Chapter 5 - SEATTLE SUNRISE
Seven months later.
The morning sun rose over the waters of Puget Sound, casting a warm, amber light across the glass-and-steel skyline of downtown Seattle.
In a bright, spacious design studio on the twelfth floor of a historic building in Pioneer Square, I stood over a massive drafting table reviewing blueprinted elevations for a new public library complex.
My hair was pulled back in a loose, comfortable bun. I wore a simple cream-colored linen dress that draped comfortably over the large, beautiful curve of my seven-month bump.
My life had transformed completely in seven months.
With the help of my firm’s senior partners, I had transitioned smoothly into my role as Director of Sustainable Architecture for the Pacific Northwest division. I owned a charming, light-filled craftsman house in Bainbridge Island, accessible by a quiet thirty-minute ferry ride across the bay.
I had friends here. Real friends. People who knew my name, who shared meals with me without expecting me to clear their plates, who asked about my day and listened—really listened—to my answers.
My phone on the drafting table buzzed softly. I picked it up.
Dr. Lawson: “Hi Emma, just confirming your 32-week 3D anatomy scan today at 2:00 PM. Baby’s growth looks fantastic on the bloodwork!”
I smiled, rubbing my hand gently over my stomach. A strong, energetic kick answered my touch from within. A boy. My little boy.
“Emma?” my junior architect, Clara II—we called her CJ to avoid confusion—stepped into my office holding two iced herbal teas. “The client for the Waterfront Project is downstairs in the main conference room.”
“Thanks, CJ,” I said, taking the tea with a warm smile. “Are the revised site models ready?”
“All set,” CJ grinned. “Oh, and there’s a gentleman waiting in the main lobby. He didn't have an appointment, but he said he’s an attorney from Chicago representing an estate trust.”
My hand froze on the tea cup. The warm morning sun suddenly felt very cold against my skin.
“Did he give a name?” I asked smoothly, keeping my voice entirely level.
“Harrison Vance,” CJ replied, checking her notepad. “He said it was regarding an urgent personal matter involving the Moretti Estate.”
I took a slow, deep breath, feeling my baby move gently against my ribs. Seven months ago, that name would have sent a wave of paralyzing panic through my chest. Today, sitting in my own office, surrounded by my own achievements, it barely caused a ripple.
“Show him to the small corner room, CJ,” I said, standing up from my drafting stool and smoothing down my dress. “Give him ten minutes. I’ll be right in.”
Five minutes later, I pushed open the glass door of the secondary conference room.
Harrison Vance sat at the polished oak table, holding a black leather briefcase. When I stepped inside, he stood up quickly, his eyes instantly dropping to my prominent, pregnant stomach. A look of profound, stunned shock crossed his seasoned face.
“Emma...” Harrison breathed, his voice lacking all its usual corporate authority. “My God...”
“Hello, Harrison,” I said calmly, taking a seat at the head of the table without offering a handshake. “You have nine minutes. I have a client presentation at eleven.”
Harrison slowly sat back down, his eyes still fixed on my stomach. “Dominic... Dominic has been out of his mind for seven months, Emma. He’s spent over two million dollars trying to find you. His firm is in shambles. He stepped down as managing partner three months ago.”
I leaned back in my chair, resting my hands comfortably over my bump. “If you came here to offer me a financial settlement to sign final decree papers, Harrison, my position hasn't changed. I want nothing from the Moretti estate.”
“He doesn't want to give you a settlement, Emma,” Harrison said, his voice trembling slightly as he reached into his briefcase. “He found the ultrasound in your memory box five months ago.”
Silence filled the small conference room.
I didn't flinch. “I see.”
“He knows,” Harrison whispered. “He knows you were carrying his child when you walked out of the hospital that day. He’s been living in a hotel near O'Hare for three months because he can’t stand being in the Lake Forest house without you. He canceled the wedding with Vanessa.”
I raised an eyebrow slightly. “And Vanessa’s baby?”
Harrison looked down at the table, a look of grim embarrassment sweeping across his features. “Paternity tests were conducted three months ago after Vanessa gave birth prematurely. The child... the child wasn't Dominic’s. It belonged to an associate from her father’s firm in Paris.”
A small, quiet laugh escaped my lips—not out of bitterness, but out of the sheer, absurd comedy of the universe.
“So Dominic traded his wife and his child for an investor’s daughter who was using him to cover an international affair,” I said softly.
“He’s outside, Emma,” Harrison said, leaning forward pleadingly. “He flew in on a private charter two hours ago. He’s standing in the plaza across the street. He promised he wouldn't come up unless you gave permission. Please... just let him see you. Just for five minutes.”
I stood up from the conference table, walked over to the floor-to-ceiling glass window, and looked down at the bustling street twelve stories below.
Standing beside the stone fountain in the center of the plaza, soaked in the bright morning sunshine, was a tall man in a dark suit. He looked thin, stooped, his shoulders hunched as if carrying a mountain of stone. He was staring up at the glass windows of my building, holding a small brown leather case in his hand.
I looked down at him for a long moment, feeling the steady, strong heartbeat of my son moving inside me.
May you like
I turned back to Harrison.
“Tell him to go home, Harrison,” I said cleanly. “And tell him if he ever steps foot on my property or approaches my child, my legal team will file an immediate, permanent restraining order.”
