Chapter 2 - The Shadows of Betrayal
Claire Bennett stood frozen, her chest rising and falling rapidly under her elegant cream coat. Her eyes darted from Dominic’s tear-stained face to Grace Harper, who instinctively took a half-step forward, shielding her daughter, Lucy.
"Dominic, please," Claire whispered, her voice trembling. "Your men locked me out of the penthouse. They wouldn't let me take anything. Victor said... Victor told me you found out about Brooklyn. But it’s not what you think!"
Dominic’s jaw tightened. The vulnerability that Lucy had coaxed out of him vanished instantly, replaced by the cold, unyielding mask of the Wolf of Manhattan. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled laboratory report, smoothing it out with his leather-gloved thumb.
"This is a paternity test, Claire," Dominic said, his voice flat, devoid of the grief that had just racked his chest. "Zero percent. Do you think I am a fool?"
Claire gasped, her face draining of all color. "A paternity test? Dominic, I have never—I swear to you, I have never been with anyone else! Who gave you that?"
"Victor did," Dominic replied coldly. "Along with photos of you in Brooklyn with an older man. Embracing him. Holding his hand. The same Brooklyn brownstone where Victor’s men tracked you three times this month."
Grace, observing the high-stakes confrontation, felt an uneasy knot form in her stomach. She knew of Dominic Vale—everyone in New York did, even if they only whispered his name in dark corners. He was a shadow king. But looking at the desperate terror in Claire's eyes, and remembering the absolute purity of the hug Dominic had just shared with Lucy, Grace felt a sudden, sharp pang of intuition.
"Wait," Grace said, her voice quiet but clear.
Dominic’s sharp gaze snapped to her. "This does not concern you, Ms. Harper. Take your daughter and leave."
"I am leaving," Grace said, standing her ground. "But I’ve worked in the houses of men like you for a long time, Mr. Vale. I’ve seen how people lie to gain power. And I know that the man who just wept because he thought he lost his child is being blinded by his anger. If she is lying, why is she here, in the open, begging you to listen instead of running with your money?"
Claire looked at Grace, a flicker of profound gratitude crossing her tear-streaked face. "Dominic, the man in Brooklyn... he is Dr. Arthur Vance. He is a retired geneticist and a specialist in high-risk pregnancies. I went to him because... because my family has a history of genetic heart defects. I was terrified our baby would inherit it. I didn't want to worry you until I knew for sure. He is my godfather!"
Dominic stood completely still. The wind rustled the dead leaves around his polished shoes.
"And the test?" Dominic asked, his voice barely a whisper. "Victor got the sample directly from the private clinic where you had your blood drawn."
"I have never been to the clinic Victor’s men use," Claire cried, shaking her head. "I went to my private doctor on the Upper East Side. Dominic, Victor is lying to you!"
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The seed of doubt was planted, but in Dominic’s world, doubt was a luxury that could get a man killed. He looked at Claire, then down at Lucy, who was still clutching her mother’s hand.
"Get in the car, Claire," Dominic said quietly, gesturing to the black SUV idling at the curb. "We are going to find out who is telling the truth. And if Victor has played me..." He didn't finish the sentence, but the temperature on the path seemed to drop ten degrees.
