Page 166 of Ruthless Claim

I take a breath. “Her timeline doesn’t work. She claims we were together for eight weeks, but I was only in Belfast for six. Her background check came back with no history before three years ago. Finn has no records. She keeps bringing up money in ways that feel contrived. And Emma showed up at the park yesterday and pointed out that Finn doesn’t look anything like a Brennan—and she’s right. The genes aren’t there.”

I pause, getting to the hardest part. “And you were right. About all of it. I was being willfully blind because I wanted to believe I was doing the right thing. I wanted to prove I wasn’t like Connor, that I could choose family over duty. But I was so desperate to be different that I couldn’t see I was being played.”

Another pause. I hold my breath.

“That must be hard for you,” Valentina says wryly. “Admitting you were wrong.”

I run a hand over my face. “Don’t,” I say tiredly. “Okay, I deserve that, I know. But can we skip the ‘I told you so’ part and focus on figuring out what the hell is actually happening?”

“I wasn’t going to say I told you so,” Valentina says, and there is something softer in her voice now that makes my chest tighten with hope. “I was going to say thank you. For finally listening.”

I close his eyes, relief making my knees weak. “I’m sorry. For everything I said during our fight. For calling you jealous and irrational. For not trusting your instincts when I should have known better. For choosing my pride over you.”

“Apology noted,” Valentina says. “We can address it properly later. Right now, we need to set up that second test.”

“Leo’s already handling it,” I tell her, smiling at the noise of surprise she makes. “Different lab, complete chain of custody, no way for Claire to know it’s happening. I got a DNA sample from Finn yesterday afternoon—kid had a juice box and I kept the straw.”

I had met up with Claire and Finn again the day after I ran out of the coffee shop. It had been a warm day and I just so happened to have a drink for Finn. He had eagerly taken it and neither he nor Claire had noticed when I surreptitiously slipped the used straw into a baggie and squirreled it into my pocket.

Valentina makes another noise of surprise. “That’s…surprisingly competent of you.”

“I have my moments,” I say dryly before I pause. “Valentina, if this comes back saying he’s not mine…if someone really did fabricate those first results…”

“Then we find out who did it and make them pay,” Valentina finishes. “And we do it together.”

“Yes,” I say, my heart in my throat. “Together.”

We don’t say “I love you” before hanging up even though the words are at the tip of my tongue. We aren’t there yet. There’s still too much hurt and betrayal between us. But we are on the same side again, and right now that’s enough.

I sit in my hotel room, staring at my phone, and feel the weight of the past several weeks crash over me.

I’d almost lost everything. My wife, my marriage, our future. All because I was too guilty and stubborn to see what was right in front of me.

But Valentina had fought for me anyway. She had pushed me to see the truth even when I’d accused her of being jealous and irrational.

She saved me from myself.

Now I just have to make sure I never need saving again.

I lift up my phone and make another call.

This time it’s to a private investigator that Leo had recommended. Someone independent, with no ties to anyone.

Someone who could follow the money without bias.

“I need you to find everything about a woman named Claire Murphy,” I say when the man answers. “And I mean everything. Where she came from, who she really is, and who’s paying her to destroy my life.”

It’s time to stop being Connor’s obedient weapon and start being the man Valentina deserves.

21

VALENTINA

Four days after the second DNA test, my mother and I are having breakfast at Maison Sainte-Claire, an exclusive, Michelin three-star restaurant that my mother has been coming to since she and my father married.

It’s a small, exclusive restaurant, the kind of place that doesn’t take walk-ins and has a three-year wait list unless you’re on the VIP list, which the Santoros are.

Although saying my mother and I are having breakfast is being generous. My mother is eating. I’m not.