Chapter 3 - The Night Nurse’s Secret
The roaring fire of the incinerator suddenly felt entirely devoid of warmth.
I stared at the hospital visitor log.
Vanessa Bellini. 11:42 PM.
“She told me she was in Paris,” Luca whispered, taking the paper back from my trembling hands. “When Sophie took her final turn… I was sitting in the hallway talking to the doctors. Vanessa called my cell phone. She said she was boarding a flight from France to be with me.”
“She lied,” I said softly. “She was already at the hospital.”
But why? Why would a woman sneak into a dying five-year-old’s room in the middle of the night, only to pretend she was on another continent?
“She didn't hurt her,” Luca muttered, running a shaking hand through his wet hair. “The doctors said it was a sudden respiratory failure. It was complications from the leukemia. Vanessa couldn't have…”
He stopped. The denial in his voice was breaking. He was a mafia boss. He knew exactly what people were capable of when they wanted something.
“We need to talk to the nurse who was on duty that night,” I said, my protective instincts overriding my place as an employee.
Luca looked at me, a sudden, fierce clarity returning to his dark eyes.
“Daniel!” Luca barked into his cell phone.
“Yes, Boss.”
“Find the name and current address of the pediatric night nurse who was on rotation at Saint Jude’s the night Sophie died. I want it in five minutes.”
He hung up.
Luca stood up, offering me his hand. He pulled me to my feet, his eyes lingering on my reddened knuckles.
“I’m taking you to a doctor,” he said.
“No,” I refused firmly. “It’s a minor burn, Mr. Moretti. Put some ice on it, and it will be fine. We need to find that nurse.”
He studied my face for a long second. The fierce, unyielding loyalty of a twenty-seven-year-old maid who had nothing to gain from this was clearly throwing him off balance.
“My name is Luca,” he said quietly.
Thirty minutes later, we were in Luca’s black armored SUV, speeding through the torrential rain toward the industrial side of the city.
Daniel had found the nurse. Her name was Helen Davies. She no longer worked at the hospital. She had quit exactly one week after Sophie died and moved to a run-down apartment complex in the South Ward.
Luca drove with terrifying precision. We didn't speak. The silence in the car was heavy with the weight of a ghost.
We pulled up to a bleak, brick apartment building. The streetlights flickered, casting long, menacing shadows across the wet pavement.
Luca didn't bother knocking when we reached apartment 4B.
He kicked the cheap wooden door perfectly at the lock mechanism. It splintered inward with a loud crash.
A woman in her fifties screamed from the small kitchen, dropping a tea mug that shattered on the linoleum.
“Helen Davies,” Luca said, stepping into the dim apartment.
Helen backed up against the counter, her face turning chalk-white. She recognized him instantly. Everyone in the city recognized Luca Moretti.
“Mr. Moretti,” Helen stammered, raising her hands defensively. “I… I don't know what you want.”
“I want to know what happened at 11:42 PM on the night my daughter died,” Luca said, his voice dangerously calm.
Helen flinched as if she had been struck. She looked toward the open doorway, checking for an escape route, but I stepped in and closed the broken door behind me.
“I didn't hurt her!” Helen cried, bursting into terrified tears. “I swear on my life, Mr. Moretti. I loved that little girl. I would never hurt her!”
A reversal.
I looked at Luca. The sheer terror in the woman’s eyes was genuine. She hadn't harmed Sophie.
“Then why did Vanessa Bellini sneak into her room?” Luca demanded, closing the distance between them.
Helen sank to her knees on the linoleum, sobbing into her hands.
“She didn't come to hurt Sophie,” Helen wept. “She came to stop Caroline.”
Luca froze. “My ex-wife?”
“Caroline was on her way,” Helen confessed, looking up with red, swollen eyes. “She had called the nurse’s station. She was stuck in a storm an hour away, but she was driving frantically. She begged me to keep Sophie awake until she got there.”
My chest tightened. Caroline had tried to make it.
“But Vanessa arrived first,” Helen continued, her voice trembling. “She walked into the room. She looked at Sophie sleeping. And then she looked at me.”
“What did she say?” I asked softly.
“She said that if Caroline made it to the hospital in time, you and Caroline would bond over the grief. You would comfort each other. And Vanessa would lose you.”
Helen swallowed hard.
“She paid me to turn off Caroline’s phone number in the hospital’s routing system so she couldn't call for updates. And she paid me to lie to Caroline when she arrived.”
“What lie?” Luca whispered.
“I met Caroline in the lobby at 11:55 PM,” Helen sobbed. “I told her that you had explicitly banned her from the floor. I told her that you blamed her for Sophie getting sick, and that if she came upstairs, your security would arrest her.”
Luca stumbled back a step.
Caroline hadn't abandoned Sophie in her final moments. She had been turned away in the lobby, believing Luca hated her so much he wouldn't let her say goodbye.
And Luca had spent three years believing Caroline simply didn't care enough to show up.
Vanessa had orchestrated the ultimate betrayal just to ensure she remained the only woman in Luca’s life.
“I’m sorry,” Helen cried. “I was broke. My husband had gambling debts. Vanessa gave me something to pay them off. I didn't know Sophie was going to pass twenty minutes later. I didn't know!”
“What did she give you?” Luca asked, his voice hollow, completely broken by the revelation.
Helen stood up shakily. She walked to a small wooden drawer in her kitchen and pulled out a tarnished velvet pouch.
She handed it to Luca.
“She gave me this. She said it was worth twenty thousand dollars.”
Luca opened the pouch and tipped it into his large palm.
A heavy, intricate silver bracelet fell out. It was studded with vintage diamonds.
Luca stared at the jewelry.
I saw the exact moment his heartbreak turned into absolute, apocalyptic fury.
“Answer one,” I thought again. Helen had been bribed.
“Open two.” Where did the bracelet come from?
“Luca?” I asked gently. “What is it?”
May you like
Luca looked at me, his eyes black with rage.
“This is my mother’s bracelet,” Luca whispered. “It was stolen from her bedroom safe five years ago.”
