Chapter 3 - The DNA Test
Adrian's penthouse didn't look like a criminal fortress.
That made it more intimidating.
No gold statues. No ridiculous displays of wealth.
Just glass, stone, dark wood, and security everywhere.
A private medical team arrived within an hour.
I chose an independent genetics laboratory.
Adrian chose another.
We sent identical samples to both.
“Two tests?” Evan asked.
Adrian nodded.
“Redundancy.”
Evan looked at me.
“He likes that word.”
“I noticed.”
The boy sat between us while the nurse collected his cheek swab.
When she finished, Evan jumped down.
“Can I go play?”
Adrian nodded.
“Stay upstairs.”
“Okay.”
Evan stopped beside me.
“Will you still be here when I come back?”
My throat tightened.
“Yes.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
He disappeared upstairs.
The moment he was gone, Adrian turned toward me.
“Richard Vale disappeared six years ago.”
“I haven't spoken to him in seven.”
“He knew where you were.”
“How?”
“He's been monitoring Meridian.”
I stared at him.
Adrian slid a folder across the table.
Inside were photographs.
Me leaving headquarters.
Me entering my apartment.
Me at conferences.
Some went back years.
“He was watching me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“We're finding out.”
I looked through the photographs.
One showed me standing outside a cemetery.
The date was Evan's birthday.
Every year, I went there despite there being no grave.
I had needed somewhere to mourn.
Adrian noticed the photograph.
“You went there every year?”
“Yes.”
His expression changed.
“You believed your son was dead?”
I looked at him.
“Richard told me the adoptive family died in a house fire when my baby was eleven months old.”
Adrian went still.
Eleven months.
The same age Evan had been when Sophia died.
“He used Sophia's death,” Adrian said.
“To make me believe Evan was dead.”
“Yes.”
I sat down.
“Why?”
Adrian's phone rang.
Marcus.
Adrian answered.
“Talk.”
He listened.
Then his expression hardened.
“Bring him in.”
“Who?”
He ended the call.
“Someone who worked for Vale.”
Twenty minutes later, two security men escorted an older man into the room.
His name was Martin Cole.
He looked terrified.
Adrian remained seated.
“Tell Ms. Carter what you told Marcus.”
Martin looked at me.
“Richard Vale wasn't your boyfriend by accident.”
I felt sick.
“What?”
“He targeted you because of your research.”
“My robotics work?”
“Yes.”
Adrian leaned forward.
“Continue.”
“Vale was selling medical technology overseas. Proprietary designs. Research. Patents before they were filed.”
I understood immediately.
“He wanted access to my work.”
Martin nodded.
“When you became pregnant, you started pulling away from him.”
“So he took my son?”
“He needed leverage.”
Adrian's voice became dangerously quiet.
“Then why abandon the child?”
“He didn't.”
We both stared at Martin.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“He intended to retrieve the baby.”
Adrian stood.
“But Sophia found him first.”
Martin nodded.
“Vale panicked. Then Sophia died.”
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
“You said that like the two events are connected.”
Martin went pale.
“I don't know.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“Wrong answer.”
“I swear.”
“Was Sophia's accident really an accident?”
Martin looked toward the door.
Nobody moved.
Finally he whispered.
“No.”
Adrian's face changed.
For seven years, he had believed his sister died because a truck ran a red light.
Now he knew better.
I stood.
“Richard killed her?”
Martin nodded.
“He wanted the baby back. Sophia discovered the adoption papers were fake. She threatened to go to the police.”
Adrian's voice dropped.
“And Vale killed her.”
“Yes.”
A small sound came from the staircase.
We turned.
Evan stood halfway down.
He had heard everything.
Adrian moved immediately.
“Evan.”
“My Aunt Sophia was murdered?”
“Come here.”
Evan backed away.
“You told me it was an accident.”
“You were too young.”
“You lied.”
“I protected you.”
“That's what adults always say when they lie.”
Then he ran upstairs.
Adrian started after him.
I caught his arm.
He looked down at my hand.
Every survival instinct told me to release him.
I didn't.
“Give him thirty seconds.”
“He's my son.”
“And maybe mine.”
Adrian's jaw tightened.
Then his phone rang.
The laboratory.
He answered.
Listened.
Looked at me.
I already knew.
Adrian slowly lowered the phone.
“Well?”
His voice was quieter than I had ever heard it.
“99.998 percent.”
I closed my eyes.
Seven years of grief shattered in one second.
Evan was alive.
My son was alive.
Then a security alarm sounded.
Marcus rushed into the room.
“Sir, Evan's room is empty.”
Adrian's face went white.
“What?”
“The service balcony door is open.”
I ran upstairs.
On Evan's bed lay the silver crescent necklace.
Beside it was a note.
Adrian picked it up.
May you like
Three words were written across the page.
Bring Emily alone.
