Chapter 10: Ghosts of the Past

The morning started like any other, all carefully planned out by me. Emma's laugh filled our place as she played with her toy cars on the floor, while I looked over reports during breakfast. Our Manhattan apartment, high above the city, let me see things clearly when running my business.

But seeing clearly, I was learning, and couldn't keep old problems away.

"Mrs. Romano?" My assistant Sarah's voice came over the intercom, sounding careful, which meant bad news. "Something's happening that you need to know about."

I put down my coffee and looked at Emma, who was now setting up her dolls for a tea party. "What is it?"

"Security caught someone trying to take pictures of Emma at school. That's the third time this week."

My blood ran cold. For five years, I'd done everything to keep our privacy. Emma had guards at school, our building had top-level security, and I'd spent a lot of money to keep our lives hidden. Someone getting close enough to take pictures meant my defenses were failing.

"Where's Lucas?" I asked, standing up.

"He's on his way to school. But Mrs. Romano, the person, says they're working for Mr. Sterling."

Mikel Sterling. Just hearing his name after five years felt like a shock—pain and electricity everywhere. I'd spent five years building walls to keep that name, that man, that pain out of my life.

"Mommy?" Emma looked up from her dolls, her dark eyes like her father's, worried. "You look mad."

I tried to soften my face, kneeling down to her. "Just boring grown-up stuff, honey. Go pick out your dress for school while I make some calls, okay?"

Emma nodded and went to her room, her curls bouncing. She trusted me so much, not knowing that somewhere in the city, her father was trying to find her with a camera.

As soon as she was gone, I called my head of security on a secure line. "Marcus, what's going on?"

"It was done by a professional, Mrs. Romano. Good equipment, telephoto lenses, the works. This isn't just some photographer looking for a quick buck." Marcus Chen's voice was serious. "The person we caught knew Emma's schedule, her favorite playground, even which teacher walks her to the car."

Someone had been watching my daughter. Learning her routines, watching her every move, treating her like a target instead of a kid who should feel safe.

"How long has this been happening?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Judging by the equipment and information they had, I'd say weeks, maybe months. Whoever hired him has been waiting and watching."

Months. While I was at meetings and making deals, thinking we were safe, someone was watching my daughter. All I felt was rage—the kind that could build or destroy anything.

"I want everything," I said quietly. "Photos, equipment, bank records. I want to know who hired him, who's paying him, and how long this has been going on."

"We're on it. But Mrs. Romano, he had these too."

My phone buzzed. I opened the message and my hands started shaking.

Photos. Lots of them. Emma laughing at the playground, studying in class, holding my hand in Central Park. Every happy moment, every bit of her childhood, caught by a camera.

But the last photo made me weak. Emma sitting alone on a bench at recess, looking up at the sky with a look that no kid should have. She looked so grown up, like she was searching for something in the sky.

My phone rang. It was Lucas.

"How bad is it?" I asked right away.

"Bad enough that I'm taking Emma home myself." My brother sounded angry. "Bella, whoever's doing this has help. They have spy-level stuff, know everything, and have money."

"Sterling Industries," I said, the word sounding bitter.

"It has to be. But Bella, the guy we caught? He's not just some private investigator. He's worked for spy agencies, companies that do secret work—the kind governments use when they need something done quietly."

Mikel Sterling was using spy tactics to watch our daughter. The man who left us in a hospital was now treating Emma like an enemy to be watched.

"I'm coming home," I said, grabbing my things.

"I'll have more security at the building. But Bella, we need to think about what to do. This is more than just watching. He's planning something."

Lucas was right. Mikel Sterling wasn't spending all that money just to be curious. He was planning something—a court case, a fight for custody, or worse.

The drive home was a blur of calls and plans. By the time I got to our building, I'd called in every favor: lawyers in different countries, security experts who worked for presidents, and private spies who could take care of problems without anyone knowing.

But when I saw Emma on the couch, holding her stuffed animal tightly, looking scared, I knew that all my power meant nothing if my daughter didn't feel safe at home.

"Honey?" I sat next to her, fixing her hair. "Uncle Lucas said there was something going on at school."

Emma looked at me, her eyes too knowing for a kid. "The guy with the camera was trying to take pictures of me, right?"

I caught my breath. "What makes you say that?"

"I've seen him before. Not close, but watching me from far away. He has hair like me, and he looks sad when he watches me play." Emma sounded calm, like she was talking about the weather. "I thought maybe he was my dad, but Uncle Lucas says my dad lives far away and doesn't know where we are."

Everything shifted. "Emma, you've seen this man before?"

She nodded. "Lots of times. At the park, at school, when we go shopping. He never comes close, but he watches. Like he wants to talk to me but doesn't know how."

My smart daughter knew someone was watching her, making up stories about why a stranger was watching her with love like a father. The thought of her wondering if the man was her dad made me want to scream.

"Do you want to meet your dad?" I asked, feeling like I was about to break.

Emma's face lit up. "More than anything. Do you think if he knew where we were, he would want to meet me too?"

Before I could answer, Lucas came in with a folder, looking like things were about to get worse.

"Bella, we need to talk. Alone."

I kissed Emma and gave her her tablet and headphones before following Lucas to my office. As soon as the door closed, he put photos on my desk as evidence.

"These were with the spy we caught," he said seriously. "Bella, this isn't only about watching Emma. Sterling has been making a file on both of you."

I looked at the pictures: Emma at school, the playground, and other places, but also pictures of me leaving meetings, going to restaurants, and us together. But what scared me were the papers mixed in.

School records. Doctor stuff. Bank info about Emma's trust. Notes about how she acts. Someone had been treating my daughter like an experiment.

"He's building a custody case," I said, everything making sense. "All the watching, the notes, the money stuff—he wants custody."

Lucas nodded. "And he might win. The photos show Emma as happy, but they also show all the security, the school rules, everything we do to keep her safe. A lawyer could say she's not having a normal childhood."

The irony was awful. Everything I did to protect Emma from her father could be used against me.

"There's more," Lucas said. "The spy had recordings. Emma talks about not having a dad, asking where he is, saying she wants a 'normal' family."

My daughter's private thoughts, her questions about family, her wanting to be like other kids—all of it was being used against me.

"She's been saying her dad is a king who lives far away," Lucas said quietly. "Making up stories because she doesn't know the real story."

A king who lives far away. Emma had been making up stories to fill the space where her father should be, and now those stories were being used in a fight I thought was over.

I went to the window, looking at the city. From here, I could see the Sterling Industries building—smaller than it was five years ago, but still there. Still the man who chose his pride over his family.

"What does he want?" I asked, already knowing.

"He wants custody. Maybe shared, maybe full if he can prove you're not a good parent." Lucas was calm. "Bella, the man who hired this spy isn't just curious. He's ready for a fight."

Fight. After five years of peace, five years of making a safe place for Emma, we were going back to a war I thought we'd escaped.

My phone buzzed with a text from a number I didn't know: *She deserves to know her father. This doesn't have to be a fight.*

I looked at the screen, my hands shaking. Mikel Sterling was finally reaching out. Not through lawyers, spies, or cameras, but with a message that hit every fear I had.

Lucas read the message and cursed. "How did he get your number?"

"The same way he got everything else," I said, feeling tired. "Money, help, and five years of wanting it."

Another message: *I know I don't have the right to ask. But Emma is my daughter too.*

My daughter. Not our daughter. Not the child we made together in love and lost in betrayal. Emma was his daughter, giving him the right to mess up the life I'd made for her.