Chapter 8 - Why Gavin Really Married MeI couldn't speak.
Sloane placed a medical file on the table.
“Nolan and Parker were part of Gavin's research program.”
My hands started shaking.
“No.”
“I know how this sounds.”
“It sounds insane.”
“It is insane.”
She opened the file.
The twins had undergone genetic testing shortly after birth.
Tests I had never authorized.
I had assumed standard newborn screening.
These were not standard.
Genetic sequencing.
Neurological markers.
Cognitive response testing.
Blood chemistry.
And one repeated phrase:
Inheritance compatibility.
“What does that mean?”
Sloane swallowed.
“Atlas required a biological key.”
I stared.
“Biological key?”
“Gavin believed your father's technology was limited by something genetic.”
I thought of the old contracts.
My father's patents.
My unknown brother.
The trust.
The twins.
Then the pieces aligned.
“My children.”
She nodded.
“Gavin needed their DNA.”
My stomach turned.
“Why?”
Sloane's voice cracked.
“Because the Bellamy family had a genetic trait linked to the neural architecture of Atlas.”
It sounded absurd.
Yet the documents were real.
I remembered Nolan's unusual memory.
Parker's ability to recognize patterns.
The small things I'd thought were quirks.
I stood.
“I want every file.”
Sloane handed them over.
“I stole them from Gavin.”
“Why give them to me?”
“Because I'm pregnant.”
I looked at her.
She continued.
“And my father wants the child.”
I understood.
Suddenly.
Gavin wasn't divorcing me because he loved Sloane.
He was divorcing me because he needed legal control of the twins.
And Sloane's pregnancy gave him another reason to remain connected to Voss.
Everything was business.
Everyone was a piece.
Except me.
I had spent thirteen years being underestimated.
Maybe that was why I had survived.
The next morning, Courtroom Six was overflowing.
Judge Beckett entered.
Gavin looked confident again.
Philip Dane stood.
“Your Honor, before proceeding, we request temporary primary custody based on Mrs. Rourke's alleged financial misconduct and instability.”
I laughed.
“Instability?”
Judge Beckett silenced me with a glance.
“Let him finish.”
Philip presented the forged bank records.
Then the custody petition.
Then a psychological evaluation claiming I had become emotionally unstable during the marriage.
I recognized the signature of the psychologist.
A doctor Gavin's company paid $18,000 a month.
My attorney objected.
We expected this.
Then I stood.
“I have evidence.”
Philip smiled.
“Again?”
I placed the medical files on the table.
“I want the court to see what my husband did to our children.”
Gavin stood.
“What is this?”
“Genetic testing.”
He froze.
Judge Beckett opened the file.
She read.
Then read again.
Her expression went cold.
“Mr. Rourke, did you authorize these tests?”
“No.”
“Did you know they were performed?”
“No.”
Sloane suddenly stood.
“He's lying.”
Gavin turned.
“Sloane…”
She pointed at him.
“You knew.”
The courtroom erupted.
Judge Beckett demanded silence.
Then she looked at Sloane.
“Ms. Pierce, what exactly are you alleging?”
Sloane turned white.
“I have recordings.”
Gavin moved toward her.
“Don't.”
Two deputies stepped between them.
I watched him.
He had finally lost control.
Then Judge Beckett ordered the recordings played.
Gavin's voice echoed through Courtroom Six.
“We don't need Cassandra to know.”
Then another voice.
“Once the boys are under his control, she can't stop Atlas.”
Everyone went silent.
Judge Beckett closed her eyes.
Then opened them.
“Mr. Rourke.”
Gavin said nothing.
She continued.
“Who is Atlas?”
He remained silent.
So I answered.
“Ask him who built it.”
Gavin looked at me.
And whispered:
“You should never have found your brother.”
The room went still.
I turned toward Nathaniel.
He looked confused.
Then my phone vibrated.
One message.
From an unknown number.
Nathaniel isn't your brother.
The message was followed by a photograph.
A DNA report.
May you like
And one final sentence:
Ask your father who your real mother was.
