Chapter 2 - THE MAN CLAIRE NEVER BURIED
Claire stared at Luca.
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
The ballroom had begun to recover around them, but the atmosphere remained frozen.
Guests whispered behind raised hands.
Security surrounded the four Japanese men near the service corridor.
The orchestra had stopped playing.
And in the middle of all that chaos, Luca Moretti stood perfectly still, waiting for Claire to answer one question.
“Who is Ivy’s father?”
Claire tightened her fingers around her daughter’s hand.
“No one.”
Luca’s eyes hardened.
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only answer you’re getting.”
Ivy looked between them.
She could feel something happening that she did not understand.
Her mother was afraid.
Not embarrassed.
Not angry.
Afraid.
Luca glanced at Ivy again.
Then at Claire.
“Seven years ago,” he said quietly, “a man disappeared from San Francisco.”
Claire's face went pale.
“Stop.”
“He was twenty-six.”
“Stop.”
“He worked for a Japanese shipping company before he started doing private security.”
Claire pulled Ivy behind her.
“Mr. Moretti, I don't know what you think you know.”
“I know his name.”
Claire said nothing.
Luca's voice became softer.
“Ethan Doyle.”
Ivy looked up.
“That’s Daddy.”
Claire closed her eyes.
The words had escaped before she could stop them.
Luca stared at her.
“So he is alive.”
Claire immediately shook her head.
“No.”
“Then why did you say—”
“I said that because she remembers his name.”
Luca looked at Ivy.
The little girl was confused.
“But Mommy said Daddy died.”
Claire's breath caught.
Luca noticed.
Ivy had never said that sentence with anger.
Only certainty.
Because that was what Claire had told her.
Her father died.
He had died before she could remember him.
A tragic accident.
A private loss.
A closed chapter.
Except Claire had never actually buried Ethan Doyle.
There had been no body.
No funeral.
No grave.
Only a police report, a burned vehicle found near Pier 48, and a photograph of a young man smiling beside a newborn baby.
Luca looked toward the security corridor.
One of the Japanese men was being searched.
Another had been handcuffed.
The third was speaking rapidly to an interpreter.
The fourth—the man with silver glasses—remained silent.
Luca turned back.
“You lied to me.”
Claire swallowed.
“I never told you anything.”
“You let me believe Ethan Doyle was dead.”
“You barely knew me.”
“I knew enough.”
Claire's voice cracked.
“Then you knew enough to leave it alone.”
Luca studied her.
“Why?”
Claire looked at Ivy.
Because of her.
Everything had always been because of Ivy.
Claire had spent seven years protecting her daughter from a truth she believed would destroy her.
“I was twenty-five,” she whispered. “I had a newborn baby. Ethan was working security for a company that didn't officially exist. One night he called me and told me not to trust anyone.”
Luca said nothing.
“He said he was leaving for a few days.”
Claire's eyes filled.
“He never came back.”
“What happened?”
“I told the police.”
“And?”
“They found his vehicle.”
“His body?”
“No.”
Luca's jaw tightened.
“Then why tell your daughter he was dead?”
“Because she was four when she started asking.”
Claire wiped one tear quickly.
“I couldn't tell a four-year-old that her father might be alive somewhere and simply didn't come home.”
Ivy looked at her.
“You said he died.”
“I know.”
“Did you lie?”
Claire knelt.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From Daddy?”
“From what happened to Daddy.”
Ivy looked confused.
Luca crouched beside them.
He spoke gently.
“Your mother was trying to keep you safe.”
Ivy nodded slowly.
Then she looked at him.
“Why did that man say I had his eyes?”
Luca didn't answer.
Claire did.
“Because people say stupid things.”
But Luca's expression had changed.
He wasn't convinced.
A security officer hurried toward him.
“Boss.”
Luca stood.
“What?”
“We found something.”
He handed Luca a small plastic evidence bag.
Inside was a silver lighter.
Luca's eyes narrowed.
He recognized it.
Claire did too.
Her face drained of color.
“No.”
Luca looked at her.
“You know it.”
Claire stepped backward.
“That belonged to Ethan.”
Silence.
Ivy stared at the lighter.
It had a tiny engraving on the side.
E.D.
Her father had carried it everywhere.
Claire had kept one identical photograph of it in an old box.
She had told herself it was the last thing she had left.
Luca looked toward the captured Japanese men.
“Where did you find this?”
“On the oldest suspect.”
Luca's eyes became cold.
“Bring him to the private room.”
Claire immediately said, “No.”
Luca looked at her.
“You don't want answers?”
“I don't want my daughter anywhere near this.”
“Neither do I.”
He looked at his security team.
“Get Claire and Ivy somewhere secure.”
Claire shook her head.
“I don't trust you.”
“You don't have to.”
Luca glanced at Ivy.
“But if those men know who she is, your apartment isn't safe.”
Claire froze.
“What do you mean?”
Luca lowered his voice.
“They didn't come here just to kill me.”
A security officer interrupted.
“Boss, the man with the glasses is asking for Claire.”
Claire went still.
“For me?”
“He said he knows where Ethan is.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Ivy reached for her mother's hand.
“Mommy?”
Claire squeezed it.
Luca looked directly into Claire's eyes.
“You're coming with me.”
“No.”
“This isn't negotiable.”
Claire's expression hardened.
“You don't tell me what to do with my daughter.”
“Then don't think of it as an order.”
Luca paused.
“Think of it as the only place in this city where I can guarantee nobody reaches her tonight.”
Claire looked at the armed guards.
Then at Ivy.
Then at the man who had just survived an attempted poisoning.
She hated that he was probably right.
“Fine.”
Luca nodded.
“But I have one condition.”
Claire frowned.
“What?”
“You don't lie to me again.”
She stared at him.
Then nodded.
“I won't.”
Luca looked at Ivy.
“And neither will I.”
The private room was on the hotel's upper floor.
Claire sat beside Ivy on a leather sofa.
Luca stood near the window.
Rain had begun tapping against the glass.
The city below looked beautiful.
Almost peaceful.
Nothing like the storm inside Claire's chest.
A knock sounded.
The oldest Japanese man entered with two security officers.
He looked calm.
Too calm.
Luca sat across from him.
“What is your name?”
The man smiled faintly.
“Kenji Sato.”
“Why were you here?”
Kenji looked at Claire.
Then Ivy.
Then Luca.
“We were not here for you.”
Luca leaned forward.
“Then who?”
Kenji smiled.
“Ethan Doyle.”
Claire stopped breathing.
Ivy whispered, “Daddy?”
Kenji's gaze moved toward her.
“Yes.”
Claire stood.
“You know where he is?”
Kenji didn't answer.
Luca's voice turned dangerous.
“Answer her.”
Kenji laughed softly.
“You still don't understand.”
“What?”
“The man who disappeared seven years ago was not running from us.”
Claire's heart pounded.
“Then who was he running from?”
Kenji looked at Ivy.
“His daughter.”
Claire pulled Ivy closer.
“Why?”
“Because Ethan discovered something.”
“What?”
Kenji's smile disappeared.
“He discovered that someone had ordered his death.”
Claire stared.
“Who?”
Kenji looked toward Luca.
“That is the question you should ask the man who has been protecting your family for seven years.”
Luca's expression changed.
“What did you say?”
Kenji smiled.
“Ask your father.”
Then he suddenly lunged.
The guards restrained him.
But before they dragged him away, Kenji looked directly at Ivy.
“He left something for you.”
Ivy froze.
“What?”
Kenji smiled.
“A red music box.”
Claire's face went completely white.
May you like
Because she knew exactly where it was.
And she had not opened it in seven years.
