Chapter 2
Elena was examined that night at Northwestern Memorial.
The baby was healthy.
Her blood pressure was elevated, but the obstetrician found no sign that the struggle at the reception had caused immediate harm.
Dante remained outside the treatment room until Elena asked for him.
She sat upright in the hospital bed with the damaged ultrasound beside her.
“You don’t have to stand over there.”
Dante pulled a chair closer.
Neither knew how to begin.
Six months earlier, Dante and Victoria had been separated.
Not publicly.
Their relationship had been failing for months, and Victoria had moved out of his Gold Coast home after another argument about marriage.
During that separation, Dante spent several weeks overseeing renovations at the planetarium his company owned.
Elena coordinated educational events there.
Their relationship had lasted less than two months.
When Victoria returned, Dante ended it with Elena honestly.
He did not know she was pregnant.
“I found out nine days later,” Elena said.
“Why didn’t you call my personal number?”
“I did.”
Dante frowned.
“Twice.”
“I never got those calls.”
“I left a voicemail.”
He looked at Rachel, who stood near the window.
“We’ll check.”
Elena stared down at her hands.
“Then Preston called me.”
She told Dante that Preston had known details only someone close to him should know.
The dates.
The breakup.
Victoria moving back into Dante’s home.
“He said you were embarrassed.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“He said if I cared about you, I’d disappear before anybody found out.”
“And you believed him?”
“At first.”
Elena looked embarrassed.
“You’re Dante Caradonna. I was an events coordinator who dated you for seven weeks.”
The age difference did not need explanation.
Neither did the imbalance in power.
Dante had assumed giving Elena space after their breakup was respectful.
She had interpreted his silence after the pregnancy as rejection.
Both had been living inside information controlled by Preston.
“There was something else,” Elena said.
Dante looked up.
“About six weeks ago, someone tried to run me off the road.”
Rachel straightened.
Dante’s voice became quieter.
“What?”
“I didn’t know if it was connected.”
“Why didn’t you report it?”
“I did.”
A police report existed.
No plate.
No useful camera angle.
Elena’s car had struck a guardrail outside Evanston, but she escaped with bruising.
Afterward, another message came from Preston.
LEAVE CHICAGO BEFORE YOU GET SOMEBODY HURT.
Dante looked toward Rachel.
“Get the report.”
Elena touched the burned corner of the ultrasound.
“I came tonight because I stopped believing they were speaking for you.”
Dante looked at the child moving faintly beneath her dress.
Then he remembered Preston’s words at the reception.
Why is she still alive?
May you like
Suddenly the sentence did not sound like panic.
It sounded like surprise.
