Chapter 13 Chapter 13
"Interesting," Richard Lawson replied, his voice betraying nothing. "And your interest in her background checks is purely because of your son's academic pursuits?"
Julius tightened his grip on the phone, maintaining his composure despite the unexpected inquiry. "Of course. Is there another reason I should be concerned with a design student?"
"Perhaps not," Richard said after a calculated pause. "It simply struck me as unusual that the Kennedy family would take an interest in an unknown scholarship student. Particularly one born on January 24th, 2000."
The implication hung in the air, unspoken but unmistakable. Julius's gaze met Helga's across the room, a silent communication passing between them.
"A coincidence, nothing more," Julius replied smoothly. "Though I understand why the date might catch your attention."
"Indeed," Richard said. "Well, I won't keep you. Give my regards to Helga. And Julius? I hope we both understand that some matters are best left undisturbed."
The call ended, leaving Julius staring at his phone. Helga set down her teacup with deliberate care.
"He knows something," she said, her voice tight with calculation. "The question is what."
Julius nodded slowly. "And how much he suspects we know. This complicates matters."
"Or simplifies them," Helga countered, her mind already recalibrating their strategy. "If Richard Lawson is watching this girl too, then the connection is more likely than we thought."
"We need to move carefully," Julius warned. "The Lawsons have resources we can't match if this becomes adversarial."
Helga's lips curved in a cold smile. "Then we ensure it doesn't. For now, we continue as planned. Tony has his lunch with Eleanor, and our investigator keeps an eye on Miss Maxwell."
At Café Meridian, Iris finished her shift and hung up her apron, exhausted but relieved to have the rest of the day for her studies. As she gathered her things from the back room, her phone buzzed with an email notification from the DNA testing company: "Your kit has shipped! Tracking information enclosed."
She smiled faintly, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation washing over her. Soon, she'd have answers, or at least, she'd be able to put to rest the ridiculous notion that she might be connected to the Lawsons. Either way, the truth would be a relief.
Across campus, Tony walked reluctantly toward Maison Laurent, the upscale French restaurant where Eleanor waited. His mind was still spinning with Iris's casual announcement about the DNA test. He needed to warn her somehow, to prepare her for what might come, but he couldn't do that without revealing his own suspicions, suspicions he had no right to have formed in the first place.
Eleanor was already seated when he arrived, elegant in a conservative navy dress, her blonde hair pulled back in a sophisticated chignon. She looked nice, but she wasn’t his type; he always saw her more like a sister.
As he got closer to the table, Eleanor spoke first, “About time you found someone you like. So when are you really going to ask her out?” A smile played on her lips.
Tony blinked, caught off guard by Eleanor's directness. "What are you talking about?"
"Please," Eleanor said, stirring her water with a thin slice of lemon. "My mother texted that Helga is in a state because you're interested in some scholarship girl. I haven't seen you this distracted in years."
Tony slid into the seat across from her, studying his childhood friend with newfound appreciation. They'd always understood each other, even if their parents didn't.
"It's not like that," he said, then paused. "Well, maybe it is. I don't know."
Eleanor's perfectly shaped eyebrows rose. "The great Tony Kennedy, uncertain? She must be special."
"She is," Tony admitted, keeping his voice low. "But it's complicated."
"Isn't it always with our families?" Eleanor glanced around before leaning closer. "Speaking of complicated, Marissa sends her love."
Tony smiled, genuinely this time. Eleanor's girlfriend had been a secret for nearly four years, a secret their parents would never accept.
"How is she? Still in London?"
"For another month. Then hopefully back here." Eleanor's expression softened momentarily before her social mask slipped back into place. "Now, tell me about this girl who has Helga Kennedy in such a tizzy."
Tony hesitated. He trusted Eleanor, but talking about Iris and his suspicions felt like a betrayal. Still, he needed an ally, and Eleanor had always been good at navigating family politics.
"Her name is Iris. She's a design student. Brilliant, driven, completely unimpressed by me or my family name."
"Refreshing," Eleanor commented, taking a sip of her water.
"There's more," Tony said, lowering his voice further. "She was abandoned as a newborn on January 24th, 2000."
Eleanor's eyes widened slightly, the implication immediately clear to someone who had grown up in their social circles. "The same day as..."
"Yes," Tony cut her off. "And she just told me she's ordered a DNA test kit."
Eleanor set down her glass, all pretence of casual conversation gone. "Tony, if she's who you think she might be..."
"I know," he said grimly. "And my parents are already looking into her background. So are the Lawsons."
"Jesus," Eleanor breathed. "Does she have any idea what she might be walking into?"
"None. To her, it's just a way to put some birthday coincidence jokes to rest."
Eleanor studied him, her shrewd mind working through the implications. "You care about her."
It wasn't a question. Tony nodded, not trusting himself to articulate the confusing tangle of feelings Iris evoked in him.
"Then you need to tell her," Eleanor said firmly. "Before someone else does."
Across campus, Iris walked briskly toward the design building, unaware of the attention now focused on her life. Her mind was occupied with practical concerns: the colour theory assignment due tomorrow, the interview with Metropolitan Design, and the days until the Lawson competition results and the sketches for her Online store pieces that still needed refinement. The DNA test was just another item on her checklist, a way to resolve an old question so she could move forward unencumbered.
She had no way of knowing that across town, two of the city's most powerful families were discussing her fate as though she were a chess piece rather than a person.
In the elegant dining room of Maison Laurent, Tony leaned forward, his lunch with Eleanor forgotten as they spoke in hushed tones.
"I can't just tell her I've been investigating her past," Tony said, running a hand through his hair. "She'd never trust me again."
Eleanor's expression was sympathetic but pragmatic. "You may not have a choice. If our parents are involved, and the Lawsons too, this will get ugly fast."
"There has to be another way," Tony insisted. "Maybe I could warn her without telling her everything. Just enough that she's prepared if something comes up."
Eleanor took a careful sip of her water. "Tony, you're not thinking clearly. If she is Roxanne Lawson, her entire life is about to change. The media attention alone would be overwhelming."
Tony's stomach twisted at the thought of Iris thrust into the spotlight, her carefully constructed independence shattered by revelations about a past she'd never asked to discover.