Chapter 9 - The Two Birth Certificates
I refused to guess.
Brin did too.
DNA answered faster.
The hospital already had our samples.
Miriam obtained emergency testing through a certified lab.
The result arrived six hours later.
Brin and I were not siblings.
Relief hit harder than I expected.
But the second result complicated everything.
Patrick Hale was not my biological father.
My entire life had been built around a dead man who wasn’t my father.
Brin’s result against preserved Patrick Hale DNA showed a high probability of biological paternity.
Patrick was Brin’s father.
Not mine.
She stared at the report.
“You spent your life protecting his empire.”
“Yes.”
“And I spent mine serving drinks inside one of his son’s clubs.”
“Apparently his fake son.”
That almost made her laugh.
Almost.
“Then who is your father?”
That question led back to the sealed archive.
Elias Vane refused to answer.
“I promised your mother.”
“My mother is dead.”
“Promises don’t expire because witnesses do.”
I wanted to hate him.
Instead, I recognized the principle.
Then our son’s monitor alarmed.
Brin panicked.
Doctors entered.
His heart rhythm had changed.
Pierce arrived under federal escort.
“The device.”
“What about it?”
“It’s transmitting.”
“To where?”
“We’re tracing it.”
The signal led to Lakefront.
Rafael had activated something remotely.
I nearly tore the IV pole from the wall.
Pierce stopped me.
“It’s not hurting him.”
“How sure?”
“Completely.”
“Wrong word to use tonight.”
The transmission wasn’t controlling our son’s heart.
It was authenticating him.
A biometric handshake.
Somewhere inside Lakefront, a system had recognized the child as an authorized descendant.
Then every computer in Brin’s hospital room changed.
Black screen.
A video appeared.
Catherine Holloway.
Brin’s dead mother.
“If this message is playing, my daughter has had a child.”
Brin grabbed my hand.
Catherine continued.
“And Lakefront has tried to identify that child.”
The video was prerecorded.
Years old.
“If the father is Cormack Hale, do not trust the first paternity records you see.”
I stared at Brin.
How had Catherine known my name?
“Cormack,” Catherine said from the screen, “if you are watching this, Patrick raised you for a reason.”
My pulse hammered.
“He wanted Rafael to believe you were his heir.”
Brin whispered:
“Why?”
Catherine answered as though she heard.
“Because the real heir had to remain invisible.”
A photograph appeared.
Two infant boys.
One was me.
The other unknown.
Then Catherine said:
“Cormack, you were never Patrick Hale’s only son.”
My blood turned cold.
“Find your brother before Rafael does.”
The screen went black.
Royce stood motionless near the door.
Then his phone buzzed.
He looked down.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“Rafael just sent us a photograph.”
He turned the phone toward me.
Yara was tied to a chair.
Beside her stood a man whose face looked disturbingly like mine.
May you like
Rafael’s message contained five words:
I found your brother first.
