Chapter 4 - THE BABY ALREADY HAD A FATHER
The first time Luca met Evan Pierce, no one planned it.
That helped.
I was twenty-three weeks pregnant and leaving Northshore after an occupational-health appointment when I saw Evan near the main entrance carrying two paper cups.
He had flown in from Seattle the night before for a long weekend.
We were supposed to meet for lunch.
Then a black sedan stopped at the curb.
Luca stepped out.
My stomach tightened automatically.
He saw me.
Then Evan.
Then the hand Evan placed lightly at my back when a delivery cart rolled past.
Luca’s expression changed.
Not anger.
Something smaller.
Human.
Good.
I did not need him to be immune to jealousy.
I needed him not to turn jealousy into authority.
He approached.
“Emma.”
“Luca.”
Then I looked at Evan.
“This is Luca Moretti.”
Evan held out his hand.
“Evan Pierce.”
Luca shook it.
“Nice to meet you.”
Evan said:
“I’m the baby’s father.”
Straight.
I almost laughed.
Luca’s eyes flicked to me.
Then back.
“I assumed.”
No:
I know.
Good.
Then Evan said:
“We’re working out co-parenting.”
“Understood.”
That should have ended it.
Then Luca’s driver opened the rear door.
Luca said:
“I’m here for a board meeting.”
Northshore board.
Of course.
The historical review had put him everywhere.
I stiffened.
“Does the meeting involve nursing staffing?”
“No.”
Good answer.
Then:
“I’m also here to sign final donor restrictions on the maternal-welfare program.”
That was relevant.
Evan looked at me.
“What program?”
I told him later.
Not now.
Then Luca stepped away.
“Enjoy lunch.”
No invitation.
No private confrontation.
He left.
Evan watched him go.
“That’s him?”
“Yes.”
“He’s taller than I expected.”
I laughed.
Then:
“Are you into him?”
I nearly dropped my water.
“What?”
“You said no romance.”
“There isn’t.”
“That was not the question.”
Fair.
I thought.
“I don’t know.”
Evan nodded.
No possessive ex-boyfriend scene.
Good.
Then:
“I need to know whether he’s going to be around our son.”
That was fair too.
“I don’t know.”
“Okay.”
Then:
“If he is, I want boundaries.”
“So do I.”
We sat down in a diner two blocks away.
No candlelight.
No Moretti restaurant.
Evan explained he had been approved for transfer to Boston.
Not New York.
He could be on the East Coast before the birth.
Then:
“I want regular time.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not asking you to move.”
“Good.”
“I’m not asking us to get back together.”
“Also good.”
He smiled.
Then:
“I do want to be at the birth if you want me there.”
I thought.
“Yes.”
That felt right.
Then we talked names.
He liked Noah.
I did not.
Too many Noahs in stories. Maybe not relevant to user but funny internally. Let's avoid meta. In-story: too common among his cousins? Better.
I said:
“I like Samuel.”
Evan said:
“My boss is Samuel.”
Ruined.
We laughed.
No decision.
Then the Moretti scandal became louder.
Northshore’s independent review released an interim report.
BrightPath and Mercer Patient Solutions had overbilled the Maternal Care Fund.
Enzo Moretti had undisclosed financial ties to BrightPath.
Julian Mercer had undisclosed direct compensation from his brother’s company.
Thomas Reynolds had identified both.
Thomas had also made unauthorized fund transfers, including one for my mother’s treatment.
Accurate.
Then criminal investigators subpoenaed records.
Enzo issued a statement:
I never stole from pregnant women.
Technically narrow.
Priya hated it.
“People say the smallest true sentence they can stand behind.”
Then more records.
BrightPath did provide real transportation.
About seventy percent of billed rides were supported.
The fraud involved:
inflated rates,
duplicate trips,
phantom administrative charges,
and related-party profit.
Not every ride fake.
Important.
Mercer Patient Solutions was worse.
Some legitimate services.
many questionable invoices.
direct kickback evidence.
Julian Mercer’s lawyers began negotiating.
Then Enzo’s side tried a different strategy.
They released old documents showing Thomas’s $18,500 diversion.
Public.
Of course.
Headline:
DISGRACED AUDITOR USED CHARITY MONEY FOR WIFE’S CANCER CARE.
True.
Incomplete.
I nearly vomited when I saw it.
Then Luca called.
Not emailed.
I let it ring.
He called again five minutes later.
I answered.
“What?”
“I did not authorize the leak.”
“I didn’t think you did.”
That surprised him.
Then:
“Enzo’s lawyer did.”
“How do you know?”
“Metadata and press contact.”
“Then let Priya handle it.”
“Yes.”
He paused.
Then:
“I want to issue the full ledger.”
“No.”
Silence.
“Why?”
“Because that is my father’s record and patient data are involved.”
“I meant the redacted audit summary.”
“Still no until counsel agrees.”
He exhaled.
“Okay.”
That was the test.
He wanted to fight.
I said no.
He stopped.
Then Priya and Northshore released one narrow correction:
The $18,500 diversion was already included in the independent review and does not alter findings regarding vendor fraud or Thomas Reynolds’s role in identifying it.
Good.
No saint-making.
Then Evan saw the headline.
He called.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Want me to come over?”
I hesitated.
“Yes.”
He brought groceries.
Not flowers.
He fixed my broken cabinet hinge because I asked.
Then he slept on the couch.
No sex.
No romantic confusion.
The baby already had a father.
A decent one.
That mattered because every gossip outlet soon decided Luca Moretti was stepping into a role that did not belong to him.
One photo showed Luca leaving Northshore the same day I did.
Headline:
MAFIA BOSS PROTECTS PREGNANT NURSE LINKED TO FAMILY SCANDAL.
Another:
WHO IS THE FATHER?
Disgusting.
Evan’s mother saw it.
Called him crying.
That affected his life too.
Then we added a media clause to our co-parenting plan:
neither parent would discuss paternity or the child publicly without mutual agreement except required legal filings.
No third party could speak for the child.
Good.
Then Luca did something right without being asked.
His communications team issued:
Mr. Moretti has no comment on Ms. Reynolds’s pregnancy. Reporting that implies paternity or a family relationship is inaccurate.
Nothing more.
No protection language.
No romance.
Good.
I emailed:
Thank you.
He replied:
It should not have been necessary.
Then the hospital ethics review of my reassignment concluded.
Finding:
donor influence improperly affected personnel assignment.
No evidence nursing leadership intended retaliation.
The maternal-welfare program itself was valid.
Northshore prohibited donors from selecting individual staff going forward.
Sandra, my charge nurse, apologized.
“I thought I was helping.”
“I know.”
That did not make it fine.
Then:
“I should have asked.”
“Yes.”
Good.
Then I stayed on eight-hour shifts through normal occupational accommodation.
No pride.
The baby was getting heavier.
Then Luca and I met again for the historical case.
Priya present.
Naomi present.
At the end, Luca said:
“May I ask something not related to the audit?”
Priya looked at me.
I nodded.
He asked:
“Are you seeing Evan again?”
I stared.
“No.”
Then:
“That was personal.”
“Yes.”
“You’re allowed to ask once.”
His mouth moved slightly.
Then I asked:
“Why do you care?”
He thought.
“Because I’m attracted to you.”
There.
No:
destiny.
No:
mother’s letter.
“Does that change the case?”
“No.”
“Does it change the escrow?”
“No.”
“Does it change my job?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Then:
“Are you asking me out?”
“Not while I am a party to litigation involving your family.”
Good.
That answer mattered.
Then:
“After?”
“Maybe.”
I almost smiled.
Then Priya said:
“Excellent. Everyone can now return to being adults.”
We did.
Then Enzo Moretti was indicted for:
honest-services fraud? Maybe private. Better wire fraud, tax offenses, and kickback conspiracy tied to related vendors.
Julian Mercer faced similar charges plus falsified business records.
No charge for “stealing from pregnant women” as rhetoric.
Specific counts.
Antonio was not charged.
Why?
Evidence showed concealment and bad governance but not criminal participation in the vendor scheme.
Civil claims and foundation governance consequences remained.
He resigned from all foundation roles.
Then Luca.
Federal prosecutors requested documents from his current businesses.
His own case accelerated.
Naomi said publicly:
Mr. Moretti is cooperating through counsel.
I hated the phrase cooperating.
Could mean anything.
Then Luca told me at the next meeting:
“I am likely to be charged.”
My chest tightened.
“For the port businesses?”
“Yes.”
“Does it involve violence?”
“No physical violence charged.”
Careful.
Then:
“Did people fear you?”
“Yes.”
Good.
Then:
“Did you use that?”
“Yes.”
There.
No clean romance.
Then I asked the question I had avoided.
“If you go to prison, why should I date you afterward?”
Naomi nearly choked.
Luca looked at me.
“You shouldn’t because of prison.”
Then:
“You should only if you want to know me after you know what I did.”
That was the first answer that made the possibility feel real.
Not safe.
The media attention also exposed something Evan and I had not planned for.
At his office, someone recognized my name from the headlines and asked whether his “baby mama” was dating a mob boss.
He called me angry.
Not at me.
At the phrase.
“I don’t want Theo growing up as somebody else’s scandal.”
“He won’t.”
“How do you know?”
I didn’t.
So we did something practical.
Our parenting agreement added:
no monetized media appearances about Theo,
no selling photographs,
no permitting third parties to use his image in corporate philanthropy,
and no using the child to rehabilitate anyone’s public reputation.
That included me.
That included Evan.
That included Luca if he ever entered Theo’s life.
Then I asked Evan:
“Would you ever want full custody?”
He looked startled.
“Why are you asking?”
“Because I need to know what you actually imagine.”
He thought.
“No. I want shared parenting. I don’t want you erased.”
Good.
Then:
“Do you trust me?”
“With Theo?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“With men?”
He laughed.
“That is none of my business unless they affect Theo.”
Exactly.
May you like
That answer mattered more than jealousy would have.
Real.
