Chapter 8 - The Second DNA Test
Daniel laughed when Julian told him.
Not because it was funny.
Because sometimes disbelief sounds like laughter.
“Of course.”
He paced the library.
“Why wouldn’t there be another secret?”
Julian stood near the fireplace.
Victoria had been taken into federal custody with Anthony.
The ledger was being examined.
Patrick had agreed to testify.
For the first time, the mystery should have been ending.
Instead, one sentence reopened everything.
Ask Daniel who his real father is.
“DNA test,” Martin said.
Daniel stopped pacing.
“You want one?”
Julian answered carefully.
“I want whatever you want.”
Daniel stared at him.
“That sounds diplomatic.”
“I’m trying not to make another decision for you.”
The words landed.
Daniel looked away.
Then nodded.
“Do it.”
---
The test was expedited.
Julian had connections.
Apparently money could not purchase twenty-three lost years, but it could purchase laboratory results in forty-eight hours.
Those two days felt longer than the previous week.
I tried to return to normal work.
Impossible.
Corsini House now contained federal investigators during daylight hours and lawyers after sunset.
Half the staff knew something enormous had happened.
Nobody knew exactly what.
Julian spent hours giving statements.
Daniel disappeared on long walks.
Martin visited Patrick twice.
I found myself avoiding Julian.
That confused me.
Maybe because everything between us had shifted.
He had offered to eliminate my debt.
He had tried to protect me.
He had looked genuinely terrified when my name appeared in that threat.
Those things were harder to laugh away than hidden-camera dancing.
On the second evening, I was cleaning the drawing room when Julian entered.
“You’re avoiding me.”
“I’m working.”
“You cleaned that table yesterday.”
“It’s very dusty.”
“It’s marble.”
“Marble collects emotional dust.”
He stared at me.
“That may be the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”
I laughed despite myself.
Julian came closer.
“Are you frightened of me?”
“No.”
“Of what happened?”
“A little.”
“Then why avoid me?”
I looked at the wooden spoon still sitting near the kitchen doorway.
Because I like you.
The thought arrived too clearly.
I swallowed.
“Because my life is complicated.”
“So is mine.”
“That isn’t reassuring.”
He smiled.
Then became serious.
“Sadie.”
“Yes?”
“When this is over, I don’t want you to leave.”
My heart accelerated.
“As your housekeeper?”
He held my gaze.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“You.”
No joke came.
For once, I had absolutely nothing clever to say.
Julian stepped closer.
Slowly.
Giving me time to move.
I didn’t.
His hand brushed a loose curl beside my cheek.
Barely touched.
Then Daniel’s voice came from the doorway.
“Oh, good. Horrible timing. My specialty.”
We jumped apart.
Daniel held an envelope.
“The results.”
---
Julian opened them.
Nobody breathed.
He read once.
Then again.
Daniel stared.
“Well?”
Julian looked up.
“99.99 percent.”
Daniel didn’t move.
Julian’s voice softened.
“You’re my son.”
Daniel sat down.
The relief on his face was immediate.
So was grief.
He rubbed both hands over his eyes.
“I didn’t realize how much I wanted that.”
Julian remained where he stood.
He seemed afraid to approach.
Daniel noticed.
“Are you going to stand there?”
Julian swallowed.
“I don’t know what you want.”
Daniel looked at him for a long moment.
Then said:
“I think a hug would be normal.”
Julian crossed the room.
It was awkward.
Careful.
Then Daniel wrapped both arms around him.
Julian closed his eyes.
I turned away because the moment belonged to them.
Martin pretended to examine the fireplace.
Nobody fooled anyone.
Twenty-three years couldn’t be repaired in one embrace.
But something began.
---
Later, Daniel found another page hidden inside Elena’s documents.
A letter addressed to him.
He read it alone first.
Then brought it to Julian.
Mom had written:
Daniel, if you ever meet your father, don’t punish him for believing a lie I believed too. We were both young. We were both manipulated. The difference is I had you, and he had an empty house.
Julian couldn’t finish reading.
Daniel did.
If he kept the record, then some part of him kept me too.
Julian looked toward the drawing room.
The vinyl.
The clue.
The thing he had refused to throw away for twenty-three years.
That night, father and son talked until sunrise.
No lawyers.
No security.
No secrets.
I went to bed smiling.
---
The federal investigation expanded.
The ledger contained names connected to old bribery networks, fraud, intimidation, and financial crimes.
Many entries were too old to prosecute.
Others weren’t.
The Corsini businesses themselves were investigated.
Julian cooperated fully.
That surprised outsiders.
It didn’t surprise me anymore.
Three weeks passed.
Then I received a letter.
Halcyon Recovery.
My debt had been cleared.
Balance:
$0.
I stormed into Julian’s office.
He looked up.
“What?”
I threw the letter onto his desk.
“You did this.”
He read it.
His face changed.
“No.”
“Julian.”
“I didn’t.”
“Who else knows?”
“Martin.”
Martin was summoned.
He denied it.
Daniel denied it.
I called Halcyon.
After thirty minutes and four transfers, someone finally explained.
The debt had been purchased by a private trust.
Not forgiven by Julian.
The trust had paid it.
“What trust?” I asked.
The representative told me.
The Elena Marchetti Foundation.
I sat down.
Julian stared.
“That foundation doesn’t exist.”
“It does now.”
Daniel entered carrying another envelope.
“I know.”
He placed it on the desk.
“My mother established instructions in her will.”
Elena had left a small life insurance policy.
Not enough to create a large foundation.
But when federal investigators recovered assets improperly taken by Vincent decades earlier, part legally belonged to Daniel.
Daniel had used some of it to establish the foundation.
I stared at him.
“You paid my debt?”
“No.”
“Daniel.”
“I reimbursed a victim.”
“What victim?”
“You.”
I frowned.
He explained.
“Anthony’s company deliberately manipulated your loan terms to push you toward this job. Lawyers proved it.”
My anger faded.
The debt had been used to control me.
Clearing it wasn’t charity.
It was restitution.
Daniel smiled.
“Mom would approve.”
I looked at Julian.
He looked strangely proud.
Then Martin entered.
His face was serious.
“We have a problem.”
Julian sighed.
“Of course we do.”
Martin placed a folder on the desk.
“Federal investigators found one name in the ledger repeated more than any other.”
“Who?”
Martin looked at me.
My stomach tightened.
Then he said:
May you like
“Sadie Quinn’s father.”
---
