Chapter 2 - THE LITTLE GIRL BEHIND THE LOCKED DOOR
The next morning, Lorenzo Moretti woke before sunrise, but for the first time in years, the first thought in his mind was not money, territory, or the men waiting for his instructions.
It was Elena Carter.
More specifically, it was the little girl whose name had never appeared on Elena's employee file.
Sophie Carter.
At 6:15 a.m., Lorenzo walked into the kitchen wearing a charcoal shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, expecting to find Chef Victoria preparing breakfast for the household staff.
Instead, he found Elena standing alone beside the enormous marble island.
She was holding a tray of folded napkins.
Her face was pale.
Lorenzo stopped at the doorway.
Elena immediately lowered her eyes.
“Good morning, Mr. Moretti.”
“Good morning.”
She waited.
Lorenzo studied her for several seconds.
“Do you have a daughter?”
The tray nearly slipped from Elena's hands.
For one brief second, something flashed across her face.
Fear.
Real fear.
Then she recovered.
“I don't know what you mean.”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Her fingers tightened around the tray.
“I don't discuss my personal life at work.”
“That wasn't my question.”
Elena swallowed.
“No, sir.”
Lorenzo's expression remained unreadable.
“No?”
“No, I don't have a daughter.”
He watched her carefully.
A lie.
Not because of the database.
Because of her eyes.
People could control their mouths.
Their eyes were harder.
Lorenzo stepped closer.
“Then who is Sophie Carter?”
Elena went completely still.
The kitchen suddenly felt enormous.
Behind them, dishes clinked softly as two other employees worked at the far end of the room.
Elena lowered her voice.
“Where did you hear that name?”
“I asked the question.”
Her eyes lifted.
For the first time, she looked directly at him.
“She is my daughter.”
Lorenzo said nothing.
Elena closed her eyes briefly.
“I didn't list her because I needed the job.”
“That doesn't explain why you lied.”
“You wouldn't have hired me if you knew.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm not reliable.”
Lorenzo's jaw tightened.
“Your license was revoked.”
Her face changed.
“I made mistakes.”
“Eight complaints.”
“I know.”
“You missed shifts.”
“I know.”
“You were working in a hospital while apparently raising a child alone.”
“I said I know.”
Her voice cracked.
Lorenzo noticed.
He had expected defensiveness.
He had not expected shame.
“Where is she now?”
Elena looked toward the kitchen entrance.
“At home.”
“Alone?”
“No.”
“Who is with her?”
Elena hesitated.
“My neighbor.”
“Name?”
“Mrs. Alvarez.”
“Age?”
“Sixty-eight.”
“Reliable?”
“Yes.”
Lorenzo stared at her.
“And you trust a sixty-eight-year-old woman to watch a four-year-old child all day?”
“She doesn't watch her all day.”
“Then who does?”
Elena said nothing.
Lorenzo understood.
“Nobody.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I can't afford daycare.”
The words came out so quietly that he almost didn't hear them.
“I can't afford anything.”
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Lorenzo asked the question that mattered.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I needed the job.”
“That isn't enough.”
“It is when you have a child who needs medicine.”
Lorenzo's expression changed.
“What medicine?”
Elena immediately regretted answering.
“Nothing.”
“What medicine?”
“She has asthma.”
Lorenzo stared at her.
“How bad?”
“Sometimes she can't breathe.”
“Where is her inhaler?”
“She has one.”
“Sometimes?”
“She has one.”
“That's not what I asked.”
Elena looked down.
“I can't always afford the prescription.”
Silence.
Lorenzo turned away.
His first instinct was anger.
Not at Elena.
At the situation.
At himself.
His employees ate meals that cost more than Elena probably spent on groceries in a week.
He had never noticed.
That irritated him more than he wanted to admit.
“Go home.”
Her head snapped up.
“What?”
“Take the day off.”
“I can't.”
“That's not a request.”
“I need the money.”
“You'll be paid.”
She stared at him.
“Why?”
Lorenzo didn't answer.
Instead, he walked out.
At 7:03, Gabe found him in the underground garage.
“Boss?”
“Find out where Elena lives.”
Gabe nodded.
“And?”
“Everything.”
Gabe hesitated.
“Everything?”
“Medical records. Employment history. Financial problems. Anyone connected to her. Father of the child. Former coworkers.”
“Understood.”
Lorenzo turned toward him.
“And do it quietly.”
“Of course.”
“She's not to know.”
Gabe nodded.
But before he could leave, Lorenzo added one more instruction.
“Find out what medicine Sophie needs.”
That afternoon, Elena returned home to find something waiting outside her apartment.
A pharmacy bag.
She stared at it.
Her name was written on the receipt.
Inside were two inhalers, a nebulizer, children's medication, and several boxes of medicine she had been rationing for months.
Her hands began to shake.
There was no note.
No explanation.
She looked down the hallway.
Nobody.
Inside the apartment, Sophie was sitting on the floor drawing with broken crayons.
“Mama!”
Elena dropped to her knees and hugged her.
Sophie giggled.
Then looked at the bag.
“What is that?”
“Medicine.”
“For me?”
“Yes.”
“Did we win money?”
Elena laughed despite herself.
“No, sweetheart.”
“Then who gave it?”
Elena didn't know what to say.
Three hours later, Lorenzo received a photograph from Gabe.
Sophie.
Four years old.
Curly brown hair.
Big blue-gray eyes.
Small pink sweater.
Holding a stuffed rabbit with one ear missing.
Lorenzo stared at the photograph longer than necessary.
Then Gabe sent another message.
The father was listed as Marcus Carter.
Deceased.
Lorenzo frowned.
He read the report.
Marcus Carter had died eighteen months earlier.
Official cause of death: accidental overdose.
But there was something else.
Marcus had worked for a transportation company connected to one of Lorenzo's shell businesses.
That wasn't coincidence.
Lorenzo leaned back.
He read the file again.
Marcus Carter had been employed by Northline Logistics.
Northline Logistics had changed ownership two months before Marcus died.
The previous owner had been a man named Vincent Russo.
Lorenzo's expression hardened.
Vincent Russo was dead too.
But not from an overdose.
He had been shot.
Three years earlier.
The same year Elena's nursing license had been revoked.
Lorenzo closed the file.
“Gabe.”
“Yes, boss?”
“Come upstairs.”
Twenty minutes later, Gabe stood across from Lorenzo's desk.
“Tell me about Marcus Carter.”
Gabe looked surprised.
“Marcus?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Just tell me.”
Gabe opened his tablet.
“Truck driver. Northline Logistics. Quiet guy. No criminal record.”
“Connection to Russo?”
“Nothing obvious.”
“Dig deeper.”
Gabe nodded.
Then Lorenzo asked:
“What happened at Mercy Hospital three years ago?”
Gabe looked up.
“Elena's case?”
“Yes.”
“She lost her license after missing several shifts and allegedly mishandling medication records.”
“Allegedly?”
“That's what the report says.”
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed.
“Who filed the complaints?”
Gabe checked.
“Hospital administrator.”
“Name?”
“Dr. Adrian Vale.”
Lorenzo went silent.
Adrian Vale.
He knew that name.
Everybody in Chicago's criminal underground knew that name.
Not because Vale was a gangster.
Because he was a man who cleaned problems for people who didn't want their names attached to them.
Doctors.
Politicians.
Businessmen.
Men like Vincent Russo.
Lorenzo stood.
“Find Adrian Vale.”
Gabe's expression became serious.
“Boss, if he's involved—”
“I know.”
“And Elena?”
Lorenzo looked toward the window.
“Don't touch her.”
“Understood.”
“And Sophie?”
Lorenzo's voice lowered.
“Keep her safe.”
Gabe nodded.
That night, Lorenzo returned to the security room.
He watched the footage again.
Elena folding sheets.
Elena working late.
Elena carrying bread.
Elena looking toward the staff dining room but never sitting down.
Then he noticed something he'd missed.
At 8:47 p.m., Elena stopped folding.
She looked toward the hallway.
Someone was standing outside.
A man.
Only his silhouette appeared.
Elena saw him.
Her face changed.
Then she turned off the laundry room light.
The man walked away.
Lorenzo rewound the footage.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Then he froze the image.
The man's left hand was visible.
A silver ring.
A black stone.
Lorenzo knew that ring.
He had seen it twelve years earlier.
On Vincent Russo's right-hand man.
A man everyone believed had disappeared after Russo's death.
Lorenzo's eyes hardened.
Someone had followed Elena into his house.
May you like
And now Lorenzo had a much bigger problem than a dishonest employee.
He had an enemy inside his walls.
