“I didn’t really plan it,” he says quickly. “I just-”
“You justwhat?” I fire back. “You just decided my body was evidence you could collect?”
His mouth becomes a tight line. “It’s not like that.”
“That what is it like?” I challenge.
He goes silent, because there’s no version of this that sounds better and no version that doesn’t make him exactly what I’m starting to see him as.
“You violated me.” The words come out as a steady whisper, like volume would make it worse.
“That’s not-”
“It is,” I break in. “You took something from me without my consent. You didn’t care what it meant to me, what it could do, how it would affect me.”
His expression fractures slightly. “I did care-”
“No, you didn’t!” I snap. “Because if you did, you would’ve asked me for it.”
“I couldn’t risk-”
“There it is,” I say bitterly. “Your job and your case. Always more important than me actually being a person.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” I step closer, anger building now. “Because from where I’m standing, this looks exactly like every other man who’s ever decided they know what’s best for me.”
His expression tightens. “That’s not fair.”
“Fair?” I laugh again, louder and more broken this time. “You want to talk about fair?”
I shove at his chest, hard. Not enough to hurt him but enough to make a point. He’s too close to me and I need space so fucking badly right now.
“You don’t get to decide what’s fair after what you did,” I say, my voice shaking now. “You don’t get to act like this is some gray area.”
“Itisgray,” he insists. “Because this isn’t just about you, it’s about-”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” I cut in, my voice rising. “Don’t you dare try to justify this.”
We go silent again. At least he isn’t trying to justify it anymore. But I’m not done, I’m far from it.
“Why the hell would you even want my DNA for this damn case?” I grit out the words. Because there’s only one reason he’d risk something like this. One reason he would cross that line.
His gaze drops for a second but returns to mine a moment later. “You’re connected to him, the man leading the trafficking ring,” he says.
My stomach twists. “Connected how?”
Another pause. God, I hate that pause.
“Alex,” I grit out.
“He’s your father.”
The world stops. Just… stops.
“No,” I say immediately, flat and certain. “That’s not- no.”
“I’m sorry-”
