Chapter 3 - The Doctor Who Vanished
The name hung between us like smoke.
Nicholas Varen had delivered babies, stitched bullet wounds, treated fevers, and signed death certificates for the Moretti family for nearly twenty years.
Then one morning, he simply vanished.
At the time, Adrian told me Varen had moved to Europe.
I had believed him.
Now I could not imagine why.
“You said he retired,” I whispered.
Adrian rubbed a hand over his mouth. “That’s what I was told.”
“By whom?”
“Rafael.”
His uncle.
The name made my stomach tighten.
Rafael Moretti had never liked me. Not because I was poor or weak or unsuitable. I came from a respectable family and had built my own career in luxury hotel design long before meeting Adrian.
Rafael disliked me because Adrian listened to me.
“Your uncle told you the family doctor disappeared to Europe, and you never checked?”
“I had bigger problems at the time.”
“You were divorcing me.”
His eyes met mine. “Yes.”
A contraction tightened across my abdomen.
I sucked in a breath.
Adrian moved instantly. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“That didn’t look like nothing.”
Dr. Patel checked the monitor. “Braxton Hicks, likely. But stress is not helping.”
Adrian looked guilty.
I almost enjoyed it.
Then the monitor beeped.
Our daughter’s heart rate dipped.
Every person in the room moved at once.
A nurse rolled me onto my side. Oxygen went under my nose. Dr. Patel watched the tracing.
Adrian stood frozen at the edge of the room, hands clenched.
“Come on, sweetheart,” I whispered.
The heart rate rose again.
The nurse exhaled.
Dr. Patel said, “We’re admitting you overnight.”
“No argument,” Adrian said.
I glared at him.
He raised both hands. “Sorry.”
An hour later, I was in a private room under a false name that even Adrian’s men did not know.
Marco stood outside the hallway pretending to read sports news on his phone.
Adrian sat across from me with his jacket off.
For fifteen minutes, neither of us spoke.
Finally, I asked, “Why did you divorce me?”
He looked up.
“You know why.”
“No. I know what you said. That things were changing. That enemies were getting closer. That I would be safer without your name.”
“That was true.”
“Was it the whole truth?”
His silence answered first.
I felt anger rise slowly.
“What did Rafael tell you?”
Adrian stared at the floor.
“Elena.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That someone inside the organization had put a price on you.”
My breath caught.
“How much?”
“Two million.”
I laughed in disbelief. “And instead of telling me, you divorced me?”
“I thought removing you from me would remove the motive.”
“You thought breaking my heart was protection.”
“Yes.”
“You arrogant bastard.”
“I know.”
That stopped me.
Adrian had never admitted that so quickly in his life.
He leaned forward.
“I had Marco watch you for three weeks after the divorce.”
My eyes narrowed. “You what?”
“From a distance.”
“You had me followed?”
“Yes.”
“I moved twice because I thought I was being followed.”
“That was probably Marco.”
I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him.
He caught it.
“Do you understand how terrifying that was?”
“Yes.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do now.”
He put the pillow down gently.
“Then I called him off because I realized if someone was watching my men, they could use them to find you.”
“Wonderful.”
“I made mistakes.”
“You made a lifestyle out of them.”
His mouth almost moved into a smile.
I hated that too.
Marco entered without knocking.
Adrian’s eyes sharpened. “What?”
“We found Varen.”
I sat up.
“Where?”
Marco looked at me before answering. “Wisconsin.”
Adrian stood. “Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Bring him.”
Marco hesitated.
“What?” Adrian asked.
“He’s in a monastery.”
I blinked.
Adrian stared.
“A monastery?”
“Outside Green Bay. Living under his mother’s maiden name.”
“Why?”
“He won’t say over the phone.”
Adrian grabbed his jacket.
I pointed at him. “Do not leave.”
He stopped.
The old Adrian would have told me I was safe and left anyway.
This Adrian asked, “What do you want me to do?”
“Bring him here without scaring him.”
Marco coughed suspiciously.
I looked at him. “You heard me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And if anybody threatens him, I will personally testify about it.”
Marco looked at Adrian.
Adrian said, “Do what she says.”
Marco left.
I stared at my ex-husband.
“That sentence looked painful.”
“It was unbearable.”
For the first time that night, I laughed.
It did not last.
At two in the morning, someone tried to access my hospital chart remotely.
The hospital’s cybersecurity system flagged the login because it came from an inactive physician credential.
The name attached to the credential was Dr. Nicholas Varen.
But Varen was three hours away, asleep under supervision.
Which meant someone else had his access.
By dawn, Marco had traced the login attempt to a private network in downtown Chicago.
The address belonged to Moretti Tower.
Adrian’s headquarters.
“This is internal,” he said.
I watched snow begin to dust the dark rooftops outside the hospital window.
“Your organization is trying to access my pregnancy records.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then find out.”
His eyes met mine.
“I will.”
At seven-thirty, Nicholas Varen arrived.
He looked nothing like the polished physician I remembered.
His hair was gray. His hands shook. He had lost at least thirty pounds.
When he saw me, he stopped in the doorway.
“Oh God.”
I stared at him.
“What did you do to me?”
He began to cry.
Adrian moved toward him.
I held up a hand.
“Let him speak.”
Varen sank into the chair.
“I thought you were dead.”
My skin went cold.
“Why would you think I was dead?”
He looked at Adrian.
Then at my stomach.
When he saw how pregnant I was, his face collapsed.
“No,” he whispered.
“What?” Adrian demanded.
Varen shook his head.
“No. No, no, no.”
I gripped the bedrail.
“What are you afraid of?”
He stared at my belly.
May you like
Then he said the sentence that changed everything.
“Because Elena was never supposed to be able to carry a Moretti child.”
