Chapter 3
For the first time in six years, I wondered if the letter had lied to both of us.
The thought lasted until Julian placed it on my desk.
"I want a DNA test."
My uncertainty disappeared.
"Of course you do."
"Nora, someone sent you a letter in my name. Before we decide what happens next, I need one fact no one can question."
"We?"
"Ruby has two parents."
"She had one parent yesterday."
The words struck him. I saw it in his face, but I was too angry to take them back.
"I’m asking for a cheek swab," he said.
"I’m not trying to take her away."
Julian saw the fear in my expression and lowered his voice.
"The result stays private. No reporters and no public statement. Nothing happens without you knowing."
"You don’t tell Ruby this test decides whether you want her."
"That isn’t what it decides."
I studied him for a moment before agreeing.
A nurse came to the hotel that afternoon. Ruby sat beside me on the office sofa while the nurse rubbed a cotton swab inside her cheek.
"Do I need a shot?" Ruby asked.
"No shot," I said.
"It’s almost finished."
Julian waited near the window until the nurse called him forward. He sat across from Ruby and allowed her to watch while his sample was taken.
"Does this tell you if you’re my dad?" she asked.
Julian glanced at me before answering. For once, he didn’t try to control the conversation.
"It tells us if we’re related."
Ruby frowned.
"Mommy already knows."
"Yes," he said quietly.
"I’m beginning to understand that."
The results arrived two days later.
I wasn’t afraid of what they would say. I was afraid of what Julian would do once the truth belonged to him too.
He came to my office shortly before noon. I opened the report on my laptop while he stood on the other side of the desk.
One number appeared near the bottom of the page.
Probability of paternity: 99.99%.
Julian read it over my shoulder. Then he pulled out the chair and sat down as if his legs could no longer hold him.
"She’s mine."
The wonder in his voice hurt more than his anger had.
"She always was."
He looked toward the ceiling. Ruby was upstairs with Mrs. Alvarez, drawing at the small table by the window.
"What does she like?" he asked.
The question surprised me.
"What?"
"Ruby. What makes her laugh? What does she eat for breakfast? Is she afraid of the dark?"
I lowered the laptop screen.
"You’ve known she exists for two days."
"And I’ve already missed five years."
"That doesn’t mean you can rush into her life."
"I’m not asking to take her anywhere. I’m asking to know her."
His voice remained controlled, but his hand trembled against the desk.
Beneath his anger was grief.
He had lost five years he had never known were his.
Someone knocked hard on the office door.
Claire entered without waiting. Her face told me something was wrong.
She held out her phone. A picture of Julian entering the hotel filled the screen. Beside it was a photograph of Ruby taken through the lobby window.
The headline was impossible to miss.
BILLIONAIRE JULIAN CROSS CONFIRMED AS FATHER OF SECRET FIVE-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER
My stomach dropped.
"How do they know?" I asked.
"I don’t know," Claire said.
"The story went online three minutes ago."
Outside, car doors slammed and voices gathered near the entrance.
I ran into the lobby. Two employees were already closing the curtains, but I could see cameras gathering on the sidewalk.
Ruby was upstairs.
Julian came up beside me.
"I’ll have security here in ten minutes."
"I don’t want your security. I want those people away from my daughter."
"Our daughter."
"You promised the result would stay private."
"And I meant it."
Before I could answer, a black car stopped at the curb.
An older man stepped out. He had silver hair, an expensive coat, and Julian’s gray-blue eyes.
I recognized Victor Cross from business magazines. He had arrived too quickly—as if he had known the DNA result before the story went live.
The reporters moved aside for him.
Julian’s expression turned cold.
"My father."
Victor entered the hotel as if he already owned it. He ignored Julian and walked directly toward me.
Then he removed a checkbook from inside his coat.
"Ms. Bennett," he said,
"name your price."