Chapter 6 - THE DNA LIE
Mara met her daughter at 1:43 that afternoon.
Dominic carried the transport sling into the room himself.
The moment Mara saw the tiny face beneath the blanket, every defense she had built collapsed.
“Oh, God.”
Dominic approached slowly.
Elena helped transfer the baby against Mara's chest.
Mara kissed her forehead.
“Hi.”
Her voice broke.
“I'm your mom.”
Dominic looked away.
Not because he was ashamed to cry.
Because the moment belonged to them.
Mara noticed.
“Dominic.”
He looked back.
“Come here.”
He did.
For several minutes, they existed without Gideon, Celeste, blood, betrayal, or eight months of silence.
Just three people around a hospital bed.
“What do we call her?” Dominic asked.
Mara touched the baby's cheek.
“I had a name.”
“What?”
“Grace.”
Dominic smiled.
“Grace Vascari.”
Mara looked at him carefully.
“Grace Bennett.”
Her maiden name.
The smile disappeared.
“I filed for divorce.”
“We're still married.”
“That doesn't mean we're repaired.”
Dominic nodded.
“No.”
It hurt.
But he had finally learned that pain did not automatically make the other person wrong.
A hospital administrator entered with an envelope.
“This was delivered for Mr. Vascari.”
Inside was a DNA report.
Probability of paternity: 0.00%.
Dominic read it.
Mara saw his face.
“What?”
He handed it to her.
Her expression went from confusion to fury.
“That is a lie.”
Dominic said nothing.
Mara's eyes filled.
“Don't you dare.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You don't have to. I remember that face.”
“What face?”
“The one you wore every time Celeste whispered something about me and you decided silence was evidence.”
Dominic looked at Grace.
Then tore the report in half.
Mara stopped.
“I don't care.”
“What?”
“I don't care what a piece of paper says.”
He stepped toward the incubator.
“I heard her heart before I knew her name. I carried her out of a burning building. She's my daughter.”
Mara stared at him.
Dominic continued.
“And I believe you.”
Those four words accomplished what diamonds, bodyguards, and apologies could not.
Mara began crying.
Not because everything was forgiven.
Because for once, he had chosen trust before proof.
Hannah later ordered an independent DNA test.
The result came that evening.
99.9998 percent probability.
Dominic was Grace's biological father.
The forged report contained something more useful than a lie.
A laboratory code.
Marco traced it to a private genetics company owned through Gideon's shell network.
And from there, they found the money.
Not thousands.
Not millions.
Hundreds of millions.
Gideon had been preparing to sell the Vascari waterfront holdings to an international consortium the moment Dominic was removed.
Lucia read the documents.
“He used my mother's story.”
Dominic watched her.
“Yes.”
“I spent my whole life believing your family stole everything from us.”
“They did.”
Lucia looked surprised.
Dominic slid an old ownership ledger across the table.
“Your mother owned twenty percent.”
“What are you saying?”
“That it belongs to you.”
Marco stared at him.
“Dominic.”
“Not now.”
Lucia did not touch the document.
“You would give it back?”
“It was never mine.”
That sentence traveled through the room.
For generations, Vascari men had answered theft by becoming better thieves.
Dominic had just broken the rule.
Lucia sat slowly.
“Gideon said you'd kill me if you knew.”
“Gideon needed us to hate each other.”
A phone rang.
Celeste.
She had survived her wound and was under guard.
Dominic answered.
“You need to come here,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because Gideon called.”
“What did he want?”
Celeste's voice trembled.
“Mara.”
Dominic's expression changed.
“He says he has proof she wasn't the target.”
“What does that mean?”
“The crash wasn't meant to kill Mara.”
Dominic looked toward his wife.
“Who was it meant to kill?”
May you like
Celeste whispered:
“The baby.”
