Page 154 of Ruthless Claim

Valentina’s eyes are bright with unshed tears now, but her voice is steady. “How dare you.”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” I push forward, even though everything in me is screaming to stop. “Tell me this isn’t about you being the only person in my life anymore.”

“This isn’t about Claire!” Valentina shouts, a tear tracking down her cheek. “I don’t give a fuck that you spent eight weeks together. This is about you lying to me for a month! About you destroying the trust we built because you thought you knew better than to tell me the truth!”

“I was trying to protect you⁠—”

“I don’t need your protection! I need your honesty!”

She’s shaking now, a slight tremor running through her, and something cracks open in my chest because this is all my fault. I’d lied to her, kept secrets, and now we are here, screaming at each other while my pregnant wife trembles with rage and hurt.

But I can’t back down. Not when backing down means admitting I’ve been wrong about everything.

“And now you won’t even consider that something might be wrong because you’re too busy self-flagellating yourself over being a deadbeat father!” she continues.

My face flushes hot and I jerk back as if slapped. “That’s not⁠—”

“It is exactly that,” she snarls, cutting me off. “You’re so desperate to do the right thing, to make up for eight years of absence, that you’re not seeing clearly. That woman shows up out of nowhere with perfect timing and a convenient sob story and you just…accept it. No questions asked.”

“I asked for a paternity test!”

“After she’d already hooked you with the guilt!” Her voice cracks. “God, Cillian, can’t you see? Everything about this situation is designed to manipulate you. The timing, the approach, the way she keeps mentioning money⁠—”

“She’s a single mother who’s been struggling,” I say tightly, but doubt is creeping in now despite my best efforts. “Of course she needs financial support. That doesn’t make her a con artist.”

“It makes her suspicious as hell!”

“Or it makes her desperate!” I drag a hand through my hair, my composure finally fracturing into a million pieces “Jesus Christ, Valentina, what do you want from me? The test came back positive. He’s my son. I can’t just ignore that because you have a bad feeling about it.”

But even as I say it, I’m thinking about Claire’s hand on my arm yesterday, fingers lingering too long. About Finn’s odd questions. About the timeline that doesn’t quite add up if I really think about it.

No, I tell myself firmly. You’re letting her paranoia get to you. The test was positive. The science doesn’t lie.

“I’m not asking you to ignore it,” Valentina says heatedly, strands of her hair falling in her face. “I’m asking you to be smart. To verify. To protect our family the same way you’d protect any other asset in Connor’s organization.”

“Our family.” I repeat bitterly. I know I’m being an asshole, but I can’t stop myself. “You mean your family. The one that doesn’t include the child I apparently abandoned for eight years.”

Shit. Valentina’s face goes pale, and something behind her eyes shutters.

“That’s what you really think,” she says softly, looking like I’ve just destroyed her. “That I’m being selfish. That I’m putting myself above your son.”

No, I want to say. That’s not what I meant.

But my pride won’t let me. Instead I close my eyes and say, “I think you’re scared. And I think that fear is making you see conspiracies where there might not be any.”

“And I think you’re so consumed with guilt that you’re not thinking straight,” Valentina fires back. “I think you want this to be real because it gives you someone to save, someone to protect, a way to prove you’re not like Connor—using and discarding people without a second thought.”

My eyes snap open. The words hit like a punch to the gut because they are true. That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking, even if I haven’t admitted it to myself.

Finn is a chance to be different. To choose family over duty. To prove I’m not just Connor’s trained weapon.

But I can’t let Valentina see that she’s struck a nerve.

“Don’t bring Connor into this,” I say, coldly.

“Why not? This is about him too, isn’t it?” She’s relentless now, all her insights from the entirety of our marriage crystallizing into words designed to make me bleed. “You’ve spent your whole life being Connor’s perfect weapon, his obedient nephew who does what he’s told without question. But Finn—Finn gives you a chance to be something else. Someone who⁠—”

“Enough,” I snap, my voice icy. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.