Chapter 557 - 153 Exhuming the Past

Chapter 557: Chapter 153 Exhuming the Past

Claire’s POV

These past days had been absolutely torturous. I still hadn’t devised a proper scheme to extract the laundered funds from Nathaniel’s offshore accounts. My thoughts scattered when the housemaid burst into the marble-floored sitting room of our estate, breathing heavily and gesticulating wildly.

"Claire! There are three men at the security gate. Three! One claims to be a federal court officer looking for young Justin, and the other two—rather dangerous types if I’m honest—say Don Connor sent them to see you." The woman’s voice echoed through the entire wing of the mansion.

Justin strode into the sitting room, his designer suit impeccable but his brow furrowed with concern. "Why would a federal court officer be asking for me, Tessa?"

"He insisted on speaking only with you directly, sir," the maid replied with wide, fearful eyes.

I rolled my eyes, already irritated by this intrusion into my carefully orchestrated morning. "Just escort them all in at once."

Tessa scurried away through the palatial corridors, returning moments later with three men trailing behind her. They stood awkwardly in my opulent sitting room, clearly out of place among the imported Italian furniture and Renaissance paintings that served as fronts for our money laundering operations.

I addressed the most professional-looking one, easily identifiable as the court officer by his federal badge and crisp suit. "What business brings the federal courts to our family estate, officer?"

The man ignored me completely, turning to Justin instead. "Are you Justin Ward Sullivan?"

"Yes, that’s me. What’s this about?" Justin crossed his arms defensively, his expensive watch catching the light from the crystal chandelier.

"Sign here, please." The officer thrust a federal document and pen toward him. "Your father is contesting paternity through the family courts and requires you to appear at these two accredited laboratories for DNA testing."

"What?" Justin turned to me, his face reddening with rage. "Mom, that old bastard has completely lost his mind! I’m going to have him—"

"SILENCE, JUSTIN!" I snapped, cutting off his foolish ranting in front of a federal officer. Turning to the official, I asked with calculated calm, "And what happens if he refuses to comply with this court order?"

The officer’s expression hardened, his eyes reflecting the kind of authority that even mafia families respected. "Believe me, ma’am, it would be in everyone’s best interest if he complies with federal jurisdiction."

With nothing more to add, the officer departed through our secured entrance, leaving us with Don Connor’s two enforcers.

"Mom—" Justin began to whine like the spoiled heir he’d always been.

"Be quiet and sit down," I commanded sharply, my voice carrying the authority I’d cultivated through decades in this underworld. "Let me handle these gentlemen first. We’ll discuss your legal situation afterward." Justin reluctantly obeyed, slumping into a velvet-upholstered chair while I addressed the two men. "Did Don Connor explain your assignment clearly?"

The taller one, with a face like carved granite and scars that spoke of violence, nodded. "Yes, ma’am. We’re here to collect the girl’s photograph and known locations from you."

I’d anticipated this request and had everything prepared in my private study. Reaching into my Hermès purse, I pulled out an envelope containing a photograph and several handwritten addresses, handing it over with the practiced efficiency of someone accustomed to such transactions.

"When do you plan to execute the operation?" I inquired.

"Today. We’ll deliver the girl to you by tomorrow evening."

I couldn’t help but smile, the first genuine expression of satisfaction I’d felt in weeks. Finally, something was proceeding according to my carefully laid plans.

After dismissing Connor’s enforcers through our private security corridor, I turned my attention to Justin. The time had come for a conversation I never imagined having with my heir.

"Justin, Nathaniel is not your biological father. He discovered this somehow through his own family’s intelligence network, though I don’t know exactly how," I stated plainly, seeing no reason to soften the blow that would reshape his entire understanding of his place in our organization.

To my surprise, Justin smirked with the arrogance that came from growing up in this world of power and privilege. "I’ve always suspected it! I never connected with that old man, can’t stand Beckett and his sanctimonious attitude, and frankly, Lila’s righteousness annoys me too. I knew I couldn’t possibly belong to that family’s bloodline. So who’s my real father?"

"Listen carefully, Justin. It’s in our best interest that you appear genuinely concerned about this legal situation." I grabbed the federal paperwork from his hands, scanning the official letterhead. "Damn! These are two of the most prestigious forensic laboratories in the country. Without Aria’s connections in the medical establishment, I can’t manipulate these results."

"I don’t even want you to fix anything, Mom. It’s actually liberating not to be connected to that self-righteous family. Now tell me—who’s my father?" Justin persisted, his excitement growing like that of a child discovering a new toy.

"Your father is Don Connor," I admitted finally, watching his face transform.

Justin’s expression lit up like he’d just inherited a casino empire. "Are you serious? You’ve hidden this from me all these years? Connor is a legend in this business! This is incredible news!"

"Don’t get too excited," I cautioned, remembering Connor’s reputation for ruthlessness even toward his own blood. "Connor never believed you were his son."

Justin laughed with the confidence of youth and privilege. "I wouldn’t have believed you either, Mom. But everything’s different now. He knows me, and once the DNA test confirms it, I’ll have his name—and access to his empire. He’s generous with his acknowledged children, isn’t he? Finally, something good happens in this mess!"

I watched him pace excitedly around our lavishly appointed room, already regretting my honesty. He had no idea what kind of man Connor truly was or what brutal challenges awaited anyone seeking to claim a place in his organization. But I had more pressing matters—preparing for my daughter’s imminent arrival.

"Claire! Claire!" The maid’s shrill voice interrupted my strategic planning as she bustled into the room again, her face flushed with nervous energy.

"What now, you incompetent woman?" I snapped, my patience completely exhausted.

"I’m not incompetent," she pouted childishly, apparently immune to the dangerous atmosphere that surrounded our family.

"Whatever. What is it, Tessa?"

"Phone call for you. Some lawyer, I forgot his name." This woman couldn’t remember anything useful despite the generous salary we paid for discretion.

Taking the secure phone, I shooed her away before answering. It was indeed Aria’s attorney, complaining about not receiving payment and refusing to continue representing her in the federal case without it.

"I’m working on securing the necessary funds," I assured him, knowing how expensive it was to buy silence in federal court.

"That’s precisely the problem, Claire. I’m a lawyer—I don’t trust promises when it comes to payment in cases involving organized crime. Defense attorneys are always the first to get eliminated when money gets tight."

"I understand your concern, but I guarantee you’ll receive full payment within the week."

"Not soon enough. Your associate has been transferred to federal prison and she’s absolutely unbearable. I won’t work for free, especially not in RICO cases." I knew exactly how difficult Aria could be under pressure.

After considerable negotiation involving veiled threats and promises, I persuaded him to wait until next week. I’d have the money once I handed Lila over to Connor—he’d pay handsomely for Nathaniel’s precious daughter.

I hung up, my head pounding from the day’s mounting complications. As I massaged my temples, I heard the maid protesting in the marble hallway.

"Felicia, you can’t just barge past security like that—"

"But I already have," Felicia announced, sweeping into the room with the theatrical flair she’d cultivated through years in our social circle. "Claire, darling, forgive the intrusion, but I have information you’ll find absolutely fascinating."

"Do I even want to know?" I sighed, bracing myself for another complication.

"It’s about your ex-husband." That caught my attention immediately.

"You’ll never guess where I saw him today," Felicia teased, drawing out the suspense with the skill of a practiced gossip.

"Just tell me, woman!" My patience had completely evaporated under the weight of federal investigations and family conspiracies.

"Nathaniel was at the family mausoleum with Beckett and that lawyer, Katarina," she revealed triumphantly.

"And why should that concern me?"

"They were exhuming a grave."

My blood froze instantly in my veins. This couldn’t be happening after so many years of careful cover-ups.

"Why would they disturb the dead?" I asked, sinking into a chair as my legs weakened with the implications.

"I’m not sure. I only know they transferred the remains to the private ossuary. They weren’t alone—two forensic specialists accompanied them."

"But why move those remains now? It makes no sense after all these years." I was barely listening anymore, lost in my own spiraling thoughts about what evidence might have been preserved.

"I don’t know the details. I had to leave quickly after that vicious Katarina threatened to have security remove me forcibly. Can you imagine such treatment?"

I stared at Felicia, occasionally entertaining similar violent impulses myself when dealing with her intrusions.

"Felicia, dear, you’ve caught me at a terrible time. I need to handle some urgent family business," I said, attempting politeness while internally calculating damage control.

"Where to? I’ll join you!" she offered, completely oblivious to the boundaries that governed our dangerous world.

"Private family business involving Nathaniel and Beckett, I’m afraid. But I’ll visit you later this week," I promised, guiding her firmly toward the secured exit.

After Felicia finally departed through our electronic gates, I stood frozen in my palatial sitting room, my mind racing through decades of carefully buried secrets. Why were they disturbing that particular grave? I needed to discover what they’d uncovered. They couldn’t possibly be unearthing the past—not now, not when I was so close to securing everything I’d worked for through years of manipulation and murder.