Chapter 5 - The Truth Hidden in My Blood
The words on the screen would not move.
I stared at them.
Roman Vale.
My husband.
My biological father.
It was absurd.
Impossible.
Horrifying.
Roman stepped back.
“No.”
His voice was unusually shaken.
“This is forged.”
Arthur looked at the file.
“Sir, the encryption is authentic.”
“That doesn't mean the content is.”
I couldn't stop staring.
“Was your father named Alexander Vale?”
Roman looked at me.
“Yes.”
“Did he have an affair with my mother?”
His face hardened.
“I don't know.”
“Then find out.”
He nodded.
That was the night our world changed.
Roman contacted the only DNA specialist he trusted.
The test would take hours.
Those hours felt like years.
I sat alone in the kitchen.
For the first time since I had known Roman, I did not want him near me.
He understood.
He stayed away.
At sunrise, the doctor arrived.
We gave samples.
Then we waited.
Arthur brought breakfast.
I couldn't eat.
Roman stood across the room.
He looked exhausted.
“I am sorry.”
“For what?”
“For every lie.”
I looked at him.
“I don't know whether you're my husband or my family.”
“You're my wife.”
“You don't know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
He swallowed.
“Nothing changes that.”
I wanted to believe him.
Then my phone rang.
Evelyn.
“Where are you?”
“Home.”
“Leave immediately.”
“Why?”
“Because Malcolm knows about the DNA test.”
My heart stopped.
“How?”
“Someone is inside Roman's security network.”
The lights went out.
Roman stood instantly.
Arthur drew his weapon.
“Stay behind me.”
A loud crash came from the hallway.
Then another.
Roman grabbed my hand.
“Basement.”
We ran.
Three men entered through the main doors.
Gunfire erupted.
Roman pushed me behind a steel wall.
Arthur returned fire.
Security officers flooded the house.
The attackers retreated.
One was captured.
Arthur dragged him downstairs.
Roman crouched beside him.
“Who sent you?”
The man laughed.
“You already know.”
Roman's eyes narrowed.
“Malcolm?”
“No.”
The man looked directly at me.
“Your father.”
My entire body froze.
“What?”
“He told us to bring you.”
Roman pulled me away.
“Don't listen to him.”
But the man smiled.
“Your father is alive.”
My breath caught.
Roman looked at Arthur.
“Find out where he came from.”
The prisoner bit down.
Arthur swore.
“He's dead.”
I stared.
“Who was he?”
“Mercenary.”
Roman's phone rang.
The DNA specialist.
The results were ready.
We went upstairs.
The doctor handed Roman the sealed envelope.
He opened it.
Read it.
Read it again.
Then handed it to me.
I could barely look.
I finally forced myself.
The test excluded Roman.
My knees almost gave out.
A second comparison was included.
Gabriel Mercer.
Probability of biological paternity: 99.99%.
My father was Gabriel.
I cried.
Not because of the result.
Because for the first time in six years, I knew the truth.
Roman knelt beside me.
“He was your father.”
I covered my face.
Roman waited.
Then I whispered:
“He didn't abandon me.”
“No.”
“He left to protect me.”
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
“And you knew.”
“Only recently.”
I stood.
“I want to find him.”
“We will.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I will.”
Roman nodded.
“Then I will stand beside you.”
Three days later, we followed a trail of financial transfers to an abandoned mining town in Pennsylvania.
A small cabin stood among the trees.
Evelyn waited outside.
“You're ready?”
I nodded.
She opened the door.
My father was inside.
He was older.
Much older than the photograph.
Gray hair.
Thin face.
One scar across his jaw.
But his eyes were the same eyes I remembered from childhood.
He stood slowly.
“Sadi.”
I couldn't move.
He stepped toward me.
Then stopped.
“I am sorry.”
I cried.
“You left me.”
“I know.”
“You let me think you were dead.”
“I had no choice.”
“You always had a choice.”
His face crumpled.
“I chose the one that kept you breathing.”
I hated him.
I loved him.
Both feelings existed at once.
He opened his arms.
I walked into them.
For a few seconds, I was fourteen again.
Then my father whispered:
“There's something you need to know.”
I stepped back.
“What?”
“Victor Dane didn't create the Red Ledger.”
My blood went cold.
“Then who did?”
He looked at Roman.
“Your grandfather.”
Roman froze.
“My grandfather?”
“Alexander Vale started it to fight organized corruption.”
Roman's face darkened.
“But it became something else.”
“Who changed it?”
“Malcolm.”
I stared.
“My uncle?”
“Your husband’s uncle.”
“Why?”
“Power.”
Gabriel walked to a locked cabinet.
He opened it.
Inside were paper files.
Photographs.
Contracts.
And one image that made me dizzy.
My mother standing beside Malcolm Vale.
Pregnant.
I stared.
“What is this?”
Gabriel's expression broke.
“Your mother was working with Malcolm.”
“Why?”
“She thought he was protecting her.”
I shook my head.
“She hated him.”
“She learned to.”
“What happened?”
“Malcolm promised her safety.”
“And then?”
“He betrayed her.”
My father handed me another photograph.
My mother holding a newborn baby.
The back contained a date.
My birth date.
I stared at the photograph.
Then I saw a second note.
Your daughter has been transferred.
I frowned.
“Transferred?”
My father looked at Roman.
“There was another child.”
Silence.
“Another child?”
“A girl.”
“Where is she?”
Gabriel pointed to the photograph.
“She disappeared the night you were born.”
My heart stopped.
“Who was she?”
May you like
He whispered:
“Your twin sister.”
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