Chapter 15 - THE ENVELOPE
I opened it.
Ethan closed his eyes.
The first page contained a genetic relationship test.
Robert Bennett.
Ethan Bennett.
Probability of direct biological grandparent relationship.
Excluded.
The second page compared Ethan to a man named Jonathan Pierce.
Probability of biological fatherhood.
99.98 percent.
I looked at Ethan.
“Who is Jonathan Pierce?”
“My grandfather’s driver.”
His voice was barely audible.
Rachel continued reading.
Jonathan Pierce had died twenty years earlier.
But the scandal went deeper.
Robert Bennett had known.
Instead of disowning Ethan’s father publicly, he had turned the entire family into a private experiment.
He funded Hale’s genetic program to create what he believed would be a “verified” future heir.
“He wanted to replace his own family line.”
I whispered.
Ethan nodded.
“With yours?”
“No.”
He looked at Luka.
“With his.”
My skin crawled.
Robert Bennett had selected M-17 years earlier.
Not because Ethan randomly requested a premium donor.
Because Luka’s sample had been chosen long before Ethan even met me.
“Why Luka?”
Rachel asked.
Ethan swallowed.
“My grandfather admired the Moretti family.”
“Longevity.”
“Business success.”
“Medical history.”
“He called it superior stock.”
Luka looked like he wanted to tear Robert Bennett’s portrait from the wall.
I felt sick.
“And me?”
Ethan couldn’t look at me.
“Your father discovered the program.”
“My grandfather believed using his daughter would solve two problems.”
A chill moved through me.
“What two problems?”
“Create the heir he wanted.”
“And keep Michael silent.”
I stared at him.
“You married me because your grandfather told you to?”
“At first.”
The words hurt less now.
Maybe because there was almost nothing left to break.
“And later?”
“I loved you.”
“No.”
“You loved having me.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
Ethan began crying.
“I know.”
Suddenly a window shattered downstairs.
Luka reacted first.
“Down.”
He pulled me behind the desk.
Rachel grabbed the baby carrier.
A gunshot cracked through the hallway.
Ethan froze.
Luka drew a weapon from beneath his jacket.
I stared at him.
“You brought a gun?”
“I came to a house owned by people who murdered your father.”
Another shot.
Then shouting outside.
Police.
Luka stayed between us and the door.
A man appeared in the hallway.
Gray hair.
Expensive suit.
Caleb Shaw.
I recognized him from financial magazines.
He raised his pistol.
Ethan stepped forward.
“Caleb, stop.”
Shaw smiled.
“You were always the weak link.”
Then he pointed the gun toward me.
“You should have left Michael Carter’s daughter alone.”
Ethan moved before anyone else.
May you like
He stepped directly between us.
The gun fired.
