Chapter 1 - The Bloodline Ledger
The steering wheel of my SUV felt cold beneath my knuckles as I drove back toward Pinecrest Heights. Beside me in the passenger seat, Charlee was fast asleep, clutching her new blue teddy bear tightly against her chest. In the rearview mirror, baby Dexter was fast asleep in his newly installed car seat, breathing softly.
My mind was a chaotic storm of shock, anger, and mounting dread.
Dr. Pamela Ortiz’s confession had broken the reality I thought I knew. Jocelyn Cooper—my late corporate rival’s widow—had been given my genetic material. But Jocelyn had mysteriously vanished from the social scene three months ago. If Dexter was Jocelyn's baby, why had he been left in a cardboard box beside a dumpster on my estate grounds? And why had Charlee’s grandmother, Florence, waited thirty years to reveal that my late father had fathered a secret daughter with her?
When I pulled up to the grand stone gates of my mansion, three black sedans were parked along the circular driveway.
Mrs. Mabel met me at the heavy oak doors, her face pale and her hands trembling under her apron.
"Mr. Spencer," she whispered frantically, looking over her shoulder toward the formal study. "State Investigators are here with Miss Casey. But that's not all... your stepmother arrived twenty minutes ago."
My jaw tightened. Victoria Warren—my father’s second wife and the sole trustee of the Warren Family Estate—rarely visited my wing of the property unless she was demanding money or corporate signatures.
"Take Charlee and Dexter upstairs to the nursery, Mrs. Mabel," I commanded softly. "Lock the wing door behind you and keep two security guards outside."
"Right away, sir."
I straightened my jacket, stepped past the foyer, and pushed open the heavy mahogany doors of my father's old study.
Sitting in the leather wingback chair beneath a massive oil painting of my late father was Victoria Warren. She was sixty-five, immaculately dressed in a pearl-white Chanel suit, sipping tea from fine porcelain. Sitting across from her was Casey, the child welfare investigator, looking extremely uneasy.
"Spencer," Victoria said smoothly, setting her teacup down with a quiet clink. "I hear you’ve turned our family home into a temporary orphanage today. A street urchin and a dumpster baby? Really, darling? The press is already asking questions."
"Victoria," I said coldly, walking to the center of the room. "Why are you here?"
"I’m here because Investigator Casey called the estate registry," Victoria replied, her eyes narrowing slightly. "She claims an old woman named Florence Knox—a former maid whom your father fired thirty years ago for theft—is making absurd legal claims about our bloodline."
Casey stood up, opening a manila folder. "Mr. Warren, Florence Knox suffered a minor stroke two weeks ago, but her mind is lucid. She gave a sworn statement from her hospital bed. She claims that thirty years ago, your father, Arthur Warren, had a daughter with her named Clara Knox. Clara is Charlee’s mother."
My heart pounded against my ribs. "Clara Knox..."
"Clara died four years ago in a car accident," Casey continued. "Florence claims Clara was your half-sister. And before Florence collapsed two weeks ago, she was trying to reach you with legal documents proving Clara's paternity."
"It's a shakedown!" Victoria snapped, her voice dropping into an icy hiss as she stood up. "Florence Knox was a gold-digger who tried to blackmails your father! Arthur paid her off thirty years ago to leave Pinecrest Heights and never return! She’s using that little girl to parasite onto the Warren fortune!"
"If my father paid her off, Victoria," I said, stepping closer to my stepmother, "why didn't he mention it in his personal records? Why did he leave a sealed trust account in the Swiss Bank under the code name Project Florence?"
Victoria froze. A microscopic twitch appeared near her eye—a subtle detail I only noticed because I had spent twenty years watching her manipulate my father.
"That trust was for corporate investments," Victoria lied quickly, her voice tight.
"We'll see about that," I said. "Because I'm calling my head of private security, Marcus, and running an immediate, expedited three-way DNA test between myself, baby Dexter, and Charlee."
Casey nodded approvingly. "If the DNA confirms Charlee is your niece and Dexter is your biological son, Mr. Warren, court custody will be granted directly to you by tomorrow morning."
May you like
Victoria’s eyes flickered with a sudden, dark intensity. She looked at me, then at the staircase outside the study where my housekeeper was keeping the children safe.
"You always were too sentimental for your own good, Spencer," Victoria said softly, a chilling smile touching her lips. "Just like your foolish father. Be very careful whose blood you claim... because some secrets in this house were buried for a reason."
