Chapter 10 - A Mother Is Never Finished Fighting
Elena awoke in a room with no windows.
Her wrists were tied to a metal chair, and her mouth tasted of blood.
Victor stood near the door, reading something on his phone.
“You've always been dramatic,” he said without looking up.
Elena tested the restraints.
“You've always mistaken cruelty for intelligence.”
He smiled.
“And yet here you are.”
“Where is my son?”
“Safe.”
“You used that word before you stole him from me.”
Victor slipped his phone into his pocket.
“You forced my hand.”
“No. You were afraid I would expose you.”
His smile faded slightly.
“You have no idea how close this family came to collapsing.”
“I know exactly what you did.”
Elena leaned forward as far as the restraints allowed.
“You stole the charitable funds. You forged the trust records. You arranged the crash that killed Thomas Hayes.”
Victor's expression became cold.
“You should have remained dead.”
“And you should have learned that a mother never stops looking for her child.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Victor walked toward her.
“Do you know why Donovan was always Father's favorite?”
Elena said nothing.
“Because Donovan was obedient when it mattered. He knew when to stop asking questions. He understood that a family survives by keeping certain truths buried.”
“You're the one who buried them.”
“I protected myself.”
“You murdered our father.”
Victor struck the chair with his palm.
“I did not murder him.”
Elena flinched, but she didn't look away.
“You arranged the road collision.”
“I arranged a warning.”
“And he died.”
“Because he refused to listen.”
Victor stepped back.
His voice became quiet again.
“Father wanted to give Donovan everything. The company. The trust. The name. Even the woman who should have been mine.”
Elena stared at him.
“What woman?”
Victor laughed softly.
“Maeve Bennett.”
The room seemed to change temperature.
“You knew her before the gala?”
“Not personally. But I knew about her.”
“How?”
“Your brother has always had a weakness for women who make him feel human. When I learned he had met someone at the charity event, I ordered a background check. I wanted to know whether she could be useful.”
“You were spying on him.”
“I was protecting what belonged to me.”
“Nothing belongs to you.”
Victor's face hardened.
He leaned toward her.
“Everything belongs to the person willing to take it.”
He left the room.
Elena sat alone in the silence.
She had spent three years hiding from him, believing she could protect Adrian by making herself disappear.
Now she understood the terrible mistake.
Victor had never needed to find her.
He had always known where she was.
He had simply been waiting until she became useful.
When the guard returned with a bottle of water, Elena lowered her head.
“Please,” she whispered. “Can I see my son?”
The guard hesitated.
Victor had instructed him not to answer questions.
But the guard was young, and Elena's voice carried the kind of grief that made cruelty difficult.
“I don't know where he is,” he said quietly.
“Does Victor keep him here?”
“No.”
“Then where?”
The guard looked toward the door.
“I heard him talking about a house near the river.”
Elena lifted her head.
“Which house?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Then, after a pause, he added, “But there's a woman looking after him.”
Elena's heart pounded.
“Who?”
The guard stepped back.
“I shouldn't have told you anything.”
He left before she could ask another question.
Elena closed her eyes.
A woman near the river.
Someone who could reach Adrian.
Someone who might be able to help.
For the first time since her capture, she allowed herself to hope.
Across the city, Maeve stood before the mirror in the townhouse bedroom, trying to decide what to wear.
She had never imagined she would need to choose an outfit for a confrontation involving two rival criminal families and a stolen inheritance.
She selected dark trousers, a loose sweater, and comfortable shoes.
Then she placed the ultrasound photograph inside her bag.
Donovan appeared at the doorway.
“You don't have to come.”
Maeve looked at him through the mirror.
“You've said that three times.”
“I'm making sure you understand.”
“I understand that Victor wants to destroy your family, that he has Elena's son, and that he believes threatening me will make you surrender.”
Donovan nodded.
“And?”
“And I understand that he's counting on everyone around you being too frightened to resist him.”
She turned.
“I'm not frightened enough to make his job easy.”
Donovan studied her face.
“You realize I can't guarantee what will happen tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“If anything changes, Julian will take you away immediately.”
“Only if I agree.”
His expression tightened.
“Maeve.”
She stepped toward him.
“You don't get to offer me freedom only when it's convenient. If I'm going to help you, I need to be treated as a partner, not a liability.”
For a long moment, Donovan said nothing.
Then he took her hand.
“Then we'll do this together.”
She squeezed his fingers.
“And we're bringing Adrian home.”
“Yes.”
They had just turned toward the door when Maeve's phone rang.
An unfamiliar number.
She answered cautiously.
“Hello?”
A man's voice spoke.
“Miss Bennett, my name is Dr. Samuel Reed. I was the physician who treated Elena Hayes after her accident.”
Maeve's blood ran cold.
“Why are you calling me?”
“Because I've seen the message circulating about your pregnancy, and I believe you deserve to know the truth.”
Donovan moved closer.
Maeve put the call on speaker.
“What truth?” she asked.
“The hospital records concerning your pregnancy were accessed using my credentials. I never authorized those requests.”
“Who did?”
“I believe someone inside the clinic was using stolen login information.”
“Do you know who?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“Her name is Dr. Evelyn Shaw.”
Maeve frowned.
“Shaw? Is she related to Natalie?”
“I don't know. But there's another reason I called.”
The doctor's voice trembled.
“Your medical file contains a paternity inquiry. The request was submitted before your pregnancy was confirmed.”
Maeve gripped Donovan's hand.
“Who submitted it?”
“Someone using Donovan Hayes's name.”
Donovan's face went still.
“I never requested a paternity test,” he said.
The doctor heard him.
“Then someone was impersonating you.”
Maeve's throat tightened.
“Can you prove that?”
“I have a copy of the request and the access logs.”
Donovan stepped closer to the phone.
“Dr. Reed, where are you?”
“Not somewhere I can speak freely.”
“Then tell us what you can.”
The doctor took a breath.
“The paternity inquiry was only one part of the file. Someone also requested a record connected to a prior pregnancy.”
Maeve felt the world tilt.
“What prior pregnancy?”
“I don't know. The record was attached to a patient with a similar name.”
“Whose name?”
There was a long silence.
Then the doctor said, “Elena Hayes.”
Donovan's expression changed.
“Are you saying Maeve's medical file was linked to my sister's?”
“Yes. And the record suggests Elena was pregnant before the accident, but the pregnancy was listed under a different identity.”
Maeve looked at Donovan.
The puzzle was growing darker by the minute.
The woman who had supposedly died three years earlier had been connected to Maeve's current medical records.
Someone had requested a paternity test before Maeve's pregnancy was confirmed.
And someone had forged Donovan's name to do it.
Then Dr. Reed whispered the words neither of them had expected.
“Miss Bennett, I think someone has been preparing for your child since before you ever met Donovan Hayes.”
The call ended.
Maeve stood motionless.
Donovan took the phone from her hand and examined the screen.
A new message had arrived.
It contained a single photograph.
A picture of Maeve outside the clinic, taken on the day of her first pregnancy appointment.
Behind her, visible through the glass entrance, stood a young woman with dark hair.
The woman was wearing a hospital bracelet.
May you like
Elena Hayes.
Three years after her supposed death, she had been watching Maeve's pregnancy from the beginning.
