Chapter 3 - The Ghost of St. Jude’s
The penthouse floor of Moretti Tower was designed to be an impenetrable fortress. High above the rain-drenched streets of Manhattan, the silence was absolute.
I walked into my private quarters to find Maya wrapped in a oversized cashmere throw blanket, sitting on the leather sofa while eating a bowl of warm soup. Dr. Aris—our family’s trusted private physician—was just packing his medical bag.
“How is she?” I asked, stepping into the room.
Dr. Aris gestured for me to join him near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park.
“She’s undernourished and exhausted, Vincent, but otherwise physically unharmed,” Dr. Aris said in a low tone. “However... I took a quick cheek swab for a rapid DNA panel as you requested. Using our private lab’s expedited sequence, we’ll have official confirmation in two hours. But off the record? She has your genetic markers around the eyelids and jawline. There is zero doubt in my mind.”
My chest constricted. I looked back at Maya, who was watching a cartoon on the hidden television panel with quiet, intense fascination. A daughter. I had a six-year-old daughter.
“Did she tell you where her mother is?” I asked.
“St. Jude’s Charity Hospital in Queens,” Dr. Aris replied. “According to the admission records Maya brought in her coat pocket, Emily Vane was brought into the emergency room last night under a pseudonym—Sarah Cole. She was involved in a hit-and-run collision in Brooklyn. She’s currently in a medically induced coma in the intensive care unit.”
A hit-and-run. The timing was too precise, too dirty, to be a mere coincidence.
Before I could answer, the heavy double doors of my office swung open.
My mother, Victoria Moretti, walked into the room. At sixty-five, she remained an imposing figure—adorned in tailored charcoal wool, her white hair styled immaculately, her gaze possessing the sharp edge that had kept my father’s associates in line after his death. Behind her walked Sophia and two senior partners from Harrison & Cole.
Victoria stopped dead in her tracks when her eyes landed on Maya.
The room’s temperature seemed to plunge into freezing territory. Victoria’s posture remained rigid, but I caught the momentary tremor in her lower lip—a subtle detail that only someone who had studied her for thirty years would notice.
“Vincent,” Victoria said, her voice smooth as glass and cold as steel. “What is the meaning of this circus? The board is waiting. The attorneys have the final documents for the acquisition of Bennett Logistics. Why are you hiding on the top floor with a stray child?”
I walked slowly toward my mother, stopping three feet away. I held up my right hand, opening my palm to reveal the gold ring.
Victoria’s eyes shifted down to the ring. She didn't flinch.
“Where did you get that old trinket?” Victoria asked dismissively. “You lost that years ago when that fortune-hunting girl ran off with her boyfriend.”
“This child brought it to me ten minutes ago, Mother,” I said quietly. “Her name is Maya. She is six years old.”
Victoria sneered slightly, glancing past me at Maya. “And you believe every street urchin who walks in off the avenue with a stolen ring? Vincent, you are the chief executive of a multi-billion-dollar enterprise. People fabricate claims against our family every single week.”
“She didn't just bring the ring,” I said, stepping closer to my mother, lowering my voice so only she and Sophia could hear. “She brought Emily’s eyes. And she brought a story about her mother being struck by a car in Queens eight hours ago.”
Sophia cleared her throat nervously. “Vincent, please. This is ridiculous. Let security take the girl to Child Protective Services so we can finish signing the contracts. You’re letting emotional sentimentality ruin a deal we’ve spent three years constructing!”
I turned my head slowly to look at Sophia.
“Why are you so eager to send her away, Sophia?” I asked softly. “You haven't offered a single word of sympathy for a child whose mother is dying in a hospital. All you’ve talked about is the deal.”
“Because the deal secures our family’s future!” Sophia snapped, her composure slipping further. “The Bennett shipping lines give Moretti Enterprises complete control over the eastern seaboard! You’re going to throw that away for a ghost?”
“Margaret,” I called out, without breaking eye contact with Sophia.
Margaret stepped out from the adjacent security monitoring alcove. “Yes, Mr. Moretti?”
“Prepare my armored SUV. Have Frank and four armed detail men meet us in the basement garage. We are going to St. Jude’s Hospital in Queens.”
Victoria’s eyes flashed with anger. “Vincent! You will not step out of this building! If you leave this board meeting today, the merger is off! Richard Bennett will pull his financing!”
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I looked my mother dead in the eye—the woman who had spent my entire life manipulating people like pieces on a chessboard.
“Then let him pull it,” I said flatly. “Because if I find out that anyone in this room had anything to do with what happened to Emily nine years ago... or what happened to her last night... a cancelled merger will be the least of your problems.”
