Chapter 11: The Man Who Stole Me

Lena couldn’t move.

The phone trembled in her hand as Damian stared at the message on its screen.

Richard Carter didn’t save you, Lena. He stole you.

For the first time, the man standing before her seemed to have lost control of his emotions.

His face had gone pale.

“Who sent that?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Did you reply?”

“Yes.”

“What did you say?”

Lena pulled the phone away from him.

“Why does that matter? You look like you already know what it means.”

Damian’s eyes lifted to hers.

“Lena—”

“Don’t.” Her voice cracked. “Not another secret. Not another half-truth. I want to know what you know about Richard Carter.”

He closed the door behind him.

“I found something in my father’s records several years ago.”

Lena’s heart pounded.

“What?”

“A document with Richard Carter’s name on it. It was connected to a private arrangement between my father and Isabella Romano.”

“An arrangement?”

“I never understood the full details. The document was incomplete.”

“And you knew Richard was connected to my biological family?”

“I knew there was a connection. I didn’t know you were the child involved.”

Lena let out a bitter laugh.

“You expect me to believe that?”

“No.” Damian’s voice was quiet. “I expect you to be angry.”

She turned away, pressing her hand against her forehead.

Her entire life was unraveling.

First, she had discovered she was Elena Romano’s twin.

Then she had learned that Isabella Romano might still be alive.

Now a stranger was telling her that the man who raised her had stolen her.

And Damian—the man who had brought her into this family—had known there was a connection.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered.

“Because I didn’t have the truth.”

“You had enough to suspect!”

“Yes.”

His admission cut deeper than a denial would have.

Lena turned back to him.

“Did Richard Carter take me from my mother?”

Damian held her gaze.

“I don’t know.”

“Did he take me from Isabella without her permission?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then what do you know, Damian?”

He hesitated.

“I know my father was involved in something he never wanted me to discover.”

Lena’s eyes filled with tears, but she refused to let them fall.

“And you’re just like him.”

The words struck Damian.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he stepped back.

“If that’s what you believe, I won’t stop you.”

Lena looked at him, startled.

“But I will tell you this,” he continued. “Whatever Richard Carter did, you were a child. None of this was your fault.”

She looked down at the phone.

The words should have comforted her.

Instead, they made her feel even more lost.

Elena arrived at Lena’s room a few minutes later.

“What happened?”

Lena handed her the phone.

Elena read the messages, her expression changing with every line.

“Richard stole you?”

“I don’t know if it’s true.”

Elena looked at Damian.

“Did you know?”

“I knew Richard had a connection to my father and Isabella. I didn’t know the details.”

Elena’s eyes hardened.

“You keep saying you don’t know.”

“Because I won’t invent an answer just to satisfy you.”

“That’s convenient.”

“Believe me or don’t. But I won’t lie to either of you.”

Elena turned back to Lena.

“We’re going to find our mother.”

Lena nodded.

“Yes.”

“And we’re going to find out what Richard did.”

“Yes.”

Elena took her sister’s hand.

“Together.”

For the first time, Lena didn’t feel completely alone.

But Damian’s silence remained between them.

Later that night, Damian stood in his father’s old study.

The room had remained untouched for years.

The dark wooden shelves still held Gabriel Romano’s books. His desk was covered with old documents Damian had never fully examined.

He opened a locked drawer.

Inside was a folder marked:

ISABELLA ROMANO — PRIVATE

Damian had seen it before.

But he had never opened it.

Tonight, he did.

The first page contained a photograph of Isabella.

The second was a handwritten letter.

Damian unfolded it carefully.

Gabriel,

I cannot allow them to separate my daughters.

If Richard insists on taking Lena, then he must understand that this decision will haunt all of us.

I am trusting you to protect Elena.

Please do not let Vincent discover what we have agreed to.

Damian stopped reading.

His fingers tightened around the paper.

A decision.

An agreement.

Not a simple kidnapping.

Not necessarily.

He turned the page.

There was another letter, dated several months later.

Gabriel,

The arrangement has failed.

Richard has disappeared, and I have no way of reaching Lena.

If anything happens to me, tell my daughters the truth.

Damian’s chest tightened.

Richard had disappeared?

He had always believed Richard Carter had died years ago.

But the letter suggested something different.

A knock interrupted him.

“Sir?”

Damian looked up.

His assistant, Mr. Bennett, stood in the doorway.

“What is it?”

“Someone has been asking questions about the old Romano property.”

Damian closed the folder.

“Who?”

Bennett hesitated.

“A woman.”

“Name?”

“She gave the name Isabella Romano.”

Damian went completely still.

His mother.

The woman he had believed dead.

The woman whose name had appeared in Lena and Elena’s birth records.

“Where is she now?”

Bennett lowered his voice.

“She left before we could confirm her identity.”

Damian stood.

“Find her.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Bennett?”

The assistant paused.

“Do not tell Vincent.”

Across the city, a woman sat in a dimly lit room.

Her hands trembled as she stared at an old photograph.

Two newborn girls lay beside her.

One wore a pink blanket.

The other wore white.

She touched the photograph gently.

“My daughters,” she whispered.

A phone rang.

She answered immediately.

“Did they receive the message?”

“Yes.”

“Both of them?”

“Only Elena has seen it so far.”

The woman closed her eyes.

“And Damian?”

“He knows about the property.”

A long silence followed.

Then the woman spoke.

“Then we have less time than I thought.”

“Should I bring them to you?”

“No.”

Her voice sharpened.

“Not yet. Vincent must not find out that I’m alive.”

She ended the call and looked at the photograph again.

Tears slipped down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Lena.”

Her fingers moved to the face of the baby in the white blanket.

“I never stopped looking for you.”

A shadow appeared in the doorway.

The woman froze.

A man stepped into the room.

Vincent Romano.

He looked at the photograph in her hands.

Then he smiled.

“Isabella.”

The woman slowly stood.

“Vincent.”

His smile widened.

“I was beginning to think you would never come back.”

She clutched the photograph against her chest.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh, I think I should.” He stepped closer. “After all, your daughters are finally discovering the truth.”

Isabella’s face drained of color.

“What have you done?”

Vincent tilted his head.

“Nothing yet.”

He glanced at the photograph.

“But soon, my dear sister-in-law…”

His smile turned cold.

“…they’ll wish they had never found you.”