PART 2 — “THEN TELL ME… WHAT EXACTLY SHOULD I CALL HER?”

The question sliced through the rain like broken glass.

My fiancée, Vivian Ashcroft, looked down at the little girl standing beside me as if she were something that had wandered into the wrong life.

Then she smiled.

Coldly.

“So tell me, Adrian…”

She folded her arms.

“What exactly should I call her?”

“A mistake?”

“A charity case?”

“Or should I call her… your daughter?”

The crowd fell silent.

Rain drummed against the black umbrellas.

Traffic slowed.

People stopped walking.

Even the photographers forgot why they were there.

I looked at the little girl.

She wasn’t crying.

She simply held tighter to her mother’s hand.

Children always know when adults are being cruel.

Her mother—Mara—looked as though she wanted the sidewalk to swallow her whole.

Her soaked hair clung to her face.

Her shoes were falling apart.

The folder pressed against her chest had begun dissolving in the rain.

Inside were dozens of job applications.

Every page stained by water.

She had obviously spent the entire morning looking for work.

While I…

had been on my way to marry another woman.

I felt sick.

“Her name,” I said quietly, “is Lily.”

Vivian laughed.

“How touching.”

“You learn one little girl’s name and suddenly you’re playing the hero?”

I slowly turned toward her.

“No.”

“I stopped pretending long before I got out of that limousine.”

She stared at me.

“What does that mean?”

Before I could answer, my longtime chief of security, Miles, stepped closer.

His voice remained calm.

“Sir… reporters are arriving.”

I glanced behind him.

At least twenty cameras were already pointed toward us.

Social media livestreams had begun.

Within minutes…

the entire city would know something had gone terribly wrong.

Vivian grabbed my arm.

“We’re leaving.”

“Now.”

“The ceremony starts in twenty minutes.”

I gently removed her hand.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes widened.

“What?”

I wasn’t looking at her anymore.

I was looking at Mara.

She still refused to meet my eyes.

As though she believed she had no right.

“Mara…”

She shook her head immediately.

“No.”

“Please.”

“No, Adrian.”

Her voice barely rose above the rain.

“You don’t owe us anything.”

Us.

That single word made my heart pound.

I looked down again.

Lily was watching me with enormous gray eyes.

Eyes…

that looked exactly like mine.

She tugged softly on Mara’s sleeve.

“Mommy…”

“Is he the man from the picture?”

Everything inside me stopped.

“What picture?” I whispered.

Mara closed her eyes.

“Sweetheart…”

But Lily had already answered.

“The one in the purple box.”

“The one Mommy kisses when she thinks I’m sleeping.”

Mara’s shoulders trembled.

She covered her mouth.

The world around me blurred.

Three years.

Three years I had searched every city where I thought she might have gone.

I hired investigators.

Private detectives.

I even checked hospitals.

Everyone told me the same thing.

She disappeared.

Now she was standing less than three feet away…

holding a little girl who called me Daddy…

and telling me I had never truly lost her.

Vivian’s patience finally snapped.

“Oh, for God’s sake!”

She pointed directly at Mara.

“Are you honestly telling me you expect us to believe this pathetic little performance?”

“You vanish for years…”

“Then suddenly appear on my wedding day carrying a child?”

“How convenient.”

Mara’s face turned pale.

“I didn’t come here for him.”

Vivian scoffed.

“Really?”

“Then why are you here?”

Mara slowly lifted the soaked folder.

“I came…”

“…for a cleaning job.”

Confused, I looked toward the towering glass skyscraper behind us.

The headquarters of my company.

Today’s date flashed across my memory.

My assistant had mentioned interviews for the new housekeeping staff.

My stomach twisted.

She hadn’t come to stop my wedding.

She hadn’t come asking for money.

She hadn’t even known I would be here.

She had simply come looking for work…

in the company owned by the man she had once loved.

The realization crushed me.

Before anyone could speak again…

Lily began coughing.

Hard.

Violently.

She shivered in Mara’s arms.

Her tiny lips had turned slightly blue from the cold.

Without thinking, I removed my tuxedo jacket and wrapped it around her.

She looked up at me with a shy smile.

“Thank you…”

Then she whispered something so softly…

only I could hear it.

“Mommy says you make the best pancakes.”

My knees almost gave out.

Only one person knew about midnight pancakes.

Only one.

Mara.

I slowly lifted my eyes toward her.

She was crying now.

Not loudly.

Not dramatically.

Just silently…

like someone who had carried heartbreak for far too long.

Then, before I could ask another question…

Miles’ phone suddenly rang.

He answered.

Listened for only a few seconds.

The color drained from his face.

He looked directly at me.

“Sir…”

He hesitated.

“I think you need to see this.”

“What is it?”

He swallowed hard.

“It’s about your father…”

I frowned.

“My father has been dead for three years.”

Miles slowly pulled a cream-colored envelope from inside his briefcase.

Across the front…

written in my late father’s unmistakable handwriting…

were six words that made my blood run cold.

FOR ADRIAN—OPEN ONLY IF MARA RETURNS.

To be continued…