Chapter 100
Francis POV
I stared with mounting horror as the police officer entered the interrogation room carrying two clear evidence bags. Detective Bob followed close behind, his expression neutral but his eyes gleaming with quiet satisfaction.
"What is this?" I demanded, pulling against the handcuffs that kept me secured to the chair. The metal dug into my wrists, a constant reminder of my captivity.
"We're collecting DNA samples, Mr. Grayson," Detective Bob said, emphasizing my real surname with obvious pleasure. "Standard procedure."
Panic surged through me. If they compared my DNA to Evelyn's, everyone would know. The last thread of my carefully constructed life would unravel completely.
"This is illegal!" I shouted, my voice rising with desperation. "You're violating my rights! I do not consent to this!"
Detective Bob leaned forward, his face inches from mine. "If you're truly Miss Moore's biological father as you've claimed all these years, why are you so afraid of a simple DNA test?"
The question hung in the air between us. I couldn't answer. Years of lies compressed into this single moment of exposure.
Connor, that smug lawyer who'd been helping Evelyn, stepped forward from his position against the wall. "Besides, if samples were already obtained during your altercation with Mr. Turner, that wouldn't constitute an illegal search. Evidence in plain view, obtained during the commission of a crime—like you assaulting Mr. Turner—is perfectly admissible."
I gritted my teeth so hard my jaw ached. They had me cornered. My mind raced, searching for any escape route, any way to maintain the facade a little longer.
Detective Bob noticed my expression and smiled. "Officer, tell the lab these samples are priority processing. I want results as soon as humanly possible."
"No!" I lurched forward instinctively, forgetting I was handcuffed to the chair. The metal legs scraped against the floor as I toppled sideways, crashing to the ground with the chair still attached to my wrists. Pain shot through my shoulder as I landed awkwardly.
"Careful there," Detective Bob said, making no move to help me up. Two officers lifted me and the chair back to an upright position. "Seems you've lost that arrogant attitude pretty quickly."
I glared at him, hatred burning through my veins. "You'll regret this."
"Want to make a bet on that?" The detective crossed his arms. "You know, prisons can be dangerous places for men like you. Sometimes inmates have mysterious accidents. Sometimes they just... disappear."
My blood ran cold. "Are you threatening me? That's police brutality! My lawyer will—"
"I'm not threatening anything," Detective Bob cut me off, glancing pointedly at the camera in the corner of the room. "Just making conversation. Walls have ears, you know. And from what I understand, you've been involved with some pretty dangerous people, Francis. People who might not appreciate you talking too much."
X's warning flashed through my mind. "If you fail, if you talk, there won't be anywhere safe for you." The memory made my stomach twist with genuine fear.
"I need protection," I said, my voice lower now. "Special protection."
Detective Bob smiled thinly. "We'll take that under advisement."
Two officers came to escort me back to my cell. As they led me away, I saw Connor speaking quietly with Magnus—the man who had ruined everything, who had taken my daughter from me. No, not my daughter. Never truly mine.
Evelyn POV
I watched through the one-way glass as Francis fell from his chair in his desperate attempt to avoid the DNA test. A complicated mix of emotions churned inside me: satisfaction at seeing his facade finally crumble, rage at the decades of abuse I'd suffered at his hands, and a hollow ache for the childhood I should have had with my real father.
His panic at the prospect of DNA testing confirmed what I already knew from my mother's letter. He had always known I wasn't his daughter. Every cruel word, every harsh punishment, every time he had made me feel worthless—it had all been deliberate, his revenge against Magnus and my mother.
When the officers led Francis away, his eyes briefly met mine through the glass, though he couldn't see me. I didn't look away. Let him wonder if I was watching. Let him feel a fraction of the helplessness I had felt growing up under his control.
When Connor spotted me, relief washed over his face. "Evelyn, thank god. The documents have been sent to the prosecutor's office. And Magnus turned out to be your biological father. That means Cassidy is your sister. Oh my god, I can't even imagine how happy she would be when she learns this news! When are you planning to tell her?"
I signed, [I haven't made up my mind yet. I'm also gradually processing this surprise myself. However, I want to tell her myself, so please keep it a secret for me for now.]
Connor grinned, " Of course I will."
I gave a faint smile. So much had happened today.
"You've been a regular savior today," Detective Bob added, approaching from the hallway. His smile seemed genuine, though fatigue lined his eyes.
I managed a small smile in return, though exhaustion pulled at every muscle in my body. The emotional whiplash of learning Magnus was my biological father, followed by delivering evidence against the man who had raised me, left me feeling hollowed out.
My phone buzzed with an incoming video call from Ryan. I hesitated for just a moment before accepting. His familiar face appeared on screen, his brow slightly furrowed with concern.
"Hey, where are you?" he asked. "I thought we could grab dinner. That new place on 7th Street finally has an opening."
Before I could begin signing my response, Connor leaned into frame. "We're at the police station, Ryan."
Ryan's expression shifted immediately from casual to concerned. "What happened? Is Evelyn okay?"
"I'm fine," I signed, the movement captured by my phone's camera.
"I'll be there in five minutes," Ryan said, ending the call before I could protest.
Connor touched my shoulder gently. "I need to process some paperwork for the charges against Francis. Will you be alright here for a few minutes?"
I nodded, signing that I was fine.
"I should help with the statement," Magnus added, his voice still strange to me—the voice of my father, a concept I was still struggling to absorb.
"I'll keep Miss Moore company," Detective Bob offered, gesturing toward some chairs in a quieter corner of the room.
Once we were seated, he studied me with professional concern. "Are you really okay? I heard Maxwell took you earlier today."
I froze, my hands stilling mid-sign. How did he know about Maxwell?
Detective Bob seemed to read my question in my expression. "Your future in-laws arranged for protective surveillance after everything that happened. We were alerted when you were taken, but by the time officers arrived, you had already left the restaurant voluntarily."
I quickly signed that Maxwell had only wanted to talk privately and give me some of my mother's things, indicating the wooden box.
"Well, I'm grateful it turned out that way," the detective said, his smile dimming slightly. He seemed to recall something, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before he masked it.
I caught the change in his expression, wondering what Francis might have said during interrogation to cause that reaction. But I didn't ask. Some truths were better approached when I had more strength to face them, and today had already delivered more revelations than I could process.
Instead, I sat in silence with Detective Bob, both of us watching the door, waiting for Ryan to arrive.