Chapter 65 #65
Chapter 65
~Dwayne~
The message came through at 11:47 PM, just as I was reviewing Marcus's latest report on Patterson's business dealings. Which seems clean by the way.
My phone lit up with Shailyn's name, and my heart immediately kicked into overdrive.
"I need your help. Can we talk tomorrow? There are things I need to figure out and I can't do it alone."
I stared at the screen, reading the words three times before responding.
"I'll be glad to. I'll text you where we can meet."
Her response was immediate: "Great!"
I sat back in my chair, my mind already running through secure locations. Somewhere private. Somewhere Dante wouldn't think to look.
Then it hit me. The old conservatory.
It was on the far east wing of the manor, past the unused guest rooms. Father had built it years ago for Mother when they first married. After a few years, it had fallen into disuse. The staff cleaned it occasionally, but no one in the family ever went there anymore.
Perfect.
I typed out the location details and sent them to Shailyn, then set my phone down and tried to focus back on Marcus's report.
What did she want to know? What had she figured out?
\---
The next morning, I was up before dawn. I'd barely slept, my mind too full of possibilities and complications.
The paternity test results sat heavy in my mind. My children. Growing inside Shailyn. Children she believed belonged to Dante.
How much longer could I keep this secret?
I made my way downstairs for coffee, finding the kitchen empty except for Mrs. Eden preparing breakfast.
"Good morning, Mr. Belmar," she said warmly. "You're up early."
"Couldn't sleep," I admitted, pouring myself a generous cup of black coffee.
"Worried about Mrs. Shailyn?" she asked knowingly. "Poor dear, what a scare yesterday."
"Yeah," I said quietly. "Something like that."
I took my coffee to my study, settling into one of the leather chairs to wait for the house to wake up. The meeting with Shailyn wasn't until ten, which gave me hours to prepare what I was going to say.
Or more accurately, what I wasn't going to say.
At 9:45, I made my way to the conservatory.
The space was beautiful despite its neglect. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the estate's eastern gardens. Plants that had once been carefully tended now grew a bit wild, creating a jungle-like atmosphere. Sunlight streamed through the glass, creating patterns on the stone floor.
I paced, checking my watch every few minutes.
At exactly ten o'clock, the door opened.
Shailyn stepped inside, closing it carefully behind her. She was wearing a simple blue sweater and jeans, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looked tired, dark circles under her eyes, but determined.
"Hi," she said softly.
"Hi." I gestured to the bench near the windows. "Want to sit?"
She moved toward it, settling onto the cushioned seat with a small sigh. "Thank you for meeting me. I know this is... probably weird."
"It's not weird," I assured her, sitting on the opposite end of the bench. Close enough to talk, far enough to maintain propriety. "What did you need help with?"
She was quiet for a moment, her fingers twisting in her lap. "I need to understand what's really happening in this family."
"What do you mean?"
"Jack Patterson," she said, looking up at me. "I overheard something at Thanksgiving. Between him and Cynthia. He was... threatening her. Blackmailing her about stealing documents. And it seems like they are having an affair.”
That shocked me, but not too much. I knew she was, I just didn't know with who. What is Jack up to?
My jaw tightened. "What exactly did you hear?"
She recounted the conversation, her voice steady despite the obvious discomfort. When she finished, I leaned back against the bench, processing.
"Did you tell Dante?" I asked.
"No." She shook her head firmly. "I can't tell him. He'd just... I don't know what he'd do. And it involves his mother."
"What do you want me to do about it?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "I just needed to tell someone. Someone who might actually listen and not... not dismiss me or tell me I'm imagining things."
"I believe you," I said firmly. "And I think Patterson is dangerous. I've been investigating him since he showed up."
"You have?"
"Yeah. Something about him doesn't sit right." I paused. "What else do you need help with?"
"The phone calls," she said. "The strange messages. Someone's been warning me about something, but I don't know what.”
"I keep having these... moments. Feelings like I'm forgetting something important. Like there's this huge piece missing and everyone knows what it is except me." She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine. "Do you know what I'm missing?"
Yes, I thought. You're missing the truth about who you really are. About what Dante's done to you. About that night we shared.
About those babies being mine.
"I think," I said slowly, "that you need to trust your instincts. If something feels wrong, it probably is."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I can give you right now. But as for the other one, I promise you I am getting to the root of it all.”
Silence fell between us, charged with everything unsaid.
Shailyn shifted slightly on the bench, and suddenly we were closer than we'd been before. Close enough that I could smell her perfume. Close enough to see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes.
"Dwayne," she said softly.
"Yeah?"
"Why do I feel like I know you? Like really know you, in a way that doesn't make sense?"
My heart stopped. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know. It's just this feeling. Like when I'm with you, something in me recognizes something in you." She shook her head. "I'm not making any sense."
"You're making perfect sense," I said, my voice rougher than I intended.
We were so close now. Close enough that I could lean in and...
No. I couldn't. She was still Dante's wife. Still believed those babies were his.
I stood abruptly, putting distance between us. "I should go."
"Right," she said quickly, also standing. "Of course. Thank you for meeting me. For listening."
"Anytime," I said, meaning it. "And Shailyn? Be careful. Especially around Dante and that doctor."
"I will," she promised.
She left first, slipping out of the conservatory with one last glance back at me.
I waited a few minutes before following, my mind racing with everything she'd told me.
Patterson's blackmail. The DNA report. The strange calls. The strange messages
It was all connected somehow. It had to be.
\---
Later that afternoon, I found myself standing outside Mother's bedroom door.
I'd been thinking about those cryptic messages. "Is she a mother or a murderer?"
The DNA test results about the babies had come back definitive. But what if there were other secrets? Other lies hidden in this family?
I knocked softly, but there was no answer. Mother was probably out at one of her charity luncheons.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Her room was immaculate as always. Everything in its place, nothing out of order. The vanity held her collection of expensive perfumes and cosmetics, all arranged with military precision.
I moved toward it, my heart pounding.
What was I doing? This was my mother. The woman who'd raised me, who'd...
Who'd what, exactly? Been cold? Distant? Favored Dante over me at every turn?
I picked up her hairbrush. Several dark strands clung to the bristles, mixed with silver.
Those messages kept echoing in my mind. The photo of the DNA test that had been cut off before the results. The implications I'd been too afraid to examine too closely.
What if...
No. That was impossible. My mother was my mother. My father was my father.
But what if they weren't?
I pulled the hairs free carefully, my hands shaking slightly, and placed them in a small plastic bag I'd brought.
A DNA test. Just to be sure. Just to put my mind at ease.
I called Lukeon my way back to my room.
"I need a DNA test," I said without preamble. "Comparing my DNA to a different sample. How fast can you get results?"
"If I mark it a priority? Three hours."
"Do it. I'm sending the sample over now."
"Dwayne, what's going on?"
"I don't know yet," I admitted. "That's what I'm trying to find out."
I packaged the hair carefully and arranged for a courier to take it to Marcus's lab contact.
Three hours.
In three hours, I'd know the truth about whether Cynthia Belmar was actually my biological mother.
And if she wasn't...
Then everything I thought I knew about myself, about my family, about my entire life, was a lie.