Chapter 6 — The Baby With No Birth Record
Chapter 6 — The Baby With No Birth Record
The phone hit the stone floor.
Gabriel's voice was gone.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Lorenzo stared at Isabella.
“There were three?”
Isabella closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
His father looked at her.
“You promised me you would tell him.”
“I was going to.”
“When?”
“When it was safe.”
His father gave a bitter laugh.
“Safe stopped existing eight months ago.”
Lorenzo stepped toward Isabella.
“How many children did you give birth to?”
“Three.”
“Where are they?”
Isabella looked at Giulia.
“One is here.”
Lorenzo looked toward the woman holding his daughter.
“And the second?”
“She died.”
His jaw tightened.
“You said the baby I buried wasn't Elena.”
“It wasn't.”
“Then who was in that coffin?”
“My sister.”
“Why?”
“Because someone needed a body.”
Lorenzo's expression hardened.
“And the third?”
Isabella's eyes filled with tears.
“I don't know.”
The words struck him harder than any confession.
“You don't know?”
“No.”
“You gave birth to three children.”
“Yes.”
“And you don't know where one of them is?”
“I haven't known for eight months.”
“Who took the baby?”
Isabella shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Lorenzo looked at his father.
“You know.”
The old man's face remained expressionless.
“No.”
“Then why were you hiding?”
“Because I was trying to find the child.”
Lorenzo laughed bitterly.
“You expect me to believe that?”
His father stepped closer.
“You should believe nothing tonight.”
“That's convenient.”
“No.”
He pointed toward the woman holding Giulia.
“Ask her.”
Everyone turned.
The woman lowered her eyes.
Lorenzo approached.
“Who are you?”
“Maria.”
“Maria what?”
“Maria Bellini.”
Lorenzo froze.
“Bellini?”
“Yes.”
“Are you related to Clara?”
Maria's eyes widened.
“You know Clara?”
“I met her.”
Maria looked toward Isabella.
“She told me you would.”
“Tell me about the third baby.”
Maria swallowed.
“I was there when they were born.”
“Where?”
“Saint Raphael's.”
“Who delivered them?”
“Dr. Elena Moretti.”
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed.
“The same doctor who signed the transfer records.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Maria looked at Isabella.
“Tell him.”
Isabella shook her head.
Maria continued.
“The first baby was born at 11:14 p.m.”
“Giulia.”
“Yes.”
“The second came at 11:26.”
“My sister.”
“Yes.”
“And the third?”
Maria's voice dropped.
“Eleven thirty-seven.”
Lorenzo stared.
“Three babies in twenty-three minutes.”
“Yes.”
“Why wasn't the third birth recorded?”
Maria looked at the floor.
“Because the doctor was ordered not to record it.”
“By whom?”
“Gabriel.”
Lorenzo's blood went cold.
Again.
Gabriel.
Always Gabriel.
But Isabella shook her head.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
“Gabriel didn't know about the third baby.”
Lorenzo turned.
“Then who did?”
Isabella whispered:
“My father.”
Lorenzo looked at his father.
“You knew.”
His father nodded.
“Yes.”
“And you hid it from me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your daughter was never the target.”
Lorenzo's face hardened.
“Then who was?”
“The third child.”
“Why?”
His father hesitated.
“Because she wasn't supposed to exist.”
Lorenzo stared.
“That's not an answer.”
“She was born from a secret that could destroy two families.”
“What secret?”
His father looked at Isabella.
“Tell him.”
Isabella couldn't.
Lorenzo stepped toward her.
“Tell me.”
She wiped her tears.
“The third baby wasn't mine.”
Silence.
Lorenzo didn't understand.
“What?”
“She was born from another woman.”
“Then why was she delivered with you?”
“Because her mother couldn't survive the birth.”
“Who was her mother?”
Isabella looked at him.
“Aurelia.”
Lorenzo's eyes widened.
“Aurelia was dead.”
“No.”
“She died twenty-five years ago.”
“I mean her daughter.”
Lorenzo stared.
“Aurelia had another daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
The room went silent.
Lorenzo felt as if the floor had disappeared.
“My mother?”
Isabella nodded.
“Your mother gave birth to the third child.”
“That would make the baby—”
“Your sister.”
Lorenzo couldn't speak.
His father looked away.
“I thought she died.”
Isabella whispered:
“She didn't.”
The old man sat down.
For the first time since Lorenzo had seen him alive, he looked old.
Really old.
Not like the powerful patriarch whose name had once terrified half of New York.
Just an exhausted man.
“My daughter was seventeen,” he said.
Lorenzo stared.
“Seventeen?”
“When she became pregnant.”
“With whom?”
Silence.
Lorenzo understood before the answer came.
“My uncle?”
His father nodded.
“No.”
Lorenzo's stomach turned.
“Then who?”
“Someone outside the family.”
“Who?”
His father closed his eyes.
“Your mother's childhood friend.”
Lorenzo stared.
“That doesn't explain why the baby was hidden.”
“It does if you know who the father was.”
“Who?”
His father looked at him.
“Vittorio.”
Lorenzo froze.
His own grandfather.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You're saying my mother had a child with her father?”
“No.”
His father shook his head.
“The child's father was your grandfather's illegitimate son.”
Lorenzo couldn't breathe.
“Your grandfather had another child,” Isabella said.
“A son nobody knew about.”
“Who?”
“Matteo.”
Lorenzo's eyes widened.
Matteo Bellini.
The man behind the House of Swallows.
The man everyone thought had died.
The man whose daughter Clara had warned him.
Suddenly everything connected.
Matteo was his grandfather's illegitimate son.
Which meant the third baby was both DeLuca and Bellini.
The bloodline of the empire and the bloodline of the Swallows.
A child belonging to both worlds.
A child powerful enough to change everything.
“Where is she?”
Nobody answered.
Lorenzo looked at Maria.
“You said you were there.”
“Yes.”
“You saw the baby.”
“Yes.”
“Where did she go?”
Maria's hands trembled.
“Someone took her.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I was unconscious.”
“What happened?”
“Someone drugged the staff.”
“Who?”
“Dr. Moretti.”
Lorenzo stared.
“The doctor?”
Maria nodded.
“She gave us something to drink.”
“And then?”
“Everything went dark.”
“When you woke?”
“The third baby was gone.”
“Giulia?”
“Still there.”
“The second?”
“Dead.”
Lorenzo's expression changed.
“What happened to my sister?”
“She was already dying.”
“Why?”
“She had a heart defect.”
Lorenzo closed his eyes.
His sister.
A child he never knew existed.
A girl who had been used as a substitute for Isabella.
A girl who had died so Isabella could disappear.
He felt sick.
“Who put her in the coffin?”
“I did.”
Lorenzo looked at Maria.
“Why?”
“Because Isabella begged me.”
Isabella stepped forward.
“I didn't know she would die.”
“You knew she was sick.”
“Yes.”
“And you still used her.”
“I thought I could save her.”
“You couldn't.”
“No.”
Isabella's voice broke.
“But I couldn't let them take Giulia.”
Lorenzo stared at her.
“You let me bury your sister.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me grieve.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me destroy myself looking for you.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because if I told you, they would know you had survived.”
“Who?”
“The people who wanted the third baby.”
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed.
“Why do they want her?”
Isabella looked at him.
“Because she is the only person alive who can legally inherit the Swallow Archive.”
Lorenzo stared.
“She isn't even registered.”
“Exactly.”
“No birth record.”
“No legal identity.”
“No name.”
“No family.”
Isabella shook her head.
“That's why she is dangerous.”
A scream came from upstairs.
Everyone froze.
Sophia.
Lorenzo ran.
He reached the corridor.
Sophia was standing beside the window.
Emma was gone.
“Where is she?”
Sophia's face was white.
“She was right here.”
Lorenzo grabbed her shoulders.
“What happened?”
“I looked away for one second.”
“Where's Rico?”
“Outside.”
Lorenzo ran toward the stairs.
A door at the end of the hall slammed.
He pulled his gun.
“Who's there?”
No answer.
He kicked it open.
Empty.
A small window stood open.
Rain blew through the curtains.
On the floor was Emma's stuffed rabbit.
Lorenzo picked it up.
Something was pinned beneath it.
A note.
Three words.
SHE KNOWS WHERE.
Lorenzo's blood went cold.
Behind him, Isabella appeared.
“What happened?”
“Emma was taken.”
Isabella stopped breathing.
“No.”
Lorenzo turned.
“You know where they took her.”
“No.”
“Isabella.”
“I don't.”
He held up the note.
“She knows where.”
Isabella stared.
Then whispered:
“The archive.”
“What archive?”
“The original Swallow Archive.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear.”
A gunshot exploded downstairs.
Everyone ducked.
Another.
Then Rico shouted:
“Boss!”
Lorenzo ran toward the sound.
Two men were fighting in the foyer.
One wore black.
The other—
Lorenzo recognized immediately.
Gabriel.
His brother had a gun pressed against Rico's chest.
“Drop it!”
Gabriel looked at Lorenzo.
“Finally.”
Lorenzo aimed.
“Where is Emma?”
Gabriel smiled.
“That's why I'm here.”
“Where is she?”
“I can take you to her.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn't.”
Gabriel slowly lowered his gun.
“But you should listen.”
Lorenzo stepped forward.
“Talk.”
Gabriel looked at Isabella.
“She knows where the third baby is.”
Isabella went pale.
Gabriel continued.
“She has known for eight months.”
Lorenzo turned toward Isabella.
“Is that true?”
Isabella didn't answer.
Gabriel smiled.
“She lied to you.”
Lorenzo's voice dropped.
“Isabella.”
She finally spoke.
“Yes.”
The room fell silent.
“I know where the baby is.”
Lorenzo stared.
“Where?”
She looked at him.
“In this house.”
His blood ran cold.
“What?”
“The third baby has been here for three years.”
Lorenzo looked around.
The mansion.
The staff.
The rooms.
The nursery.
Then he remembered Emma.
Three years old.
The child who knew Isabella.
The child who had called him Daddy.
The child who knew things no child should know.
His heart stopped.
“Emma.”
Isabella closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Lorenzo whispered:
“Emma is the third baby.”
“No.”
Isabella shook her head.
“Emma is three.”
“She was born three years ago.”
“Yes.”
“And you said the third baby was born the night Giulia was born.”
“Yes.”
Lorenzo stared.
“Then how?”
Isabella's face crumpled.
“Because the third baby survived.”
Lorenzo felt the world tilt.
“That's impossible.”
“No.”
Isabella looked toward the empty staircase.
“Emma isn't the baby.”
Lorenzo frowned.
“Then who is?”
Isabella whispered:
“Emma was protecting her.”
Silence.
“What does that mean?”
Isabella looked at Maria.
Maria began crying.
Then she said the words that shattered Lorenzo's understanding of the entire story.
“Emma isn't Sophia's daughter.”
Lorenzo stared.
Sophia was standing behind them.
She had gone completely white.
Lorenzo turned.
“Sophia?”
Sophia's lips trembled.
“I wanted to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
She closed her eyes.
“Emma isn't my daughter.”
Lorenzo's stomach dropped.
“Then whose daughter is she?”
Sophia looked at Isabella.
Isabella whispered:
“Yours.”
Lorenzo stopped breathing.
His eyes moved from Isabella to Sophia.
Then toward the empty hallway.
His voice was barely audible.
“Emma is my daughter?”
Isabella nodded.
“She is the third child.”
Lorenzo's mind raced.
But one question remained.
He pointed toward the nursery.
“Then who is Giulia?”
Isabella's eyes filled with tears.
“That's the part I was most afraid to tell you.”
“Tell me.”
“Giulia isn't your biological daughter.”
Lorenzo froze.
The woman holding the baby slowly stepped forward.
She looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“The baby you think is Giulia…”
She looked down at the child.
“…is my daughter.”
Lorenzo stared.
“What?”
Maria whispered:
“She was born to Clara.”
Silence.
Clara.
The woman who had helped him.
The woman whose father had been connected to the Swallows.
The woman who had saved Isabella.
Lorenzo couldn't speak.
He looked at the baby.
Then at Isabella.
Then toward the empty staircase where Emma had disappeared.
Three babies.
Three mothers.
Three identities.
And one missing child.
Suddenly his phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A message appeared.
If you want Emma alive, come to Saint Raphael's alone.
A second message followed.
Bring the swallow necklace.
Then a third.
And don't bring Isabella.
Lorenzo looked up.
Isabella already knew.
Her face had turned white.
“Lorenzo…”
He held up the phone.
“You're staying here.”
“No.”
“You lied to me.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You lied about my daughter.”
“I was trying to protect her.”
“You let me bury a woman who wasn't Isabella.”
“Yes.”
“You let me raise another man's child as my own.”
“I had no choice.”
Lorenzo's voice broke.
“And Emma?”
Isabella began to cry.
“She is the only daughter you have left.”
Lorenzo stared at her.
Then at the message.
Then at the swallow necklace.
For eight months, he had believed his family had been stolen from him.
Now he understood something far worse.
His family had never been what he thought.
And somewhere in the darkness, someone was holding his little girl.
Waiting for him to come alone.
Lorenzo put the necklace into his pocket.
Then he walked toward the door.
Behind him, Isabella whispered:
“Lorenzo.”
He stopped.
“Don't trust the person who sent the message.”
He turned.
“Why?”
Her face was full of terror.
“Because whoever has Emma…”
She swallowed.
“…is the only person who knows what happened to the baby with no birth record.”
Lorenzo opened the door.
Rain swept across the marble steps.
He stepped into the darkness alone.
And behind him, hidden inside the old nursery, a tiny baby monitor suddenly clicked on.
A woman's voice whispered through the static.
“Isabella?”
Isabella turned.
The voice continued.
“You should have killed Lorenzo when you had the chance.”
Isabella's face went white.
She recognized the voice.
It belonged to her father.
The man everyone believed had been dead for twenty-five years.
And then the baby monitor transmitted one final sound.
A child crying.
Not Emma.
May you like
A newborn.
Alive.
