Chapter 3

"Enough."

I picked Mia up and looked at Marco coldly.

"Everything that happened here today is on camera.

"I don't need you to believe me and I don't need an apology.

"Let security handle it."

A project manager scoffed, "Security? Ma'am, you trespassed in Mr. Moretti's private lounge, and now you're threatening us?"

He knew Marco.

More precisely, he knew Marco was bidding for the new harbor contract, so he instinctively sided with him.

Livia said softly, "Don't be hard on her. She was always proud. She probably just heard Mr. Moretti would be here today and wanted to try her luck."

Marco's face went dark instantly.

"Elena, you really are here for him?"

"That's none of your business."

To him those words were obviously a confession.

"You have a child and you're doing this?"

"Marco." I looked straight at him. "You had better shut up."

Infuriated by my tone, he reached for Mia.

"Hand her over. I can't stop you from ruining your own life, but I won't watch my daughter go down with you."

Mia shrieked and locked her arms around my neck.

"You're not my daddy!"

Marco went livid.

Without warning, Livia grabbed Mia around the waist and tried to wrench her away.

"Don't be scared, come with us—"

Mia struggled, and Livia actually raised her hand and struck the child.

The crack of the blow froze everyone.

A roar filled my head.

I lunged forward, snatched Mia back, and slapped Livia across the face.

"Touch her one more time and see what happens."

Livia covered her cheek and the tears came instantly.

Marco seized my wrist.

"Have you lost your mind?"

"You're the ones who've lost it."

"She was only trying to help!"

"Does helping involve hitting a child?"

"You've raised her with no discipline at all!"

I looked at him and suddenly thought of Sofia.

If that child had lived, she would have been five by now.

Would she have called for me too, the way Mia does when she is afraid?

The hatred I had held down for five years surged up all at once.

"She isn't your daughter," I said, enunciating every word. "Her last name is Moretti."

The room went quiet for a second.

Then someone laughed.

"Moretti?"

"You mean the Moretti family from the East Coast?"

Livia laughed too, tears still on her lashes.

"Elena, even if you want Marco to give up on you, you don't have to go that far."

Marco's expression only got worse.

"You'll even say a thing like that?"

I understood then that explaining further was a waste of time.

I held Mia tight and turned to leave.

Several contractors blocked the door.

"Don't let her run." The project manager lowered his voice. "If she really is impersonating Mrs. Moretti, Mr. Moretti will demand answers when he arrives. Holding her here would count as solving a problem for him."

Marco did not stop them.

Livia certainly did not.

"Don't hurt the child," she even added, for show.

Two men grabbed me from behind and held me down.

Mia threw herself toward me in tears, but Livia caught her.

"Mommy!"

"Let go of her!"

I fought as hard as I could, hit my shoulder on the door frame, and my vision went black with the pain.

Someone suggested locking me in the old cold-storage area so I could not run off.

Marco frowned.

"It's too cold in there."

I thought there was some humanity in him after all.

But his next words were, "Lock her up for fifteen minutes. Then we'll see what the Moretti people want to do when they get here."

Fifteen minutes.

Five years ago he also said he would be right back.

I stopped struggling.

As they shoved me into a refrigerated container pending inspection, I looked back at Marco.

"You had better remember today."

Something in his face shifted.

The steel door closed in front of me.

The cold went into my bones fast.

I wrapped my arms around myself and pressed my back to the container wall, grateful for only one thing: they had not shoved Mia in with me.

But my child's sobs never stopped outside the door.

A little over ten minutes later, her sobs turned shrill.

"Don't pinch me!

"You horrible woman!"

I threw myself at the door.

"Mia!"

Nobody answered me.

I lost track of how much time passed before my fingertips began to go numb.

Just as my mind began to blur, I heard engines approaching in unison.

Then someone outside cried out.

"Mr. Moretti is here."