Chapter 75: Who Is the Real Trenera Heiress?
Liam’s POV
The safe door swung open with a satisfying click, the sound echoing in the sterile hospital vault. I reached in, my fingers closing around the small glass vial containing Nora Frost’s DNA sample. After weeks of meticulous planning, draining resources, and pulling every string I had in Kingsley City, it was finally mine—the key to unraveling a suspicion that had gnawed at me for months.
“Is that it, Mr. Traynor?” My security detail hovered behind me, their unease palpable in the tense air.
“Yeah.” I slid the vial into a temperature-controlled case, sealing it with a precision born of necessity. “This doesn’t leave my sight until we’re on the jet. Understood?”
I strode out of the hospital’s restricted zone, offering a curt nod to the guard I’d paid handsomely for his five-minute “break.” In Kingsley City, money was the universal key—something I’d learned fast since stepping into this cesspool of power and secrets.
Outside, the crisp autumn air hit me as the sliding doors parted. Leaning against a sleek Tesla was a face I’d expected—Sam Norton, all casual arrogance and calculated charm.
“Got what you came for?” he asked, pushing off the car with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.
I returned a tight smile, measuring him. “I did. Thanks for the intel on Ms. Frost. You work fast.”
He shrugged, but curiosity—and something darker—flickered in his gaze. “Still don’t get why you’re so obsessed with Nora.”
“Don’t you?” I tilted my head, probing. “Tell me, Sam, do you ever regret picking Emily Hamilton over her?”
His jaw ticked, a crack in his polished facade. “Emily and I fit. Our families align. It’s strategic—”
“Cut the corporate spiel,” I interrupted, voice low and sharp. “I’m not your frat bro or your fiancée’s lapdog. I’m asking if you regret tossing aside a woman who could’ve launched you out of your father’s shadow—someone with brains and grit—because Mommy and Daddy preferred a safer bet.”
“What the hell does that mean?” His tone hardened, but I saw the guilt flash across his face.
I stepped closer, my voice a quiet blade. “It means you held a diamond and swapped it for cheap glass to please the family boardroom. You could’ve shielded Nora. Instead, you shoved her into Alexander Claflin’s twisted marriage trap.”
Sam’s face reddened, anger mixing with something raw—regret, maybe love. “You don’t know shit about me and Nora.”
“I know plenty.” I straightened my coat, unfazed. “I know she’s brilliant. I know she deserved better than being auctioned off to a monster like Claflin.”
A glint of hope—or opportunism—crossed his eyes before he buried it. “What’s your angle here?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” I glanced at my watch. “Unless you’ve grown a spine and want to help the woman you threw away.”
His silence spoke volumes—privilege without guts, just as I’d pegged him. A man torn between the memory of Nora’s fire and the cushy life Emily’s family guaranteed. I nodded toward my waiting Bentley. “Gotta run. Congratulate Emily on the engagement. Bet your families are over the moon.”
The jab landed. Sam’s expression darkened as I walked off, leaving him stewing in his regrets and what-ifs.
Inside the Bentley’s plush leather interior, my assistant Jenkins awaited, tablet glowing. “Jet’s fueled at Kingsley International, sir. Sample can be in Highcrest by midnight.”
“Good. Tell the doc to start testing ASAP. I want prelims yesterday.”
“There’s more, sir,” Jenkins interjected. “We’ve confirmed Miss Daisy’s address. Do you want to see her before we head back?”
My pulse spiked at her name. “Yes. Take me there now.”
Twenty minutes later, I stood outside Daisy’s apartment, fist hovering mid-knock. What was I doing? Before I could back out, the door flew open. There she was—golden curls tumbling past her shoulders, emerald eyes wide with shock.
“Liam?” Her voice trembled, a mix of disbelief and something deeper that clenched my chest. “Why are you here?”
I couldn’t stop myself. I stepped forward, hand brushing a stray lock from her face, the contact electric. “You left Highcrest. Did you think I wouldn’t find you?”
She edged back, creating a chasm between us. “How did you even know where I was?”
I followed her inside, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “Your texts said you were fine, but I had to see it for myself. Mom and Dad miss you, Daisy. I miss you.”
She turned away, busying herself in the tiny kitchen. “Want a drink? Coffee? Tea?”
“Daisy.” I caught her wrist gently, turning her to face me, her warmth searing through years of restraint. “Are you gonna hide in Kingsley forever? Running from what’s between us?”
Pain flashed in her eyes, masked by a brittle smile. “I’m not running, Liam. I—”
I pulled her closer, arms wrapping around her despite her initial stiffness, my resolve fraying. “Do you know how much I’ve ached for you? How much we’ve all missed you?”
She tensed but didn’t pull away. I held tighter, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo, battling the urge to spill everything—about the DNA test, about how the guilt of loving my “sister” might soon dissolve. All these years of playing the protective brother, burying my longing, shattered by that one reckless night on her birthday. If I hadn’t lost control, I might’ve kept up the lie forever.
Finally, she pushed against me, cheeks flushed, eyes glistening. “We can’t, Liam,” she whispered, voice breaking. “That night was a mistake. We were drunk, emotional—”
“Is that what you tell yourself?” My voice softened, aching. “That two decades of us meant nothing? That it was just champagne and bad timing?”
“We were raised as siblings!” Her cry cut deep. “How do I deal with... with what I feel when you’re near? With what we did?”
I wanted to tell her—about the vial, the truth that might free us from this hell. But it was too soon, too fragile. Instead, I cupped her shoulders, meeting her torn gaze. “I’m heading back to Highcrest tonight. Just trust me, Daisy. Give me time. I’ll make this right.”
“How?” Her vulnerability gutted me. “How can this ever be right?”
“You’ve done nothing wrong,” I murmured, thumb brushing a tear from her cheek. “If anyone’s screwed up, it’s me. But I’ll fix it.”
I cradled her face, fighting the primal urge to kiss her, to cross that forbidden line again. “Just stay the bright, beautiful Daisy Traynor everyone loves. Our family’s princess. Let me handle the rest.”
She nodded faintly, trust flickering despite her doubts. She had no idea that soon, everything—her identity, our bond—might shatter and rebuild into something neither of us could predict.