Chapter 4 — Luka Moretti Was Never a Stranger
Chapter 4 — Luka Moretti Was Never a Stranger
The voice came from the darkness.
“It's time to remember why I chose you.”
My entire body went cold.
I knew that voice.
I had spent seven years trying to forget it.
My father's voice.
Not the voice I remembered from old home videos.
Not the warm voice that used to read stories to me when I was little.
This voice was different.
Lower.
Calmer.
The voice of a man giving an order.
I looked at Luka.
He had gone completely still.
“Luka?”
He didn't answer.
Daniel was staring at the ceiling.
Dr. Rusk had covered her mouth with one hand.
Then the lights came back on.
A single fluorescent tube flickered above us.
There was no one there.
Only the archive.
The cabinets.
The empty crib.
And the black metal case sitting open on the table.
I turned toward Luka.
“You heard him.”
“Yes.”
“That was my father.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Luka's jaw tightened.
“He recorded it.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
“There are speakers in the walls.”
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“You knew this room existed.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my father left recordings.”
“Yes.”
My anger rose so quickly that it almost overwhelmed my fear.
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because you weren't ready.”
“I decide when I'm ready.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
I stepped toward him.
“You keep telling me things only after I discover them.”
“Hannah—”
“You knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my father.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about M-17.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my daughter was connected to it.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew that photograph existed.”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“You knew me before today.”
His eyes met mine.
“Yes.”
The room became silent.
“How long?”
Luka didn't answer.
“How long have you known me?”
He looked away.
“Since you were sixteen.”
My breath caught.
The photograph.
Me beside my mother.
The hospital corridor.
The date.
Everything suddenly made sense.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“The night my mother disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked at the floor.
“Because your father sent me.”
“How old were you?”
“Twenty-two.”
I stared.
“You were only twenty-two?”
“Yes.”
“And you were already working for my father?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“My father sent me to watch him.”
I frowned.
“You were spying on my father?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because my family didn't trust him.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
Luka's expression didn't change.
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain it.”
He took a breath.
“My father believed your father was stealing from M-17.”
“Was he?”
“No.”
“Then what was he doing?”
“Trying to destroy it.”
I stared at him.
“Why didn't your family help him?”
“Because they thought he was going to expose us.”
“Were you involved?”
“No.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I don't expect anything from you.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I failed once.”
His voice changed.
“I won't fail again.”
I stared at him.
“Failed what?”
“To protect you.”
The archive suddenly seemed smaller.
I looked at the photograph again.
Sixteen-year-old me.
My mother.
The hospital.
I tried to remember.
Nothing came.
Only fragments.
Rain.
A hallway.
My mother's hand around mine.
A man's voice telling me not to look back.
Then darkness.
I closed my eyes.
Something flashed through my mind.
A red door.
A silver key.
A little boy.
And someone whispering:
“Don't let them take her.”
I opened my eyes.
Luka was watching me.
“What?”
“You remembered something.”
“How did you know?”
“Your face.”
I shook my head.
“I saw a door.”
“What color?”
“Red.”
His expression changed.
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Think.”
“I can't.”
“Try.”
I closed my eyes again.
The image returned.
A red door.
A number.
17.
My heart began pounding.
“Room seventeen.”
Luka turned toward the far wall.
“There isn't a room seventeen.”
“Maybe there was.”
He started examining the cabinets.
Daniel stepped closer.
“What are you looking for?”
“Silence.”
Daniel frowned.
“What?”
“The room.”
Luka ran his fingers across the wall.
Then stopped.
He pressed a section of metal paneling.
Nothing happened.
He pressed again.
A click.
The panel shifted.
Behind it was a narrow opening.
A hidden corridor.
Dr. Rusk stepped backward.
“No.”
Luka looked at her.
“You knew.”
She shook her head.
“I knew about the archive.”
“You knew about the room.”
“I never went inside.”
“Why?”
“Because your father sealed it.”
I stared at the opening.
My heart was pounding.
“What's inside?”
Dr. Rusk whispered:
“Everything.”
Luka entered first.
I followed.
Daniel came behind me.
Dr. Rusk remained near the archive entrance.
The corridor smelled of dust and metal.
There were no lights.
Luka used his phone.
The beam illuminated old photographs pinned to the walls.
Children.
Dozens of them.
Some were babies.
Some were toddlers.
Some were teenagers.
Every photograph had a number.
M-01.
M-02.
M-03.
I stopped.
“M-17.”
There it was.
A photograph of me.
Sixteen years old.
I stared.
Underneath it:
M-17 — PRIMARY KEY
My breathing stopped.
“That's me.”
Luka nodded.
“I know.”
“Why?”
He didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
The photograph showed me asleep.
In a hospital bed.
There was an IV in my arm.
My mother stood beside me.
And a man I didn't recognize stood behind her.
I pointed.
“Who is that?”
Luka looked at the photograph.
His face hardened.
“My uncle.”
“Your uncle?”
“Marco Moretti.”
“What was he doing here?”
“He ran the medical foundation.”
I stared at him.
“The foundation that funded M-17.”
“Yes.”
I turned toward Luka.
“Your family was deeply involved.”
“Yes.”
“Then why should I trust you?”
He looked at me.
“You shouldn't.”
That answer stunned me.
“What?”
“You shouldn't trust me because I'm a Moretti.”
“Then why?”
“Because I've spent eighteen years trying to destroy what my family built.”
I stared.
“Eighteen?”
“Yes.”
“You started when you were twenty-two?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked at the photograph of me.
“Because I saw what they did to you.”
My throat tightened.
“What did they do?”
“Nothing you remember.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“They altered your memories.”
I felt dizzy.
“Why?”
“To protect the program.”
“From me?”
“From what you knew.”
I stared at my younger face.
“What did I know?”
Luka looked at me.
“You saw the transfer.”
“What transfer?”
“The first child.”
“What happened?”
He was silent.
“Tell me.”
He looked down the corridor.
“Your father discovered that M-17 wasn't about medical research.”
“I know.”
“No.”
His voice became quieter.
“You still don't understand.”
He pointed at the photographs.
“These children weren't selected because of their genes.”
“Then why?”
“Because of their parents.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“M-17 wasn't creating heirs.”
He paused.
“It was creating leverage.”
I stared at him.
“Leverage over whom?”
“Politicians.”
“That's why the hospital was involved?”
“Yes.”
“Businesses?”
“Yes.”
“Families?”
“Yes.”
“Why children?”
“Because powerful people are easier to control when their children are involved.”
I felt sick.
“So the program was blackmail?”
“Partly.”
“What was the rest?”
“Replacement.”
I stared.
“Replacement?”
Luka nodded.
“Some families didn't want their own heirs.”
“They replaced them?”
“Sometimes.”
“With other children?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
“Power.”
“Legacy.”
The words made my stomach twist.
“People were buying children.”
“Some were.”
“And M-17 arranged it.”
“Yes.”
I looked at my daughter.
“Is that what they want to do to her?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“They want to use her DNA to identify everyone connected to the original program.”
I stared.
“Why would her DNA do that?”
“Because your father designed her genetic profile as a living index.”
I didn't understand.
Luka continued.
“Every subject in M-17 was connected to a genetic record.”
“And my daughter?”
“She carries the key that can decode them.”
I looked at my baby.
“She isn't a weapon.”
“No.”
“She isn't property.”
“No.”
“She is a child.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you sign the father line?”
Luka looked at me.
“Because I knew the hospital would list her as an M-17 asset.”
My heart stopped.
“You changed her legal record.”
“I bought you time.”
“You could have told me.”
“You wouldn't have believed me.”
“You should have tried.”
“I was afraid.”
That stopped me.
Luka Moretti.
The man who walked into a hospital carrying a weapon.
The man who didn't flinch when Daniel confronted him.
The man who had stared down armed guards.
Afraid.
“Of what?”
“Of losing you.”
I stared.
“You barely know me.”
His expression softened.
“I know you better than you think.”
“How?”
“Because I watched you grow up.”
The words hit harder than anything else.
“You watched me?”
“Yes.”
“From where?”
“Your father's house.”
“When?”
“After your mother disappeared.”
I felt a chill.
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
“How close?”
“Close enough to know when you cried.”
I stared at him.
“That's horrifying.”
“I know.”
“Why would you watch me?”
“Because your father asked me to.”
“And you agreed?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I owed him.”
“What did you owe him?”
Luka looked away.
“My life.”
Daniel suddenly spoke.
“You're not telling her everything.”
Luka turned.
“Don't.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“I know what happened.”
“You know nothing.”
“I was there.”
Luka's eyes narrowed.
“Where?”
“The night Hannah's mother disappeared.”
My heart stopped.
I looked at Daniel.
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“My father sent me.”
I felt sick.
“You were part of M-17 too.”
“Not willingly.”
“Everyone says that.”
Daniel shook his head.
“I was nineteen.”
“So?”
“I didn't understand what I was seeing.”
“What did you see?”
He looked at Luka.
“You.”
Luka's expression changed.
“You were carrying Hannah.”
I froze.
“What?”
Daniel looked at me.
“You were unconscious.”
My heart stopped.
“Luka was carrying you through the east corridor.”
I stared at Luka.
He didn't deny it.
“You carried me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You were injured.”
“How?”
Daniel answered.
“Your mother shot someone.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“She was trying to get you out.”
“From whom?”
“Marco Moretti.”
I turned toward Luka.
“Your uncle?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“My mother fought him.”
“Did she escape?”
“No.”
My throat tightened.
“What happened to her?”
Luka looked at the floor.
“She was captured.”
“By your uncle?”
“Yes.”
“Did he kill her?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“We never found her body.”
I felt tears burn my eyes.
“So my mother might be alive?”
“She might have been.”
“Where is she now?”
Luka's silence told me enough.
“You lost her.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Seven years ago.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your father believed telling you would put you in danger.”
I laughed bitterly.
“I was already in danger.”
“I know.”
“You watched me for seven years.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me my mother might be alive.”
“No.”
“Do you know how cruel that is?”
“Yes.”
“Then why?”
“Because every time we came close to finding her…”
He stopped.
“What?”
“She disappeared.”
“Who moved her?”
“We never knew.”
I looked at Daniel.
He looked away.
I stepped toward him.
“You know.”
“No.”
“You know something.”
He swallowed.
“I know someone paid for her disappearance.”
“Who?”
He didn't answer.
“Daniel.”
He finally whispered:
“My father.”
The corridor seemed to tilt.
“Your father?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he was afraid your mother would expose him.”
“Expose what?”
Daniel looked at Luka.
“The original M-17 transfer.”
Luka's face went cold.
“What transfer?”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“You still don't know?”
“Know what?”
“The first child wasn't Hannah.”
I stared.
“What?”
Daniel looked at me.
“It was you.”
My breath stopped.
I couldn't move.
“What?”
“You were the first successful M-17 subject.”
Luka immediately stepped toward him.
“Stop.”
Daniel backed away.
“She deserves to know.”
“She deserves the truth.”
“She deserves all of it.”
I looked at Luka.
“Is that true?”
He didn't answer.
“Luka.”
“Yes.”
The word shattered me.
I stumbled backward.
“I was a child.”
“Yes.”
“What did they do to me?”
“Nothing permanent.”
“You don't know that.”
“I know what they recorded.”
“What did they record?”
“Your blood.”
“That's all?”
“Your blood.”
“Why?”
“Because you had a rare genetic marker.”
“What marker?”
“The Moretti marker.”
I shook my head.
“But I'm not a Moretti.”
“You are.”
“Then why did my father hide it?”
“Because the marker came from my grandfather.”
I stared.
“Your grandfather?”
“Yes.”
“So my biological father…”
“Was my grandfather's son.”
I looked at him.
“Your father.”
“Yes.”
My stomach twisted.
“That means James Reed…”
“Was a Moretti.”
“And you…”
“Are your brother.”
I closed my eyes.
I couldn't process it.
Luka had been beside me all day.
Protecting me.
Protecting my daughter.
And he was my brother.
Not a stranger.
Not a bodyguard.
Not a mysterious man who happened to know my father.
My brother.
I whispered:
“Why didn't you tell me when you first saw me?”
“Because I didn't know whether you were being watched.”
“By whom?”
“Everyone.”
A noise came from behind us.
Metal scraping.
Luka turned immediately.
“Back.”
A figure stepped into the corridor.
An older man.
Gray hair.
Dark suit.
A scar crossed one side of his face.
Luka's expression changed.
“Marco.”
The man smiled.
“Hello, nephew.”
I froze.
Luka moved in front of me.
Marco looked past him.
Toward me.
“So.”
He smiled.
“James's little girl.”
Luka's voice was low.
“Stay away from her.”
Marco laughed.
“After all these years, you're still protecting her.”
I looked at Luka.
“You know him.”
“Yes.”
Marco smiled.
“He's been protecting you since the night your mother disappeared.”
I stared.
“Why?”
“Because your father asked him to.”
Marco took another step.
“And because Luka believes he can undo what our family did.”
Luka's hand moved beneath his jacket.
Marco noticed.
“Don't.”
“You won't touch her.”
“I don't need to.”
Marco looked at my daughter.
“She already belongs to the program.”
I felt anger rise.
“She belongs to me.”
Marco smiled.
“That's what your father wanted you to believe.”
“What does that mean?”
Marco reached into his coat.
He pulled out a folder.
The cover was marked:
M-17 / PRIMARY SUBJECT
He opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
My daughter.
Taken only hours earlier.
In my hospital room.
I felt my blood run cold.
“You were watching us.”
Marco smiled.
“We've been watching you for years.”
Luka stepped forward.
Marco raised a gun.
“Stay where you are.”
Daniel froze.
Dr. Rusk backed against the wall.
Marco looked at me.
“Give me the baby.”
“No.”
“You don't understand.”
“I understand enough.”
He smiled.
“Then understand this.”
He pulled another photograph from the folder.
It showed my mother.
Alive.
Older.
Standing beside a window.
I stopped breathing.
“Where is she?”
Marco smiled.
“You'll find out.”
“When?”
“When you give me the child.”
“No.”
His expression hardened.
“You have until midnight.”
“For what?”
“To decide whether you want your mother…”
He raised the photograph.
“…or your daughter.”
Silence.
I looked at Luka.
His face had become completely emotionless.
But his eyes told me everything.
He knew Marco was capable of carrying out the threat.
Marco turned toward the corridor.
Before leaving, he looked at Luka.
“You should have told her the other secret.”
Luka's face changed.
“What secret?”
Marco smiled.
“The reason Daniel walked away.”
Then he disappeared into the darkness.
I turned toward Luka.
“What other secret?”
He didn't answer.
“Luka.”
Silence.
“Why did Daniel leave me?”
Luka looked at Daniel.
Daniel lowered his eyes.
I understood immediately.
“You know.”
Luka nodded.
“What is it?”
He took a breath.
Then said the words that made my heart stop.
“Daniel didn't leave because of another woman.”
I stared.
“He left because he was ordered to.”
“By whom?”
Luka looked at me.
“Your mother.”
I couldn't breathe.
“My mother is alive?”
“Yes.”
“And she ordered my husband to leave me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Luka looked at my daughter.
“Because she knew what would happen if you gave birth.”
I felt my knees weaken.
“What?”
“She knew your daughter would activate M-17.”
The room fell silent.
And for the first time, I understood that the man I had spent the entire day thinking of as a stranger had been part of my life long before I ever knew his name.
Luka Moretti wasn't a stranger.
He was my brother.
My father's secret.
My mother's protector.
And perhaps the only person standing between my daughter and the people who had been waiting for her birth.
But there was one question I couldn't stop asking.
If my mother was alive—
why had she wanted my husband to abandon me?
And what had she known about my daughter that even Luka had been afraid to tell me?
I looked at the clock.
11:17 p.m.
Forty-three minutes remained.
And somewhere in the city, my mother was waiting.
Not to save me.
But to make a choice.
May you like
Between her daughter—
and her granddaughter.
