Chapter 25 - The Cry in the Dark
"It's a boy," Dr. Evans announced, his voice thick with emotion as he held up a tiny, squirming, purple-skinned infant. The nurses quickly took him, wrapping him in warm blankets, suctioning his airways until his cries became louder, stronger, filling the sterile room with life.
Tears blinded me. "Dante... our boy..."
"I see him, Lena. He's beautiful," Dante choked out, kissing my knuckles. "He's perfect."
"Twin B incoming," Dr. Evans said, his hands moving with surgical precision. "Presentation is stable. Here she comes."
A minute later, a softer, sweeter cry echoed in the room.
"A healthy baby girl," the pediatrician smiled, carrying the second bundle toward us. "Leo and Maya. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Moretti."
For a fleeting, magical moment, the nightmare ceased to exist.
The nurses placed the two tiny bundles against my bare chest. They were so small, their skin soft as silk, their tiny fingers instinctively grasping at my hospital gown. Leo had a dusting of dark hair just like Dante's, while Maya’s wide, deep-set eyes were unmistakably mine. Dante knelt by the table, wrapping his massive arms around all three of us, weeping openly, his shoulders shaking with profound, overwhelming relief.
"You did it, my love," he whispered against my hair. "You brought them home."
The door to the operating room opened quietly. Keller stood in the threshold, still wearing his wet tactical gear. He didn't speak, but the look on his face shattered the brief sanctuary we had found.
Dante looked up, his expression hardening. He gently kissed my forehead and the foreheads of our sleeping twins, then stood and walked to the doorway.
"What is it, Keller?" Dante asked under his breath.
Keller handed him a thick manila envelope sealed with red wax. "This was just hand-delivered to the reception desk by a courier on a motorcycle. He was intercepted, but he was just a hired gig worker. Paid five hundred dollars in cash by a woman matching Julianna Vance's description."
Dante broke the wax seal and pulled out the contents.
Inside was a single legal document and an 8x10 glossy photograph.
The photograph showed Julianna Vance standing on the tarmac of a private airfield, holding the baby boy wrapped in a custom cashmere blanket bearing the Moretti crest. Beside her stood Judge Jonathan Miller, smiling warmly as he stamped an official court document.
The document was an Emergency Ex Parte Order issued by the Cook County Circuit Court:
*RE: THE INHERITANCE AND CUSTODY OF ALEXANDER MORETTI.*
*THE COURT HEREBY APPOINTS JULIANNA VANCE AS SOLE INTERIM TRUSTEE OF THE MORETTI MARITAL AND DYNASTIC ASSETS, EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY. FURTHERMORE, UNDER SECTION 402 OF THE ILLINOIS JUVENILE COURT ACT, AN APPREHENSION WARRANT HAS BEEN ISSUED FOR THE UNBORN/NEWBORN HEIRS OF DANTE MORETTI UPON SUSPICION OF FLIGHT TO AVOID CUSTODIAL PROCEEDINGS.*
Dante stared at the paper, his hands trembling with murderous rage. "She bought Miller. She didn't wait for 8:00 AM. She had him sign an emergency midnight order."
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"That's not all," Keller said, lowering his voice so I wouldn't hear, though every word cut through the quiet room like a razor. "Julianna didn't stay at the airstrip. Our surveillance teams spotted her private convoy heading north toward Lake Forest. She knows we’re here, Dante. She isn't hiding from the law—she's using the law as an armed escort to come take your children."
***
