Chapter 8 - THE FIRST BENNETT LIE
Mason called me twelve times that night.
I didn't answer.
On the thirteenth call, Luka took my phone.
He didn't answer either.
He simply turned it face down.
"What happens if Mason finds out?"
I asked.
Luka's voice was quiet.
"He already knows we're close."
"Does he know about the storage unit?"
"Probably not yet."
Yet.
That word stayed with me.
Noah began verifying the ledger.
Case One described a fertility procedure involving Harrison Bennett's wife, Evelyn, almost thirty years earlier.
According to official history, Mason had been conceived naturally after years of difficulty.
According to M-17, that story was false.
An unauthorized donor sample had been substituted.
A paternity report had then been altered.
Harrison had raised Mason as his biological son.
Maybe unknowingly.
Maybe not.
No one could tell.
But there was something even stranger.
The authorization signature belonged to Dr. Samuel Cross.
Selena's father.
Everything led back to her family.
Selena wasn't merely Mason's mistress.
She was the daughter of the man who had helped manufacture Mason's identity.
The next morning, I finally left the hospital.
I expected reporters.
I expected lawyers.
I expected Mason.
Instead, Luka stood beside a black SUV holding my daughter's carrier as though it contained something sacred.
"You don't have to do that."
"I know."
He adjusted the handle carefully.
"I want to."
That answer stayed with me.
My mother's house wasn't safe.
My marital home definitely wasn't safe.
So Noah arranged a furnished apartment owned by his firm.
Luka took the room across the hall.
Not inside.
Across the hall.
He gave me space without disappearing.
That first night, my daughter cried until two in the morning.
I cried with her.
I was exhausted.
Sore.
Angry.
Terrified.
Then someone knocked softly.
Luka stood outside holding two coffees.
"I guessed."
I looked at the cups.
"At two in the morning?"
"I haven't slept."
"Why?"
His eyes moved toward the baby.
"Because I spent thirty-one years assuming nobody would ever call me Dad."
The words hit me unexpectedly.
I let him inside.
He sat three feet away.
No touching.
No claiming.
No pressure.
Just presence.
For twenty minutes, neither of us discussed M-17.
We talked about diapers.
Formula backup.
Her tiny fingers.
The strange little noises she made while sleeping.
Then Luka's phone rang.
Noah.
He had found the identity of the unauthorized donor used in Mason's conception.
The donor was dead.
But he had one surviving biological son.
Which meant Mason had a half-brother.
And that half-brother had recently been hired by Bennett Capital.
I asked his name.
Noah answered.
May you like
"Caleb Cross."
Selena's older brother.
