Chapter 6 - Sophia’s Child
Sophia went into premature labor at thirty-four weeks. The baby survived. A boy. Elias Bennett Moretti. Alexander called Victoria only because the news had already become public and he did not want her to learn from television. She stared at the phone. “How is he?” “Small. Breathing on his own.” “And Sophia?” “Stable.” Victoria closed her eyes.
“Good.” Alexander was quiet. “Thank you.” “Do not thank me for not wishing harm on a baby.” “I wasn’t.” He sounded tired. The next weeks changed Alexander in ways scandal had not. He spent hours in the neonatal unit. No cameras. No announcements. He learned feeding schedules. Oxygen levels. How to place one finger inside a tiny hand without disturbing wires.
Sophia remained in the hospital recovering from complications. Their relationship was over, but parenthood began anyway. That mattered. Victoria learned most of it through Nathan because Chicago’s media treated Elias like public property. She hated that. One afternoon, she sent Alexander a message. Keep cameras away from the hospital. His reply came immediately. Already done.
She stared at the screen. Then added: And away from Sophia. Longer pause. Agreed. That was the first time Victoria defended Sophia without forgiving her. The distinction felt important. At the same time, Peter Bennett’s case produced another complication. His lawyers argued that Sophia had acted as an informal investigator for years and had unlawfully obtained information from Moretti systems.
That was true. They tried to shift blame toward her. Sophia agreed to cooperate fully with prosecutors. Her testimony exposed Peter’s instructions, financial transfers, and efforts to identify anyone investigating old Bennett routes. She admitted her own lies. Her affair. Her access to Alexander’s communications. The testimony damaged her reputation. It also helped convict the man who had manipulated her grief for years.
Victoria watched part of it from a private feed. Sophia looked smaller on the witness stand. Not innocent. Human. Peter was eventually convicted of conspiracy, obstruction, fraud, and charges tied to Arthur’s death. Samuel Keene received a reduced sentence for cooperation. No dramatic execution. No revenge killing. Just law. Slow. Imperfect. Real enough. After the verdict, Sophia requested one meeting with Victoria.
Nathan advised against it. Victoria said yes. They met in a private room at the hospital where Elias still received follow-up care. Sophia looked exhausted. Motherhood had stripped away the polished confidence Victoria remembered. “I’m not here to ask for friendship,” Sophia said. “Good.” “I wanted to tell you something before you hear it somewhere else.”
Victoria waited. “My father did not die the way Alexander told people.” Victoria frowned. “Marcus?” “Yes.” Sophia looked down. “He was killed during the dock war. That part is true. But he had ordered murders first. Including one of Alexander’s drivers who had three children.” Victoria said nothing. “I spent years making my father into a victim because grief was easier that way.”
Her voice shook. “Peter encouraged it.” Victoria understood the pattern immediately. Everyone preferred stories where guilt belonged entirely to someone else. Sophia continued. “I used that story to justify getting close to Alexander. Then I used loving him to justify what I did to you.” She looked up. “I was wrong.” Victoria held her gaze.
“Yes.” “I know.” No tears from Victoria. Not yet. Sophia asked, “Do you hate my son?” Victoria’s face changed. “No.” “Even though—” “He did nothing.” Sophia cried then. Quietly. Victoria let her. When the meeting ended, Sophia said, “I’m leaving Chicago when Elias is strong enough.” “Where?” “Montreal. My mother is there.” “What about Alexander?”
“He’ll visit. We’re working out custody.” Victoria nodded. That sounded healthy. Unexpectedly. At home that night, Victoria thought about the strange architecture of the last year. Her husband betrayed her with the daughter of his dead rival. That woman carried his child. Her father died because of a chain involving both families. Yet the truth had not produced a single clean villain.
Peter was guilty. Keene was guilty. Alexander was guilty of betrayal, negligence, and violence toward Victoria. Sophia was guilty of deception and silence. Marco was guilty of careless loyalty. Victoria had her own smaller guilt: she had ignored signs in her marriage because acknowledging them threatened the life she wanted. None of that made the crimes equal.
It made the people real. Her divorce became final three months after Elias’s birth. Alexander did not attend the final hearing in person. Neither did she. The judge signed. Ten years became documents. That evening, Alexander sent one message. I am sorry for what I made our marriage become. Victoria read it. Then replied: I am too.
He wrote: For what? She stared at the question. Then answered honestly. For staying silent after I knew silence was hurting me. Alexander did not argue. That mattered. A month later, he donated two million dollars anonymously to the Arthur Miller Patient Integrity Fund. Victoria found out because Nathan traced the source during compliance review.
She called Alexander. “Take it back.” He did not pretend not to understand. “Why?” “Because the fund cannot become your penance.” “It isn’t.” “Then why anonymous?” “Because I knew you would refuse if my name was on it.” She closed her eyes. “Which means you knowingly bypassed my choice.” Silence. Then: “You’re right.” “Take it back.”
“Okay.” He did. No argument. Two days later, he emailed the fund’s public grant application form. Subject: Asking this time. Victoria laughed despite herself. She approved the application only after the board reviewed it like every other donor request. That was progress. For both of them.
Elias’s birth also forced Victoria to confront a feeling she disliked in herself: jealousy of a baby. Not of him as a person, but of the version of Alexander he received. Alexander attended neonatal appointments, learned medical terminology, and rearranged meetings without complaint. Victoria would see photographs in the press of him entering the hospital and remember begging him to leave a board dinner early when her father was dying.
She told Nathan once, ashamed. “I resent that he knows how to show up now.” Nathan said, “You can resent the timing without resenting the child.” That distinction helped. When Alexander later told her that Elias had gained enough weight to leave the hospital, Victoria congratulated him. Her voice sounded normal. It did not feel normal. Healing, she discovered, often involved behaving according to the person you wanted to be before your feelings caught up.
Sophia faced a different consequence. Montreal offered anonymity, but not absolution. As part of her cooperation agreement, she had to disclose her role in obtaining confidential information and helping Peter identify Arthur’s inquiry. She lost professional licenses connected to regulated communications work. Several charities removed her from boards. She accepted those consequences without asking Alexander to intervene.
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That mattered to Victoria too. The triangle that had once looked like wife, husband, mistress was dissolving into three adults with separate responsibilities. Alexander could not save Sophia from hers. Sophia could not use Elias to erase them. Victoria could not make Alexander’s remorse restore her father. When the final divorce decree arrived, Victoria placed it beside Arthur’s case file. One document ended a marriage. The other explained a death. She realized she had spent months letting both occupy the same emotional space.
They did not belong there. Arthur’s death was not the reason her marriage failed. Alexander’s choices were.
