Chapter 8 - The Man Who Claimed He Was Sorry
Nicholas Varen did not deny it.
That was the worst part.
He simply closed his eyes.
Adrian moved toward him.
I said, “No.”
Adrian stopped.
Varen opened his eyes again.
“I did help build it.”
My voice sounded strange to me. “How much?”
“All of it.”
The room became very quiet.
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
“You sat here crying and pretending you were a frightened doctor forced to cooperate.”
“I was frightened.”
“That doesn’t make the rest true.”
“No.”
Adrian’s restraint was visibly cracking.
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t throw you out that window.”
Dr. Patel said, “The fact that we are thirty-two floors up and I will personally call police.”
Varen almost laughed.
No one else did.
I stared at him.
“Why did you build it?”
“Because I believed in it.”
The honesty stunned me.
“I was thirty-one when Adrian’s father recruited me. Brilliant, ambitious, convinced genetics could solve diseases people had accepted as fate. Bellini was already years ahead of academic researchers. We told ourselves the family secrecy gave us freedom from bureaucracy.”
“You experimented on women without consent.”
“Yes.”
“You tracked me.”
“Yes.”
“You tested me.”
“Yes.”
My hands began to shake.
Adrian stepped closer to the bed.
I did not look at him.
“Did you arrange for me to meet Adrian?”
Varen hesitated.
“Yes.”
The word landed like a slap.
I stared at the blanket.
“Did you arrange our marriage?”
“No.”
“How can I believe you?”
“You shouldn’t.”
That answer was somehow worse.
“Bellini placed you at the gala. Adrian was supposed to meet you, nothing more. We wanted to observe attraction patterns.”
Adrian looked disgusted. “Attraction patterns?”
“She believed genetic compatibility sometimes correlated with behavioral attraction.”
“That is pseudoscientific nonsense,” Dr. Patel snapped.
“Yes,” Varen said. “I know that now.”
I looked at him.
“But we fell in love.”
Varen nodded.
“That surprised everyone.”
“Everyone?”
“Bellini. Rafael. Me.”
Adrian’s eyes went cold. “My father?”
“He died before the gala.”
“Good.”
I looked at Adrian.
He was furious, but beneath it was something raw.
Humiliation.
He had been manipulated too.
That did not absolve him of our marriage’s failures.
But it changed the shape of them.
Nora arrived at the hospital under guard an hour later.
She had a concussion, three fractured ribs, and one furious attitude.
When she saw me, tears filled her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
I stared at her from my bed.
“What was real?”
She swallowed.
“The bookstore.”
“You hate romance novels.”
“I learned to tolerate them.”
“You told me your mother died of breast cancer.”
“She did.”
“You said your ex-boyfriend stole your dog.”
“He did.”
“That ridiculous story was true?”
She almost smiled. “Unfortunately.”
I wanted to stay angry.
I was angry.
But relief that she was alive kept breaking through.
“Why did you help me?”
“Because I was assigned to observe you for a federal investigation.”
Adrian’s head snapped toward her.
“Federal?”
“Yes.”
“What agency?”
“I’m not telling you.”
Marco actually smiled.
Nora looked back at me.
“My job was to document Bellini’s network. Then you got pregnant.”
“And?”
“And the operation changed.”
“Because of the baby?”
“Because people started dying.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who?”
“Lab technicians. Couriers. One geneticist in Boston. Anyone who accessed certain files.”
“Rafael?” Adrian asked.
“We thought so.”
“Thought?”
Nora looked at Varen.
“Then we found evidence Rafael was trying to shut the program down.”
Everyone turned toward her.
Adrian frowned. “That makes no sense.”
“Maybe not. But three months ago, Rafael contacted my handler.”
“What did he say?”
“He said Bellini had gone rogue.”
Varen shook his head. “Convenient.”
Nora glared at him. “You don’t get to call anyone convenient.”
I asked, “If Rafael wanted to shut it down, why steal my blood?”
“We don’t know that he did.”
“His credential was used.”
“Could have been planted.”
Adrian crossed his arms. “Where is Rafael now?”
Nora looked at him.
“That is the problem.”
“What?”
“He disappeared yesterday.”
Adrian’s face changed.
“From Miami?”
“He never arrived in Miami.”
Marco checked his phone.
“Private jet landed empty.”
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
Marco said, “Someone wanted us to think he was there.”
Nora nodded.
“And his last known location was Chicago.”
The room went quiet.
I whispered, “Near me?”
“Possibly.”
My daughter kicked sharply.
I pressed a hand to my side.
Dr. Patel checked the tracing.
Then he frowned.
“What?” I asked.
“Her heart rate is dipping again.”
The room changed instantly.
Nurses entered.
Dr. Patel turned serious.
“Elena, I need to examine you.”
Adrian moved toward the door.
I grabbed his wrist.
“Stay.”
He froze.
Our eyes met.
“Stay,” I repeated.
“I’m here.”
The examination took minutes that felt like hours.
Dr. Patel stood.
“You’re two centimeters dilated.”
My blood went cold.
“I’m only thirty-four weeks.”
“I know.”
“Can you stop it?”
“Maybe.”
Adrian’s hand tightened around mine.
Dr. Patel continued. “But there’s another complication.”
I closed my eyes.
“Of course there is.”
He almost smiled.
Then became serious again.
“We need to prepare for the possibility of delivery within twenty-four hours.”
Adrian went pale.
I whispered, “Will she survive?”
“She has an excellent chance at this gestational age. But because of the anemia, she may need immediate transfusion.”
Varen suddenly stood.
Everyone looked at him.
“What?” I asked.
He stared at Dr. Patel.
“You cannot use standard donor blood.”
Dr. Patel frowned. “Why?”
“Because if Bellini’s sequencing is correct, the baby may react to common antigen profiles.”
“Then we crossmatch carefully.”
Varen shook his head.
“You need blood from a genetically compatible relative.”
Adrian immediately said, “Take mine.”
Varen looked at him.
“That may kill her.”
The room went silent.
“Then whose?” I asked.
Varen swallowed.
“Rafael’s.”
After Varen was taken under guard to another room, Adrian stayed by the window. His reflection in the glass looked split by the city lights.
“I spent years thinking power meant knowing what everyone else didn’t,” he said.
“And now?”
“Now I think secrets are just debts with interest.”
I studied him. “That sounds almost healthy.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
I smiled despite myself.
Then he turned serious. “If Lucia is born tonight, I need you to know something.”
“What?”
“I will not let my name decide her life.”
“That includes you.”
“I know.”
“You don’t get to replace your grandfather’s control with your version of love.”
May you like
His face tightened, but he nodded. “I know.”
The contractions continued quietly beneath our words, reminding me that promises were easy compared with what waited ahead. Still, I held on to that one.
