Chapter 8 - HIS BLOOD, HER CHOICE
The first supervised meeting lasted twenty-seven minutes.
Not thirty.
Noah started crying at minute twenty-six, and Natalie ended it.
Luca did not argue.
That mattered.
The visit took place in Olivia’s child-friendly conference room, which
contained foam blocks, a toy kitchen, two stuffed bears, and furniture
designed to make adults feel too large.
Luca arrived without a suit jacket.
Natalie noticed. Hated that she noticed.
He sat on the floor before the twins entered so he would not tower over
them.
That mattered too.
Eli stared at him first.
Noah stayed close to Natalie’s leg.
Luca did not reach.
“Hi,” he said quietly.
The boys looked at him.
His voice shook almost invisibly on the next sentence.
“I’m Luca.”
Not Dad.
Natalie had insisted.
He obeyed.
Eli crawled toward the wooden block basket.
Luca picked up one block, then stopped and looked at Natalie before
sliding it across the rug.
She nodded once.
He pushed it gently toward Eli.
Eli grabbed it.
That was all.
No miracle. No instant blood recognition. No swelling music.
A child took a block from a stranger.
Luca’s eyes filled anyway.
Natalie looked away.
At minute eleven, Noah became interested in Luca’s watch.
Luca removed it and set it on the carpet.
Noah touched the metal band.
Then hit it twice against the floor.
Luca almost laughed.
Natalie did not stop him.
At minute twenty-three, Eli crawled onto Luca’s shoe.
Luca froze completely.
Natalie saw the instinct to pick him up.
He did not.
At minute twenty-six, Noah cried.
Natalie stood.
“We’re done.”
Luca nodded immediately.
“Okay.”
He rose slowly.
The boys did not care that he was leaving.
That hurt him.
Natalie could see it.
Good, some bitter part of her thought.
Then she hated herself for wanting pain to balance pain.
At the door, Luca said, “Thank you.”
She did not answer.
Outside in the hallway, he paused.
“Can I ask one question?”
Natalie’s body tightened.
“What?”
“Were they sick after birth?”
She stared.
He swallowed.
“I saw the photos.”
Of course.
Evelyn finally gave him the letter.
“Noah needed oxygen for eight days,” Natalie said. “Eli was smaller but
stronger.”
Luca closed his eyes briefly.
“Were you alone?”
“My mother arrived the next morning.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Natalie’s face hardened.
“Yes.”
He nodded once.
No defense.
No explanation.
“I’m sorry.”
She laughed softly.
“You keep saying that like repetition changes time.”
“No.”
“Then stop.”
He looked at her.
“All right.”
She expected argument.
None came.
That restraint was becoming dangerous.
At Moretti Holdings, the trust war intensified.
Independent forensic counsel confirmed Marco Moretti’s archived sample
had been requested from family medical storage two days before Natalie’s
prenatal test.
Requesting authority: M. Harlan, MD.
Release authorization: Moretti Legacy Medical Office.
Digital approval: E. Moretti.
Luca stared at the letter E.
Evelyn.
He called her immediately.
She arrived with her own copy already in hand.
“I did not authorize this.”
“Your credential did.”
“Yes.”
“Who else had access?”
“Family counsel could route medical approvals under emergency trustee
protocols.”
“Vincent.”
“Potentially.”
“Potentially?”
Evelyn threw the page onto the table.
“You want me to say his name because you’re angry. I want proof because
prison sentences are more useful when they survive appeal.”
Luca paced once.
“Why Marco?”
“Because a Moretti male sample would look administratively plausible.
And genetically, he was your half brother. Enough difference to exclude
you.”
“Who knew his sample still existed?”
“Harlan. Vincent. Me. You, if you had remembered.”
Luca stopped.
Evelyn looked at him.
“This family hid medical archives inside power structures for decades.
That is the larger problem.”
His phone rang.
Natalie.
First direct call in thirteen months.
He answered immediately.
“Natalie?”
Her voice came cold.
“Vincent’s attorney offered me fifty million dollars.”
Luca went still.
“For what?”
“To sign a permanent trust disclaimer on behalf of the twins and agree
not to challenge the original paternity filing.”
Evelyn’s face changed.
Luca gripped the phone.
“Do not sign anything.”
Natalie laughed sharply.
“There you are.”
He closed his eyes.
“Sorry. That sounded like an order.”
“Yes.”
“What did you tell them?”
“No.”
Relief came too fast.
He hated himself for it.
Natalie continued.
“But he said something else.”
“What?”
“He said the prenatal test was only one part of a succession contingency
written before I ever got pregnant.”
Luca stopped breathing.
“What contingency?”
“He told me to ask Evelyn.”
Luca slowly looked at his sister.
Evelyn’s face had gone pale.
On the phone, Natalie said:
May you like
“She knows exactly what he meant.”
And Evelyn did.
