I Wrapped an Abandoned Baby in My Own Coat—Then One Lion-and-Dagger Symbol Told Me Exactly Who Her Father Was.

Elena didn't reach for the parking stub. She didn't stare at it. Instead, she shifted her body slightly, blocking Lorenzo’s direct line of sight to the table while gently rocking Sofia.

Marco walked back into the living room, rubbing the back of his neck. “Evans is cleared. The private security team is sweeping the penthouse perimeter. Boss, what do you want to do about Viktor’s body in Queens?”

Lorenzo’s voice was completely steady, showing none of the suspicion Elena had just planted. “Leave it to the coroner on our payroll. Have him list it as a home invasion robbery for the morning press. I don't want the Commission asking questions until we know who pulled the trigger.”

“Understood,” Marco said, picking up his tablet from the glass table. As he scooped up the tablet, his fingers brushed against the crumpled parking stub. Without looking at it, he shoved it into his suit pocket.

Elena caught the briefest flicker of tension in his shoulders as he did it. He knew what that paper was. And he knew he had made a mistake leaving it exposed.

“Elena,” Lorenzo said, turning his full attention back to her. “Take Sofia into the bedroom down the hall. My housekeeper has fresh linens and clean clothes. You will rest. We will talk about your future when the sun is up.”

Elena nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Moretti.”

She carried Sofia down the wide corridor, entering a sprawling master guest room. A woman in a black domestic uniform was waiting, her hands folded neatly in front of her. She looked exhausted, her eyes rimmed with red.

“I’m Maria,” the woman whispered, reaching out to help lay the sleeping infant onto the king-sized bed. “God bless you, child. When they took her from the crib… I thought we would never see her alive again.”

Elena sat on the edge of the mattress, watching Maria carefully tuck the heavy duvet around Sofia. “You were here when it happened?”

Maria’s hands trembled as she smoothed the sheets. “I was in the kitchen preparing the midnight formula. The cameras went black for four minutes. Just four minutes. When I walked back into the nursery, the crib was empty, and the window to the terrace was wide open.”

“Did you see anyone?” Elena asked.

Maria hesitated, glancing nervously toward the closed bedroom door. She leaned closer to Elena, her voice dropping to a barely audible whisper. “I didn't see a face. But when the terrace door slammed shut, I saw someone run across the roof toward the service helipad.”

“Did they have a bag?”

“No,” Maria said, her breath shaking. “They were wearing a black coat with a private security badge pinned to the lapel. A double-shield badge.”

Elena’s blood ran cold.

The St. Jude Hotel did not use double-shield badges. Lorenzo’s inner circle used the lion crest.

There was only one organization in Manhattan that used a double-shield insignia: Apex Logistics, the private maritime security firm that managed the East Side shipping containers.

And the CEO of Apex Logistics was Anthony Moretti.

Marco’s claim that Anthony was trapped in Miami with bad cell service was a complete lie. Anthony wasn't in Florida. His private security team had been on the penthouse roof four hours ago.