Chapter 6
Richard Blackwell sat behind reinforced glass in a federal interview room.
His tie was gone.
His shirt collar was open.
Without the mansion, the guards, and the tailored jacket, he looked smaller.
But not harmless.
Men like Richard carried power even when handcuffed.
They had spent their entire lives making other people afraid.
I was wheeled into the room across from him.
Agent Hale stood behind me.
Richard stared at my hospital gown.
Then at the blood seeping beneath the bandage around my abdomen.
For one moment, regret flickered across his face.
Then it disappeared.
“Where is my son?” I asked.
Richard leaned back.
“Alive.”
“That is not a location.”
“You always were direct.”
“And you always mistake delay for control.”
His mouth tightened.
“You sound like Daniel.”
“My father?”
Richard’s expression shifted.
“He raised you.”
The room became silent.
Hale stepped forward.
“Mr. Blackwell, this interview is being recorded. Are you stating that Daniel Mercer was not Claire’s biological father?”
“I’m stating nothing until I receive terms.”
I moved closer to the glass.
“You have no terms. Your companies are being seized. Your accounts are frozen. Your son escaped federal custody. Your daughter kidnapped a premature infant. Your wife is turning against you as we speak.”
A vein moved in his temple.
“You know nothing about my wife.”
“I know she told the agents about a transfer.”
His confidence cracked.
Only slightly.
It was enough.
“What transfer?” I asked.
He looked away.
“The fertility records?”
Silence.
“The embryos?”
His eyes returned to me.
I knew.
I did not know the details.
But I knew I had touched the center of it.
“Tell me where my child is.”
“He is not Ethan’s child.”
“I don’t care.”
The answer surprised him.
“He is my son. That is the only fact that matters.”
Richard studied my face.
Then he smiled sadly.
“That is exactly what Daniel said about you.”
My throat tightened.
“What did you do to him?”
“I offered him everything.”
“You killed him.”
“No.”
“You killed Diane Vale.”
“No.”
“You built an empire on dead people and stolen children.”
His fist struck the table.
“I built an empire from nothing!”
Hale did not move.
Neither did I.
Richard lowered his voice.
“Diane discovered that samples were being switched at the institute.”
My skin turned cold.
“By whom?”
“My wife.”
Eleanor.
The elegant woman who wore pearls while applauding her son’s cruelty.
Richard continued.
“She believed bloodlines could be improved. Controlled. She selected donors based on intelligence, health, appearance, influence.”
“That is monstrous.”
“She called it legacy planning.”
“How many children?”
“I don’t know.”
“You owned the clinic.”
“Eleanor controlled it.”
“You financed it.”
His eyes hardened.
“I financed many things I did not understand.”
“That is what cowards say after they are caught.”
He looked at Hale.
“You see how she speaks to me?”
Hale’s expression remained flat.
“I’m enjoying it.”
Richard turned back to me.
“Diane created a tracking system that made hidden substitutions impossible. She threatened to expose Eleanor.”
“So Eleanor killed her.”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I was having an affair with Diane. When she died, Eleanor showed me evidence that Daniel had tampered with her car.”
I stared at him.
“My father?”
“Daniel was investigating the clinic. He believed Diane had become part of it. Eleanor made us turn against each other.”
“And six weeks later Daniel died.”
Richard’s face darkened.
“His brakes failed.”
“Just like Diane’s?”
“Yes.”
The room spun around me.
Eleanor had killed them both.
Maybe.
Or Richard wanted to save himself by sacrificing his wife.
“What does this have to do with me?”
Richard looked at my eyes.
“You were born through the clinic’s earliest program.”
My hands went numb.
“My mother gave birth to me.”
“Yes.”
“Daniel was my father.”
“He raised you.”
“Who was my biological father?”
Richard did not answer.
He did not need to.
I saw it in his face.
“No.”
“Claire—”
“No.”
“I did not know until years later.”
“You are lying.”
“Your mother came to the clinic after repeated miscarriages. Eleanor arranged the procedure. She used my genetic material without telling either of us.”
I could not breathe.
Richard Blackwell was my biological father.
Ethan had been raised as Richard’s son, though he was not his biological child.
I had married Ethan believing we were strangers.
Legally, we were.
Biologically, we were unrelated.
But Richard had known.
“How long?” I asked.
“How long have you known I was your daughter?”
“Since you became engaged to Ethan.”
The room blurred.
“You knew before our wedding.”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing.”
“It would have destroyed the family.”
“You let me live inside your house. You insulted me. You watched Eleanor treat me like garbage.”
“I thought distance would protect you.”
I laughed.
The sound came out broken.
“You call that distance?”
“I ensured Ethan’s fertility treatment used a donor embryo.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“You and Ethan could not conceive naturally. Eleanor wanted control over the next generation. I arranged for an anonymous embryo so the child would have no Blackwell genetic link.”
“You arranged it?”
“Yes.”
“Without my consent?”
His silence answered.
Rage burned through the pain.
Every choice had been stolen from me.
My father.
My marriage.
My pregnancy.
My child’s genetic identity.
The Blackwells had treated human beings like accounts they could rearrange.
I struck the glass with my palm.
“You had no right!”
“I was trying to prevent a bloodline disaster.”
“You were trying to prevent a scandal.”
Richard flinched.
I leaned closer.
“Who are my son’s biological parents?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then find out.”
“The answer is on the black drive.”
The room went still.
“The drive Ethan has?”
Richard nodded.
“Diane designed the original tracking system. Before she died, she copied the master registry. Daniel recovered it and encrypted it. The drive contains every substitution, every donor identity, every payment.”
“Why couldn’t I open it?”
“It requires two biometric keys.”
“What keys?”
“Mine.”
He paused.
“And Eleanor’s.”
Hale moved closer.
“Where is the missing baby?”
Richard looked at me.
“Naomi took him to force the drive into the open. But Ethan has your mother and the drive. He wants the registry destroyed.”
“Why?”
“Because he found his own file.”
Richard’s voice softened.
“Ethan’s biological father was a man named Samuel Reed.”
Hale’s analyst began searching.
Richard continued.
“Samuel was a union organizer at the textile mill. He planned to expose dangerous working conditions. Eleanor seduced him, used him, then accused him of theft. He died in prison.”
Ethan had built his identity around being a Blackwell heir.
Now he knew he was the son of a man his family had destroyed.
“Where will Ethan go?”
“The old mill.”
“Why?”
“Samuel Reed died protecting evidence hidden beneath that building.”
The clock on the interview room wall read 6:48 p.m.
Just over five hours remained.
I pushed away from the table.
Richard rose as far as his restraints allowed.
“Claire.”
I stopped.
“For what it is worth, I am sorry.”
I looked back at him.
“You stood over me while your family applauded.”
His eyes lowered.
“You do not get to be sorry because the handcuffs finally fit.”
I turned to Hale.
“Bring Eleanor.”
Twenty minutes later, Eleanor entered another interview room.
Her pearls were gone.
Her makeup had streaked.
But her posture remained perfect.
She sat across from me and smiled.
“Richard told you.”
“Yes.”
“I always wondered when he would become weak enough.”
“You switched embryos.”
“I improved outcomes.”
“You stole children.”
“I gave families what they paid for.”
“They paid for medical care, not your fantasies.”
She tilted her head.
“You should be grateful. Without my program, you would not exist.”
I felt no shock this time.
Only disgust.
“Where is my son?”
“Which one?”
The words froze the room.
Hale stepped forward.
“What do you mean?”
Eleanor’s smile widened.
“Claire was carrying twins.”
I gripped the table.
“No.”
“One embryo divided. Identical boys.”
“The doctors saw one baby.”
“Because one fetus was removed during a procedure at twelve weeks.”
My vision went black around the edges.
I remembered the procedure.
The clinic told me they were treating a placental bleed.
I had been sedated.
I woke with pain.
Ethan sat beside me and said everything was fine.
“What happened to my other child?”
Eleanor leaned toward the glass.
“He survived.”
“Where is he?”
May you like
Her smile vanished.
“Naomi has the wrong baby.”
