Chapter 5 - The Test That Never Happened
Dominic stared at the document.
"I never authorized this."
Eliza looked at the screen.
"That's your signature."
"I know what my signature looks like."
The report contained a request for prenatal genetic testing, supposedly submitted through his physician's office.
The patient name was Eliza Rourke.
The listed father was Dominic Rourke.
But the signature at the bottom was unmistakable.
Or nearly unmistakable.
Griffin leaned closer.
"Someone copied it."
Dominic looked at him.
"Find out who."
Eliza's voice was quiet.
"Why would anyone order a paternity test?"
"To create doubt," Paige answered. "To make Dominic question the baby."
Dominic looked at Eliza.
"I never questioned you."
"You don't have to say that now."
"I'm telling you the truth."
She shook her head.
"Your mistress just accused me of cheating, and you brought the accusation into my sister's home. Forgive me if I don't immediately feel reassured."
Dominic looked as if he wanted to argue.
Instead, he put his phone away.
"I'll prove the document is fake."
"You can do whatever you want."
"Eliza, this affects our child."
"Our child?"
He flinched.
She had not said your child.
She had said our child.
It was a small distinction.
But it was more than he deserved.
Griffin received a call and stepped into the hallway.
When he returned, his expression was grave.
"Sir, we found Margaret."
Eliza stood.
"Where?"
"Her car was abandoned near the river."
"Was she inside?"
"No."
Dominic immediately took out his phone.
"Get every available team searching the area."
Eliza grabbed her coat.
"I'm coming."
"No."
Dominic's answer came too quickly.
She looked at him.
"Excuse me?"
"It's dangerous."
"Margaret disappeared because she was helping me."
"And that's exactly why you're staying here."
"You don't get to decide that."
Dominic took a breath.
"Eliza, please."
The word sounded unfamiliar coming from him.
She looked at him for several seconds.
Then she said, "I will stay here if Paige comes with me and your men don't treat us like prisoners."
Dominic nodded.
"Agreed."
They found Margaret's handbag in the back seat of her car.
Her phone was broken.
There were signs of a struggle, but no blood.
A security camera from a nearby parking garage showed a black sedan pulling alongside her vehicle.
Two men got out.
One wore a baseball cap.
The other had a distinctive tattoo behind his right ear.
Griffin recognized him.
"That's Peter Vale."
Dominic's expression darkened.
Peter Vale had once been a trusted Blackridge accountant. Three years earlier, he had disappeared after being accused of stealing nearly two million dollars.
Dominic had assumed he fled the country.
"Find him," Dominic ordered.
Meanwhile, Eliza sat inside the SUV, watching rain run down the window.
She kept thinking about Evelyn's letter.
The child must be protected from the people who want Blackridge.
She had never wanted Blackridge.
She had wanted a husband who came home for dinner.
A man who remembered her birthday without needing an assistant to remind him.
A man who would sit beside her at an ultrasound appointment and look at their child as though nothing else in the world mattered.
Instead, she had become an inconvenient detail in a war over money and power.
Paige reached across the seat.
"Are you okay?"
"No."
"Good. At least you're being honest."
Eliza managed a weak smile.
Then Griffin's phone rang.
He listened for several seconds.
His face changed.
"Sir, we found Peter Vale."
"Where?"
"At the old Rourke warehouse."
Dominic immediately gave instructions to his men.
Within thirty minutes, they reached the abandoned building.
Peter was sitting at a metal desk inside the main office.
He looked older than the photograph.
His hair was gray, and his face was covered in stubble.
When Dominic entered, Peter smiled.
"Still sending other people to do your dirty work?"
Dominic approached.
"Where's Margaret?"
Peter looked at Eliza.
Then at her stomach.
"Congratulations."
Dominic grabbed the front of his shirt.
"Where is she?"
Peter laughed.
"You're asking the wrong question."
He reached into his coat and removed a small envelope.
"I've been waiting three years to give you this."
Dominic took it.
Inside was a photograph of Evelyn Rourke.
She was sitting in her bedroom, looking directly at the camera.
On the back was a date.
Three days before she died.
And beneath the date, in her handwriting, were six words:
Dominic, don't trust the woman you love.
Eliza read the sentence over his shoulder.
Dominic's eyes moved toward her.
For the first time since their marriage began falling apart, she saw genuine fear in his face.
Then Peter spoke.
"Your grandmother didn't die naturally, Dominic."
He leaned back.
"She was murdered by someone who had access to her medication."
Dominic tightened his grip on the photograph.
"Who?"
Peter smiled.
May you like
"Your mother."
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