Chapter 1 - THE MAN WHO SIGNED HIS NAME
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
I just stared at the black ink drying beside the word FATHER.
Luka Moretti.
My newborn daughter shifted against my chest.
Her tiny fingers curled around the edge of my hospital gown.
I looked from her to the tattooed stranger standing beside me.
“You can't do that.”
Luka didn't move.
“Already did.”
“That isn't funny.”
“I wasn't trying to be funny.”
The nurse holding the folder looked almost as stunned as I felt.
“Sir, this document hasn't been officially filed yet.”
“Good.”
Luka reached for it.
“Then don't file it.”
The nurse blinked.
“You just signed it.”
“I needed someone to notice.”
I stared at him.
“Notice what?”
Luka turned the certificate around.
His finger landed on the space where my husband Derek's information should have been.
It was blank.
My stomach tightened.
“That doesn't make sense.”
Derek had filled out the paperwork that morning.
I had watched him do it.
He had complained about my handwriting and taken the clipboard from me.
He had written his full name.
Derek Calloway.
His date of birth.
His address.
Everything.
Now every piece of information connected to him was gone.
Only my information remained.
And Luka's fresh signature.
“Where did Derek's information go?”
The nurse frowned.
“I don't know.”
Luka did.
I could see it in his face.
“You know something.”
His eyes met mine.
“Yes.”
“Then tell me.”
“Not here.”
Anger exploded through the exhaustion.
“My husband just left me with another woman.”
“My daughter's paperwork has somehow been changed.”
“And a man I've never met walks into my hospital room and signs himself as her father.”
I stepped closer.
“You're telling me right here.”
For the first time, something changed in Luka's expression.
Not anger.
Fear.
He looked toward the security camera above the nurses' station.
Then he leaned closer.
“Your husband didn't leave because he stopped loving you.”
My throat tightened.
“Don't defend him.”
“I'm not.”
Luka's voice became colder.
“He left because someone paid him.”
The hallway seemed to tilt.
“What?”
“Three hundred thousand dollars was transferred into an account connected to Derek forty-eight hours ago.”
I laughed once.
It sounded broken.
“You're insane.”
“I wish I was.”
He pulled out his phone.
A banking record filled the screen.
I saw Derek's name.
I saw the amount.
$300,000.
And beneath it was a transfer code.
M17-CLEARANCE.
My blood went cold.
“What is M-17?”
Luka locked the phone.
“The reason I'm here.”
My daughter suddenly began crying.
I pulled her closer.
Luka's entire demeanor changed.
The intimidating stranger disappeared for half a second.
He looked almost human.
Almost gentle.
“What's her name?”
“Grace.”
He froze.
“What?”
“Grace.”
Luka stared at my daughter.
Something about that name had hit him.
Hard.
“Why did you choose that name?”
“My father chose it.”
The color disappeared from Luka's face.
“My father died when I was sixteen.”
Luka stepped backward.
“What was his name?”
“Thomas Hale.”
The silence that followed terrified me more than anything Luka had said.
His jaw tightened.
Then he whispered something under his breath.
“No.”
“What?”
He looked directly at me.
“Your father wasn't Thomas Hale.”
My chest tightened.
“Don't you dare.”
“He raised you.”
“He loved you.”
“But he wasn't your biological father.”
I slapped him.
The sound cracked through the hallway.
The nurse gasped.
Luka didn't react.
He didn't touch his cheek.
He didn't get angry.
He simply looked at me.
“Feel better?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Because we don't have time.”
He reached inside his jacket.
I immediately backed away.
Instead of a weapon, Luka pulled out an old photograph.
He handed it to me.
Four people stood outside what looked like a private medical research building.
One was my father.
Much younger.
Beside him stood a woman I recognized instantly.
My mother.
She had died when I was five.
The third person was a doctor.
The fourth was Luka.
Except he couldn't have been older than seventeen.
My hands began shaking.
“You knew my parents.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Your father saved my life.”
I looked at the photograph again.
On the building behind them was a small silver plaque.
MORETTI BIOMEDICAL RESEARCH CENTER.
I stared at Luka.
“Moretti.”
“My family owned it.”
“What happened there?”
Luka's eyes moved toward Grace.
“Project M-17.”
A hospital alarm suddenly sounded somewhere downstairs.
Then the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
The nurse looked toward the elevator.
“That's strange.”
Luka immediately grabbed the medical folder.
His entire body became tense.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“We need to leave.”
“I was discharged tomorrow.”
“You're being discharged now.”
“Why?”
The elevator doors opened.
Two men wearing hospital security uniforms stepped out.
Luka stared at them.
Neither man looked toward the nurses.
Neither looked toward the alarm.
Both looked directly at Grace.
Luka moved between them and us.
His voice became dangerously quiet.
“Because those aren't hospital security guards.”
One of the men reached inside his jacket.
Luka turned toward me.
“Take Grace.”
“Go through the maternity ward.”
“Don't stop.”
I couldn't move.
“Luka—”
May you like
“RUN.”
And that was when the first man pulled out a gun.
