Chapter 2 - The Shattered Glass
The silence inside the private dining room of Aurelia was heavy enough to crush bone. Outside, the muffled clatter of silver cutlery and gentle jazz played on, blissfully ignorant of the devastation taking place behind the heavy oak door.
Luca hadn’t taken his eyes off Eli and Mara. His hands trembled—hands that had controlled billion-dollar acquisitions, hands that had never shaken once in his life—as he reached out toward Eli’s dark curly hair. Eli shrank back slightly, pressing his shoulder against Nia’s hip, his tiny hands clutching the fabric of her coat. Mara, bolder than her brother, tilted her chin up and stared right back at Luca with the exact same stormy blue eyes that had tormented Nia’s dreams for six long years.
Evelyn stood near the door, her silk dress rustling as she crossed her arms. Her face was a mask of polished porcelain, but her manicured fingers were digging into her elbows so hard the skin turned white.
"Luca," Evelyn’s voice cut through the air, tight and dangerously quiet. "What is the meaning of this? Who is this woman, and why are you looking at her children like you’ve seen a ghost?"
Luca didn't turn around. His voice was a raspy whisper, stripped of all corporate composure. "Leave us, Evelyn."
"I am your wife," Evelyn snapped, stepping forward, her red lips pulling into a sharp line. "I am not going to stand in a private room while you stare at your ex-wife and two random children—"
"I said leave!" Luca roared, turning his head just enough for his profile to show the white-hot fury radiating beneath his skin. "Go back to the car. Now."
Evelyn gasped, a flush of dark embarrassment climbing her neck. She shot Nia a look filled with pure venom before spinning on her heel and storming out, slamming the door behind her.
Nia didn't feel victorious. She felt exposed, bare, and fiercely protective. She pulled both Eli and Mara closer to her sides, wrapping her arms around their shoulders.
"You shouldn't have yelled in front of them," Nia said, her voice steady despite the hammer of her heart against her ribs. "And you shouldn't have brought us back here. My children are having lunch."
"Our children," Luca breathed. He dropped to his knees right there on the parquet floor, bringing himself down to eye level with the twins. The sight of Luca Moretti—a man who owned half of the Chicago skyline—kneeling in the dirt of his own undoing was enough to steal the breath from Nia’s lungs. "Nia... look at them. Look at Eli. Look at Mara. They have my father’s jaw. They have my eyes."
"You lost the right to claim what they look like six years ago, Luca," Nia whispered, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. "You walked out on me. You packed your bags and told me I wasn't enough."
"I was lied to!" Luca shouted desperately, though he quickly softened his tone as Eli flinched. Luca pulled his phone from his tailored jacket with desperate speed, his fingers flying across the screen before thrusting it toward Nia. "Read it. Look at the date. Look at the signature."
Nia hesitated, but the sheer agony in Luca’s eyes forced her gaze down to the glowing screen. It was a digital copy of an official medical summary from the Lakeshore Fertility Institute, dated six months before their divorce.
Patient: Nia Carter-Moretti. Diagnosis: Severe Diminished Ovarian Reserve (DOR). Follicle count insufficient for viable pregnancy. Recommendation: Terminate fertility treatments; consider third-party donor options.
Nia’s blood ran cold. She remembered that document. She remembered sitting in Dr. Vance’s office, waiting for Luca, but Luca had called at the last minute saying he was tied up in a board meeting. Dr. Vance had handed Luca the report directly at his office later that afternoon.
"I never had diminished ovarian reserve," Nia whispered, her voice trembling as the horrifying reality began to dawn on her. "Every lab test I took personally came back normal. Dr. Vance told me we just needed more time, that stress was delaying it..."
"Vance didn't tell me that," Luca said, his voice cracked with raw pain. "Vance gave me this report. He told me you were hiding it from me because you were afraid I’d leave you. He said you were wasting time on treatments that had a zero percent chance of working. My mother was standing right beside him, holding my shoulder, telling me that you were lying to me... that you were letting me hope for a family that you knew you could never give me."
Nia staggered back an inch, her hand covering her mouth. The memories came crashing back like a tidal wave—Luca’s sudden coldness, his late nights, the distance that grew until it was a canyon between them. He hadn't just given up on their love; he had believed his wife was a fraud who was lying to his face every single day.
"And your mother?" Nia asked, the word tasting like poison. "What about the fifty thousand dollars?"
Luca pulled up a second document—a forensic accounting report from three days ago. It showed a wire transfer from a shell company registered under Victoria Moretti’s name directly into an offshore account owned by Dr. Vance’s wife. Dated fourteen days before Luca signed the divorce papers.
"My mother bought the medical report," Luca said, a tear finally spilling over his dark lashes and tracing down his cheek. "She faked your diagnosis. She destroyed my trust in you. She made me believe the woman I loved more than life itself was deceiving me... so I would break."
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Nia looked from the phone to Luca’s shattered face, then down at Eli and Mara, who were quietly watching their father with wide, curious eyes.
"She didn't just break your trust, Luca," Nia said, her voice dropping to a icy, lethal whisper. "She stole six years of my children's lives. And you... you believed her instead of believing me."
