Chapter 3 - THE MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING
Ryan called his father back three times.
Charles refused to answer.
On the fourth attempt, the number went straight to voicemail.
Ryan stood beside the Bentley like a man who had been pushed out of his own life.
“He knew.”
I said nothing.
“I heard it in his voice.”
“Yes.”
Ryan looked at me.
“How long have you believed that?”
“Five years.”
“And you never tried to tell me again?”
Anger flashed through me.
“I was pregnant with triplets.”
“I had no family in New York.”
“I had lost my job.”
“My husband had accused me of cheating.”
“Your father had threatened me.”
“And Harrison attorneys sent me a legal notice warning me against contacting you privately.”
Ryan stared at me.
“What legal notice?”
I pulled up an old scan on my phone.
He read it slowly.
His own law firm had issued it.
But the signature beneath the order belonged to Charles.
“I never authorized this.”
“I know that now.”
“Why didn’t your lawyer challenge it?”
“Because I had eleven thousand dollars left after the divorce.”
“Your father had a billion-dollar company and an entire legal department.”
Ryan looked away.
That answer humiliated him.
Good.
The boys were becoming restless.
I finally said,
“We are leaving.”
Ryan nodded.
Then he surprised me.
“Can I see them again?”
I stared at him.
“Not today.”
His throat moved.
“Tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.”
“Emily, please.”
“You met them ten minutes ago.”
“And I’ve already missed almost five years.”
The words came quietly.
No arrogance.
No command.
Just pain.
I hated that part of me understood it.
“I’ll call you.”
He almost argued.
Then stopped himself.
“Okay.”
We drove away.
The boys immediately started asking questions.
“Who was that man?”
“Why did he look sad?”
“Why did he have the same chin as Noah?”
Rachel looked at me from the front passenger seat.
I stared out the window.
“There’s something I need to explain soon.”
That evening, after the boys were asleep, Rachel poured two glasses of wine.
“You know he’s going to demand a DNA test.”
“He won’t need one.”
“Why?”
I opened the locked drawer in my desk.
Inside was a folder.
Rachel had never seen it.
I handed her three reports.
Each contained the same result.
PATERNITY PROBABILITY: 99.999%.
Rachel stared at me.
“You already tested them?”
“When they were babies.”
“With Ryan’s DNA?”
“I still had his old genetic screening report from when we were trying to start a family.”
Rachel sat down.
“Emily, he’s definitely their father.”
“Yes.”
“Then why keep these hidden?”
“Because there’s another page.”
I removed the final sheet.
It was not about paternity.
It was about hereditary risk markers.
Ryan carried a rare genetic variant.
So did all three boys.
But the laboratory had also found something else.
An identification code attached to Ryan’s old sample.
A corporate research code.
HARRISON PROJECT ORION.
Rachel looked at me.
“What is Project Orion?”
I shook my head.
“I never found out.”
Then my laptop chimed.
A new email had arrived.
No sender name.
May you like
Only a subject line.
IF RYAN HAS SEEN THE BOYS, YOU ARE ALL IN DANGER.
