Page 160 of Ruthless Claim

Rage courses through me and I whirl on her. “I’m not being stupid,” I snarl.

“Yes, you are,” my cousin says bluntly, wrinkling her nose as she pushes me away. “You’re being played and you’re too proud to admit it.” She scowls at me. “And if you get in my face again, I will hit you.”

“The paternity test came back positive,” I say through gritted teeth, ignoring her last comment. “That’s not pride. That’s science.”

“Science can be bought,” Emma points out and I bite back a groan. Jesus fuck, not her too. “You know that as well as I do. How much does it cost to bribe a lab tech? To swap samples? To fabricate results?”

I really can’t believe what I’m hearing. “You sound like Valentina.”

“Good. Maybe if you hear it from both of us, it’ll finally sink in.” Emma leans back against the bench, her eyes still on me. “That woman just left. Tell me honestly—did anything about that interaction feel off to you?”

My first reaction is to say no. I want to defend Claire and insist she’s just a struggling, single mother doing her best.

But I can’t.

“She mentioned money again,” I hear myself say. “She’s been mentioning it a lot. And Finn…he asked if they were going to live with me. Said his mother told him we’d be a family.”

Emma nods slowly. “What else?”

“She touched my arm and held on too long. When I pulled away, she played it off like she was just overwhelmed and grateful.”

“Classic manipulation,” Emma says, shaking her head. “Create physical intimacy then backtrack when called out. It makes you feel like you’re reading too much into it.”

I rub my face, suddenly embarrassed I didn’t see that. “You’re going to tell me I’m an idiot.”

“No, I’m going to tell you that you’re being conned,” Emma responds, lightly rocking the stroller. “Cons only work on smart people; idiots don’t have anything worth taking.”

Despite everything, I almost smile. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“It’s supposed to make you wake up.” Emma is quiet. “Can I ask you something? Have you actually looked at the boy?”

My eyes cut to hers. “Of course I did.”

“And what did you see?”

I think about Finn. Light brown hair. Brown eyes. A serious expression that reminds me of...

Nothing. The boy doesn’t remind me of anyone.

“He doesn’t look like me,” I admit quietly, despair settling deep within my stomach.

“He doesn’t look like any Brennan,” Emma says. “And Cillian, our genes are strong. Look at every Brennan you know. We have a type.”

“Claire has dark hair and brown eyes,” I argue, but it sounds weak even to my own ears. “Recessive genes⁠—”

“Are a possibility,” Emma finishes. “But they’re not common. Especially not when both parents have such dominant features.” She pauses. “When I was pregnant with Seraphina, everyone joked about whether she’d get his Italian coloring or my Irish. You know what the doctors told us? With genes this strong on both sides, odds were she’d favor one parent heavily. And she does.” Emma sighs wearily but looks fondly at the stroller. “Little missy’s a Leo clone. The Brennan genes lost that battle.”

Emma moves the sunshade so I can look at Seraphina. She’s sleeping, tiny fists curled near her face and…yeah. She looks exactly like Leo. Poor thing. Maybe she’ll look more like her mother as she gets older.

“Your point?” I tear my gaze away from the baby.

“My point is that if this boy was really yours, he’d probably look like a Brennan,” Emma says gently. “Maybe not obviously but something. The bone structure. The way he carries himself. Something.”

I shake my head. Did Emma pass biology in high school? “You can’t determine paternity by looks.”

“No,” Emma agrees. “But you can determine probability. And that boy? He doesn’t look even remotely like he came from our family.”

Something cold settles in my stomach. I’ve noticed it myself—the lack of resemblance—but I told myself it didn’t matter. Or I thought I saw a resemblance. I thought it was possible Finn took after some long lost relatives, even my own parents.