Chapter 4 - The Hidden Bloodline
The room felt suddenly devoid of oxygen.
Grant stared at the yellowed document, his fingers crushing the edges of the paper.
Child Name: Lily Rose Bennett.
Mother: Claire Elizabeth Bennett.
Father: Julian Whitmore.
Julian.
Grant’s younger brother. The brilliant, gentle scholar who had refused to enter the family business, choosing instead to teach literature at the university. The brother who had been murdered four years ago in an unsolved hit-and-run that Grant had spent millions trying to avenge.
Grant slowly lifted his head, his gaze locking onto Claire.
Claire was trembling violently now, backing away toward the sofa where Lily slept.
“You knew Julian,” Grant said, his voice remarkably calm, yet carrying a dangerous resonance.
Claire closed her eyes, tears spilling over her lashes. “I met him at the university library where I worked before I came here. He... he didn't tell me who his family was, Grant. He just called himself Julian. He was kind, quiet, and he loved books.”
She swallowed hard, clutching her hands against her chest.
“When he died... I was two months pregnant. I didn't know where to go. Then I found his hidden notebook in his apartment. It had your name, your address, and instructions to come here if anything ever happened to him. He wrote that his brother was a powerful man who would keep us safe, but warned me never to tell you unless it was a matter of life or death.”
“Why?” Grant demanded, standing up slowly. “Why keep my brother’s child hidden from me for three years?”
“Because Julian was terrified of your world!” Claire cried softly, looking at him with desperate eyes. “He didn't want his baby growing up around guns, guards, and bodyguards! He wanted her to have a normal life! So I applied for the housekeeper position under my maiden name. I just wanted to be near his home... to raise her safely where nobody would look for Julian Whitmore’s daughter!”
Grant looked from Claire to the sleeping little girl on the sofa.
The resemblance was there—striking and undeniable. The soft curl of her dark hair, the delicate shape of her nose. Lily was not just a housekeeper’s daughter who had tamed his dog.
She was a Whitmore. She was Julian’s blood. She was the last piece of his murdered brother left on earth.
Atlas let out a low whine, nudging Grant’s hand with his wet nose, as if sensing the overwhelming surge of emotion crashing through the hardened crime lord’s chest.
Grant rested his hand on Atlas’s massive head. His knuckles turned white.
“Roman Vance killed my brother,” Grant said, the realization settling into his soul with terrifying clarity. “Four years ago, Julian wasn't hit by a random drunk driver. Vance targeted him to break me.”
“And now Vance knows about Lily,” Dominic interjected quietly from the doorway.
Grant looked down at the note in the leather folder.
“Give me the southern docks and the shipping lines by Sunday, Grant, or I will put Julian’s daughter in the ground right beside him.”
Grant picked up the note, held it over the silver tray, and struck a match. He watched the paper burn to ash, his face illuminated by the flickering yellow flame.
“Dominic,” Grant said softly.
“Yes, boss?”
“Call every captain in the city. Tell them the war is no longer about territory.”
May you like
He turned toward Claire, stepping close to her, resting his large, warm hand gently on her shoulder.
“No one is touching this child,” Grant vowed, his voice an absolute oath. “And Roman Vance will not survive the week.”
