Chapter 17 Chapter 17
"If she is Roxanne Lawson," Julius said carefully, "this could either destroy our relationship with the Lawsons or cement it forever."
Helga's perfectly made-up face revealed nothing of her thoughts. "Either way, we need to control the narrative. And the girl."
In Tony's car, Iris clutched her portfolio tighter as they wound through unfamiliar streets. The rational part of her brain, the part that had gotten her this far in life, was screaming that this was madness. She should demand to be taken back to campus, to her normal life of designs, deadlines, and careful planning.
Yet another part of her, a part she rarely acknowledged, whispered that perhaps there was truth in Tony's wild claims. The coincidences were too perfect: her birthday, and now that two powerful families seemed so invested in her.
“Tony, I know this seems an odd idea, but if we all really want answers. Maybe we should speak with the Lawsons’s besides, whatever happens, I’m sure that they’d help my adoptive family, and in the end, they’ll just keep hunting me. Besides, if I were the missing heiress, my entry would no longer be valid. People would say it was rigged.”
Tony stared at Iris, momentarily stunned by her suggestion. She wanted to face the Lawsons directly, a confrontation he'd been desperately trying to avoid. His instinct to protect her warred with his recognition of her independence.
"Are you sure?" he asked, slowing the car as they approached a red light. "Once we open that door, there's no closing it."
Iris nodded, her jaw set with determination despite the fear flickering in her eyes. "I'm tired of running from something I don't even understand. If these people think I'm their missing daughter, let them prove it."
In the Lawson SUV, Theodore's phone rang. He glanced at the screen and answered immediately.
"Father?"
"The girl's DNA test kit was delivered to her dorm this morning," Richard Lawson said without preamble. "Our source at the testing company confirmed it."
Theodore exchanged a meaningful look with Victor. "So she was already planning to find out the truth."
"It seems so," Richard replied, his voice betraying a rare hint of emotion. "Which means we need to approach this delicately. She must not feel coerced."
In Tony's car, Iris was scrolling through her phone, researching the Lawson kidnapping case. The details matched what Tony had told her, a newborn taken from her nursery on the night of her birth, January 24th, 2000. No ransom demands. No witnesses. A case that had gone cold despite the family's wealth and influence.
"The Lawsons never stopped searching," she said quietly, looking up from her screen. "Twenty years, and they never gave up."
Tony nodded, making another turn down a quieter street. "It became their mission. Richard Lawson redirected half his company's security resources to finding his daughter."
"And now they think it's me." Iris stared out the window, watching the city blur past. "Based on what? A birthdate and where I was found?"
"And timing," Tony added gently. "The private jet that left New Jersey that night could have easily reached the Canadian border by the time you were found."
Iris fell silent, processing this information. Her entire life had been built around certainty and control, meticulous planning, careful saving, deliberate choices. The idea that her very identity might be based on circumstances beyond her control was profoundly unsettling.
In the Kennedy penthouse, Helga paced the polished marble floors, her Louboutins clicking rhythmically as she spoke with their security team.
"The tracker shows they've stopped moving," the security chief reported. "They're in an older neighbourhood on the east side. Residential area, mostly converted warehouses."
Julius studied the map on his tablet. "That must be where Tony's been hiding his separate life. Clever boy."
"Not clever enough," Helga replied coldly. "How soon can your team be there?"
“Twenty minutes, depending on traffic," the security chief replied.
"Make it fifteen," Helga ordered, ending the call with a decisive tap.
Tony pulled into a narrow alley behind a converted warehouse building, its brick facade weathered but well-maintained. He cut the engine and turned to Iris, who sat perfectly still, her portfolio clutched to her chest like armour.
"This is it," he said softly. "My real place. No one knows about it except me."
Iris studied the building, her designer's eye automatically noting the architectural details, high windows, exposed brick, and the careful preservation of original features. It was exactly the kind of space she would have chosen for herself if she'd had the resources.
"If I'm going to face the Lawsons," she said, her voice steadier than she felt, "I need to understand everything first. No more half-truths, Tony."
He nodded, guilt washing over his features. "Everything. I promise."
They exited the car, and Tony led her to a nondescript side entrance, unlocking three separate locks before pushing the heavy door open. Inside, the space opened dramatically, soaring ceilings with exposed beams, walls of windows filtering the winter light, and a clean, minimalist aesthetic that spoke of careful curation rather than unlimited wealth.
Iris found herself relaxing slightly despite the circumstances. The space felt authentic in a way that matched what she was beginning to understand about Tony; beneath the polished exterior of the Kennedy heir was something more genuine, more thoughtful.
Across town, the Lawson brothers had lost visual contact with Tony's car after it disappeared down a series of one-way streets. Still, they remained in the general area, circling blocks methodically.
"He's hiding her somewhere around here," Theodore said, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "Victor, check property records for anything that might be connected to Kennedy."
Victor was already typing on his tablet. "Nothing under Antony Kennedy or any Kennedy family holdings."
"Try variations," Bryce suggested from the back seat. "Tony instead of Antony. Middle names. Initials."
In Tony's loft, Iris set her portfolio down on the kitchen island and turned to face him directly. "Start at the beginning. When did you first suspect who I might be?"
Tony leaned against the counter, running a hand through his already dishevelled hair. "It started as just curiosity. You mentioned your birthday coincided with the missing Lawson heiress, and something clicked. I didn't mean to investigate you, but once I started noticing the coincidences..."