, I'm doing ninety."
"Do ninety-five."
Vivien snapped, "And kill everyone before we arrive?"
Jonathan looked at her.
She pointed at Meline.
"She needs calm."
Meline laughed weakly.
"You're surprisingly useful for someone whose wedding I just ruined."
Vivien's mouth curved.
"You've improved it considerably."
Jonathan stared at both women.
Neither seemed interested in his opinion.
At the emergency entrance, nurses surrounded Meline immediately.
A doctor asked how far along she was.
"Thirty-five weeks."
"Any previous complications?"
"No."
"Bleeding?"
"No."
"Father?"
Jonathan stepped forward.
Meline said, "Complicated."
The nurse blinked.
Vivien almost smiled.
Jonathan did not.
Meline was moved through double doors.
Jonathan followed.
A nurse blocked him.
"Sir."
"I'm going with her."
"Are you her husband?"
"No."
"Boyfriend?"
Jonathan looked toward Meline.
She looked away.
"No."
"Then wait."
The doors closed.
Jonathan stood in the hallway.
For the first time since he was fifteen years old, someone had told him no and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
Vivien sat nearby.
Her wedding gown filled two plastic chairs.
Jonathan looked at her.
"You should go."
"Where?"
"The cathedral."
"To marry myself?"
"Your father will be furious."
"My father is furious when toast is cut unevenly."
"This is different."
"Yes."
She looked at him.
"This matters."
Jonathan leaned against the wall.
"Did you know?"
"About Meline?"
"Yes."
"No."
"My people knew her."
"I didn't."
"Your father?"
Vivien considered.
"Possibly."
Jonathan's eyes sharpened.
She noticed.
"Do not start a war in a maternity ward."
"I'm asking."
"And I'm answering. My father collects information the way other people collect watches. That does not mean he knew she was here."
Jonathan looked toward the doors.
"Marco knew."
"You know that?"
"No."
"Then don't confuse suspicion with evidence."
Jonathan almost laughed.
"You're telling me that?"
"Someone has to."
Her phone began ringing again.
She looked at the screen.
"My father."
Jonathan waited.
She answered.
"Hello, Papa."
Salvatore's voice was loud enough that Jonathan heard fragments.
Where are you?
What happened?
Guests waiting.
Humiliation.
Vivien listened.
Then said calmly, "The wedding is postponed."
Another explosion.
Vivien held the phone away from her ear.
"Yes, I understand what this does to negotiations."
Pause.
"No, Jonathan did not kidnap me."
Longer pause.
"Because I am sitting next to him."
Then her expression changed.
"What?"
Jonathan straightened.
Vivien looked at him.
"When?"
She listened.
"Who told you?"
Another pause.
"Don't touch anyone."
She ended the call.
Jonathan stepped toward her.
"What?"
"Someone fired at one of my father's cars outside the cathedral."
Jonathan's eyes hardened.
"Injuries?"
"Driver wounded. Alive."
"When?"
"Ten minutes after we left."
Jonathan immediately called Rocco.
His oldest friend answered.
"Where the hell are you?"
"Hospital."
Rocco paused.
"Naturally."
"Cathedral."
"I know."
"Whose car?"
"Bianke security vehicle."
"Shooter?"
"Gone."
"Weapon?"
"Rifle."
Jonathan lowered his voice.
"Was it aimed at Salvatore?"
"No."
"What was it aimed at?"
"The rear window."
Jonathan looked at Vivien.
"Your father's car?"
"No."
Rocco breathed out.
"Yours."
Jonathan's stomach tightened.
"My limousine isn't there."
"The decoy is."
Jonathan understood immediately.
His security team had positioned an identical vehicle near the cathedral.
Anyone believing Jonathan remained inside might have fired at it.
Vivien read his expression.
"Someone thought you were in the car."
"Maybe."
"Or wanted everyone to think someone tried to kill you."
Jonathan looked at her.
Smart.
That was why he had agreed to marry Vivien.
Not love.
Not attraction.
She understood rooms.
Rocco continued.
"There's more."
"Say it."
"Marco isn't answering."
Jonathan closed his eyes.
"When did anyone last see him?"
"Before the ceremony."
"Find him."
"I already have people looking."
"No guns in the church."
"I remember."
Jonathan ended the call.
The hospital doors opened.
A doctor stepped out.
"Family of Meline Donnelly?"
Jonathan moved immediately.
"Here."
The doctor looked from him to Vivien in the wedding dress.
Something crossed her face.
She decided not to ask.
"Ms. Donnelly is stable. The baby's heart rate dropped briefly, but it recovered."
Jonathan breathed.
"Is she delivering?"
"We're trying to slow labor. At thirty-five weeks, every additional day can help."
"Can I see her?"
"She requested no visitors."
The words hit harder than Jonathan expected.
Vivien looked at him.
The doctor continued.
"She specifically asked us not to admit anyone named Jonathan Moretti."
Jonathan's jaw tightened.
Vivien stood.
"Doctor, could I see her?"
Jonathan turned.
Vivien shrugged.
"She didn't ban me."
Twenty minutes later, Vivien entered Meline's room.
Jonathan remained outside.
Meline lay beneath white blankets.
Monitors tracked the baby's heartbeat.
She looked exhausted.
Vivien closed the door.
Meline stared.
"Why are you still here?"
"Excellent question."
"I'm sorry."
"For the wedding?"
Meline nodded.
Vivien pulled a chair closer.
"I was about to marry a man who looked through the church window like he was waiting for a firing squad."
Meline gave a weak laugh.
"I may have done both of us a favor."
"Possibly."
Silence.
Then Vivien said, "Jonathan didn't know about the money."
Meline looked away.
"I know."
"How?"
"His face."
Vivien studied her.
"You still know him."
"Unfortunately."
"Do you still love him?"
Meline's eyes filled immediately.
That answered everything.
Vivien leaned back.
"Interesting."
"You don't hate me?"
"I don't know you well enough."
"I'm carrying your fiancé's child."
"Former fiancé, perhaps."
Meline stared.
Vivien continued.
"My marriage to Jonathan was not a romance."
"Does he know that?"
"He wrote half the contract."
Meline laughed despite herself.
The monitor beside her continued its steady rhythm.
Vivien lowered her voice.
"You said someone found you."
Meline's smile vanished.
"Yes."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Jonathan thinks Marco."
"Jonathan used to think Marco could walk on water."
"That appears to be changing."
Meline looked toward the door.
"Eight months ago, I found something."
"What?"
"A shipping invoice."
Vivien's posture changed.
"What kind?"
"Containers coming through Providence under Moretti manifests."
"What's unusual about that?"
"They weren't Moretti containers."
Vivien became still.
"Whose?"
"Bianke."
Now the room felt colder.
Meline continued.
"The paperwork had both families' authorization codes."
"Impossible."
"I thought so too."
"What was inside?"
"I never saw."
"Then why did it matter?"
"Because Luca Moretti died two weeks after asking about the same container numbers."
Vivien stopped breathing.
Jonathan's older brother.
Dead three years.
Officially killed during an argument with an unaffiliated crew.
The death that had started the escalation between Providence and Boston.
"You have proof?"
"I had copies."
"Where?"
Meline's face tightened.
"Marco took them."
Vivien stood.
"Jonathan needs to know."
"No."
"Meline—"
"No."
"He needs—"
"I tried."
Her voice broke.
"I stood in front of him eight months ago and told him someone close to him was setting me up."
Vivien said nothing.
"He chose Marco."
A tear slid toward Meline's ear.
"So Jonathan doesn't need information."
She closed her eyes.
"He needs consequences."
Outside, Jonathan sat alone in the hallway.
His phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
He answered.
No voice.
Only breathing.
Then a man spoke.
"You should have married the Bianke girl."
Jonathan stood.
"Who is this?"
"You had one job today."
The call ended.
A photograph arrived immediately afterward.
Meline selling flowers.
Taken that morning.
Zoomed close.
From across the street.
Someone had been watching her before Jonathan ever arrived.
Then another photograph appeared.
Jonathan entering the hospital.
Beneath it were five words.
YOU BROUGHT US RIGHT TO HER.
Jonathan stared at the screen.
And understood that the woman behind the hospital door had not accidentally crossed his path.
Someone wanted him to see her.
May you like
Someone wanted the wedding stopped.
And someone had just made Meline a target again.
