Chapter 4 - The Shadow in the Archives
The private investigation office Marcus ran out of a cluttered third-floor walk-up in downtown Manhattan was worlds away from Ethan’s pristine glass-and-steel penthouse. Yet, by nine o’clock that same evening, Marcus had pulled up files that made the temperature in Ethan’s office drop several degrees.
Ethan sat behind his massive mahogany desk, the city lights of Manhattan twinkling far below, while Lily slept soundly on the leather sofa in the corner, wrapped in Ethan’s cashmere overcoat.
Marcus slid a manila folder across the blotter.
"You were right to be suspicious, Ethan," Marcus said, lighting a stale cigarette before remembering where he was and quickly stubbing it out. "Sarah Carter isn't her real maiden name. It’s an alias she adopted three years ago."
Ethan opened the folder. Inside were old newspaper clippings, birth certificates, and public records. His dark eyes scanned the lines rapidly.
"Her maiden name is Sarah Vance," Marcus continued, tapping a finger against a wedding announcement from four years ago. "And the man whose face was cut out of that photograph? His name is Julian Vance. Or rather, Julian Moretti."
Ethan’s head snapped up, a cold shock hitting his chest. "Moretti? As in the Moretti family?"
"The same," Marcus nodded grimly. "Julian was the younger brother of Antonio Moretti—the man who controls the docks and half the syndicates in the Tri-State area. Four years ago, Sarah fell in love with Julian, got pregnant with Lily, and tried to pull him out of the family business. Julian tried to cut ties with his brother to protect them."
Ethan stared at the documents, the pieces of the puzzle violently clicking into place. "And what happened to Julian?"
"Official police record says a tragic construction accident in Queens," Marcus said quietly. "Fell from the seventh floor of an unfinished high-rise. Case closed, body cremated, investigation sealed under suspicious circumstances. But anyone with half a brain in this city knows what a 'construction accident' means when a Moretti tries to walk away."
The silence in the office grew suffocating. Ethan looked over at the sofa, where three-year-old Lily stirred slightly in her sleep, clutching her stuffed bear. The innocent little girl walking into his store with eleven dollars and thirty-seven cents to buy a father hadn't just been a random act of childhood desperation. She was the hidden granddaughter of New York’s most feared mafia kingpin—and the target of a bloodline war that had supposedly ended in fire and ash four years ago.
"Does Antonio Moretti know she exists?" Ethan asked, his voice dead flat.
"As far as public records and underworld whispers go? No," Marcus replied. "Sarah went deep underground. Changed her name, hid in Astoria, worked two jobs, and lived like a pauper just to keep her daughter off the Moretti radar. If Antonio finds out he has a granddaughter living three miles from his estate, he’ll take her. And if he finds out Sarah survived... she won't last twenty-four hours."
Before Ethan could process the staggering weight of the revelation, his office door burst open.
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His executive assistant, Melissa, rushed inside, her face pale, holding a glowing tablet.
"Ethan, you need to see this now," she stammered. "Saint Jude's Hospital just called. Sarah Carter woke up... but she’s not alone."
