Chapter 9 - The Name on the Wrong Branch

Adrian sat down on the hallway bench as if his legs had stopped working.

Mia had never seen him physically defeated.

“Say it again,” he said.

Matteo looked uncomfortable.

“The DNA sample marked S.C. shares a parent-child relationship with you. If the labeling is accurate, Salvatore Castellano is your biological father.”

Adrian laughed once, empty.

“My father was Luca Castellano.”

“Legally,” Matteo said.

Adrian stood so quickly the bench struck the wall.

“Do not do that.”

“Do what?”

“Turn my life into a report.”

Mia stepped closer.

“Adrian.”

He looked at her, and she saw a twelve-year-old boy buried under the suit.

“I built everything around my father,” he said. “His rules. His mistakes. His death.”

“DNA doesn’t erase who raised you.”

“No. It just changes why everyone lied.”

They needed confirmation. Keene agreed to release the archived report through attorneys and law enforcement because one sample had apparently been collected from an infant without consent.

The next morning, Mia sat across from Adrian at breakfast.

“You should eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Ronan pointed his spoon. “Mommy says tummies get angry if empty.”

Adrian looked at him.

“Does she?”

“All the time.”

Mia muttered, “Traitor.”

Ronan grinned.

Adrian ate toast.

It was absurdly domestic, which made the danger outside feel more unreal.

Then Salvatore called again.

This time Adrian put him on speaker.

“You went to see Evelyn,” Salvatore said.

Adrian’s eyes sharpened.

“How do you know?”

“I know everything worth knowing.”

Mia mouthed, Keep him talking.

Adrian said, “Then tell me why she thinks you wanted my child.”

Silence.

Salvatore’s voice came back softer.

“So she told you.”

“Told me what?”

“Enough, apparently.”

“Are you my father?”

Mia closed her eyes. Subtlety had officially died.

Salvatore did not answer for several seconds.

Then he said, “Luca was your father in every way that mattered.”

Adrian gripped the phone.

“That was not my question.”

“No. I am.”

The room seemed to contract.

Mia watched Adrian absorb it without blinking.

“Did Luca know?”

“Yes.”

“Did my mother?”

A bitter laugh. “Adrian, your mother was there.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means families are rarely built as cleanly as children are told.”

“Did you order surveillance on Mia?”

“Yes.”

Mia’s breath caught.

“Why?” Adrian demanded.

“To protect what was mine.”

Mia stepped closer to the phone.

“I’m not yours.”

Salvatore went silent.

“Mia,” he said finally. “You have no idea what I prevented.”

“Then explain it.”

“I prevented Luca’s old loyalists from learning Adrian had an heir.”

Adrian’s face hardened. “By spying on her?”

“By making sure I knew before they did.”

“You photographed her in a hospital.”

“No.”

“Your people did.”

“Not that photograph.”

Mia looked at Adrian.

Salvatore continued, “Evelyn became unstable. Elena tried to manage the situation. Then someone else entered the game.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

Adrian laughed bitterly. “Convenient.”

“I know what I know. The person who sent the photograph to you now is not mine.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because if I wanted those children harmed, you would not be having this conversation.”

The line went dead.

Mia felt sick.

“He thinks that sounds reassuring.”

“For Salvatore, it is.”

Matteo entered holding a thin envelope.

“This came from the lab courier.”

Inside was the official DNA report.

The result confirmed everything.

Adrian was Ronan’s father.

Salvatore was Adrian’s father.

But attached to the report was a handwritten notation from Elena Vale.

A second infant exists. Female. No sample obtained. Do not attempt. Mother frightened. Risk unacceptable.

Mia touched the note.

“She protected Wren.”

Matteo nodded.

“And there’s something else.”

He turned the page.

At the bottom, Elena had written one name.

Luca Castellano.

Then four words.

He knew she survived.

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\nAfter the call with Salvatore, Adrian went outside alone. Mia gave him ten minutes before following.\n\nHe stood by the lake with his hands in his coat pockets.\n\n“Did you ever suspect?” she asked.\n\n“No.”\n\n“Not even once?”\n\n“Salvatore treated me like an investment. Luca treated me like a son.”\n\nMia stood beside him. “Maybe that is the answer.”\n\n“To what?”\n\n“To which one was your father.”\n\nHis throat moved.\n\n“Blood matters,” she added. “But it doesn’t get the final vote.”\n\nHe looked back toward the house where the twins slept.\n\n“I would like the chance to prove that.”\n\nMia did not promise him anything.\n\n“You have the chance,” she said. “What you do with it is yours.”\n\nIt was more than she had planned to give him.\n

Ronan woke crying from a nightmare before sunrise. Adrian reached the hallway at the same time as Mia, then stopped and let her enter first. She noticed the pause. Small choices were becoming the only evidence she trusted.