Calvin’s eyes met mine, steady and unwavering. "No, you didn’t. But it’s your legacy, whether you like it or not. And if Jerome finds out you’re alive, he won’t stop until you’re gone."
The room fell into a heavy silence. I wanted to scream… to cry, to wake up from this nightmare, but all I could do was stand there, numb.
After a long pause, Dr. Chelsea straightened, her voice resolute. "But the birthmark you said, Calvin, it might be burned because of the... explosion. We need proof. If what you’re saying is true, then we’ll do a DNA test. We need to know for sure."
Calvin nodded, then walked towards me. He insisted on getting a few strands of our hair and carefully sealed it in separated plastics.
Calvin nodded. "The hair strands will prove. Let's wait for the results."
After a few days, Calvin got the result. He called us to the tiny living room, the envelope with the DNA results resting on the coffee table like a ticking time bomb.
NOBODY moved.
"Y-You open it," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Dr. Chelsea hesitated, then reached for the envelope with trembling hands. She tore it open, her eyes scanning the paper inside. The room felt like it was holding its breath.
Her voice broke the silence. "Probability of maternity: 99.99%."
She let out a shaky breath, her hands dropping to her lap as she turned to me. "Y-You’re my daughter, Kelsey. You’re really mine."
Something inside me cracked. I wanted to feel relief, joy, something, but all I felt was exhaustion. I nodded, my voice hoarse. "Okay."
Calvin leaned forward, his expression unreadable. "Now you understand what’s at stake. Jerome can’t find out about this. We need to figure out a plan."
Dr.Chel—Mom glared at him, her protective instincts flaring. "No. I need to figure out a plan. You’ve done enough damage, Calvin."
He didn’t argue, but his eyes flicked to me, as if silently reminding me that this wasn’t over.
And he was right…
Time was running TOO fast. I could remember, I was Kelsey Walton, a former Engineer who’s working with Montenegros’ Construction Company—owned by Gabriel. Now, suddenly, I am a freaking heiress of Don Lucas—said to be a fucking drug lord!