Gregory slammed his fist against a marble column. A faint crack appeared, spidering through polished stone.
“My wife wore that necklace the night she died in a car accident,” he said. “They told me her unborn child did not survive. There was no other owner. No other story.”
Vanessa swallowed hard. Fear tried to crush her resolve, but a stubborn pride lifted her chin.
“If it is truly yours,” she said, her voice trembling but clear, “then tell me what is engraved on the back. If you know it, you will prove your claim.”
Gregory froze. The entire room waited.
“It says Gregory and Helena, bound forever,” he whispered.
Vanessa turned the locket. The engraving caught the chandelier light. Gregory and Helena, bound forever.
A sound escaped his throat, half sob and half disbelief. He took the locket gently this time, running his thumb across the worn letters as though touching a ghost.
“How old are you,” he asked.
“Twenty two,” Vanessa answered.
“What day were you born.”
Vanessa hesitated. “I was found on November third,” she said. “I do not know my exact birth hour. The orphanage recorded the date when they received me.”
Gregory closed his eyes. November third. The night of the crash. The night he buried his wife and the child he never met.
“Come with me,” he said suddenly. “We need to talk in private.”
Vanessa pulled back. “I want my necklace returned and I want to leave,” she said.
Gregory opened his wallet and laid a thick stack of bills on the nearest table.
“I will pay you twenty thousand dollars for ten minutes of conversation,” he said. “If you walk out that door now, I will still spend the rest of my life searching for answers. Choose wisely.”
Vanessa stared at the money, then at the man whose grief felt like a storm.
“Thirty thousand,” she said quietly. “And my necklace comes back to me after we speak.”
Gregory nodded once. “Agreed.”
He led her to a private lounge, locked the door, and paced while dialing a number.
“Dr. Callahan,” he said into the phone. “I need a DNA test tonight. Bring what you need. This cannot wait.”
When he hung up, he gestured to a sofa. “Sit,” he said.
Vanessa remained standing. “You promised a conversation,” she replied. “I do not trust you yet.”
Gregory loosened his tie, exhaustion cracking his anger.
“Tell me what you know about your past,” he said. “Anything the orphanage ever told you.”