Chapter 5 - Evelyn’s True Face
I didn't hesitate. I ordered immediate matching tests right there at Mercy General, bypassing hospital bureaucracy with a single phone call to the hospital’s chief executive. Within two hours, the blood work was completed, rushed to the lab, and verified by three independent senior oncologists.
A match. A near-perfect genetic match for Lily.
When I walked back out of the private consultation room, my mind was no longer clouded by confusion or grief. It was consumed by pure, unadulterated rage.
I didn't go back to the penthouse. I drove straight there, my knuckles white against the steering wheel, my foot heavy on the gas.
When I unlocked the penthouse door, the sprawling, minimalist apartment was bathed in the warm golden glow of sunset over Lake Michigan. Soft jazz played from the integrated sound system. Evelyn was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, pouring a glass of pinot noir, looking like the picture of effortless, elegant perfection.
“Lucas, darling, you're back,” Evelyn said, turning around with a warm, welcoming smile. “How was your emergency meeting? You looked so stressed when you left this morning.”
I didn't take off my coat. I didn't say a word. I just walked across the imported Italian marble floor, stopping a few feet away from her.
Evelyn’s smile faltered slightly as she took in my expression. The dead silence in the room made her unease grow.
“Lucas? What’s wrong?” she asked, setting her wine glass down on the marble counter with a slight clink.
“Let’s talk about Dr. Vance,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, the quiet before the storm.
Evelyn blinked, her face freezing for a split second before she quickly recovered her poise. “Dr. Vance? The fertility specialist? What about him?”
“The man you recommended,” I said, stepping closer. “The man who told Natalie and me that she was barren. The man who conveniently provided the falsified medical records that allowed you to slowly poison my marriage from the inside out.”
Color drained from Evelyn’s face. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Did you really think I wouldn't find out?” I roared, slamming my hand down on the marble counter, shattering her wine glass into a thousand glittering pieces.
Evelyn flinched, stepping back until her spine hit the glass window. The mask of the graceful billionaire’s wife vanished entirely, replaced by a cold, calculating stranger.
“You found her,” Evelyn whispered, her voice hardening. “You found that pathetic little nobody and her bastards.”
“They are my children, Evelyn!” I shouted, the fury I had held back for years finally breaking through the dam. “And you knew it all along, didn't you? You paid Vance to lie! You engineered my divorce so you could latch your claws onto my empire!”
Evelyn let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. She threw her head back, wiping a speck of spilled wine from her wrist with a napkin.
“And what if I did?” she snapped, her eyes narrowing with venom. “You were a depressed, miserable workaholic when I met you! I gave you the social standing, the pristine image, the trophy wife you needed for your boardrooms! You think some middle-class schoolteacher from the suburbs was going to help you conquer Wall Street? Please, Lucas. You should be thanking me.”
I stared at the woman I had married, realizing I had never truly known her at all.
“Pack your bags, Evelyn,” I said, my voice dropping to a terrifying, icy whisper. “You have one hour to get every single belonging out of this penthouse. Because by tomorrow morning, my lawyers are going to file for an absolute annulment based on fraud, and I am going to strip you of every penny, every stock option, and every social privilege I ever gave you.”
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Evelyn’s eyes widened in sheer terror. “You can’t do that! I’ll ruin you in the press! I’ll tell the board—”
“Try,” I interrupted, stepping toward the door and pulling out my phone. “Marcus? Get security up to the penthouse immediately. And have our legal team prep the fraud indictments for Evelyn Brooks.”
