Page 169 of Ruthless Claim

The number stays the same: 0.

Finn isn’t Cillian’s.

I was right.

The thought hits fast and sharp. There’s a flicker of something dangerously close to satisfaction. I knew it, I knew I wasn’t crazy, and dammit, it feels good to know I’ve been right all along.

I knew it.

Then, just as quickly, it turns and I feel sick.

The satisfaction curdles before it can settle, replaced by something heavier.

My stomach drops so hard my body almost follows it and my fingers tighten in my lap, pressing into my palms like I can anchor myself there.

Claire knew too. She lied.

But Claire didn’t orchestrate this. No, I may not buy the whole “I’m a poor street urchin who needs funding for her son,” but Claire does not have the funding or resources to fake DNA results.

Someone had fabricated the first test results. Someone is trying to ruin us. Ruin Cillian.

Someone wanted the first outcome.

Beside me, I can see that Cillian isn’t moving. “Are you sure?” he rasps.

He sounds…I can’t definitively name how he sounds. But he sounds like he’s either in pain or in shock.

“Absolutely.” The counselor’s eyes don’t move from Cillian’s. “There is no biological relationship between you and the child. The first results you received were either fraudulent or the samples were tampered with.”

Cillian’s jaw tightens. “Thank you.”

That’s all. No argument. No disbelief. Just “thank you.”

We leave the clinic in silence. The doors slide open with a soft hiss, and the outside world hits like a volume knob turned too high. The chilly wind that still carries the bite of winter pretending to be spring slaps me in the face.

My hands shake and I shove them into my coat pockets so Cillian doesn’t see it.

Someone planted this.

Beside me, Cillian walks without speaking. His shoulders are rigid and his face is so impassive it scares me slightly.

“What now?” I ask because I realize I don’t know what to do next.

Cillian has a thousand-yard stare on his face and I don’t think he even hears me. I open my mouth to ask him again, but his eyes snap to mine. What I see nearly makes me step back.

Rage. Pure, icy rage fills those blue eyes.

“Now we confront Claire,” he says tightly. “With both test results. And we find out who paid her to do this.”

22

CILLIAN

Getting Claire to agree is almost too easy. That’s the part that makes my stomach turn.

I call her from the car, Valentina sitting across from me watching my face while I do it. I have to keep my voice even, even a little warm. I’ve been doing a lot of things lately that require me to be something I’m not, and I’m getting very tired of it.

“Claire,” I say when she picks up, my hand curling into a fist. “I’ve been thinking about Finn. About the trust fund. I’ve made some decisions and I’d like to go over the details with you in person.”