Chapter 29: The Duty Of The Heir (Book 3): Chapter 29

Spring City

I stride into the kitchen, my heart thumping in my chest after Duke’s call. Geneva’s there, her gaze lifting from her laptop. I can tell she’s as worried as I am.

‘Is he getting suspicious, do you think?’ Geneva’s voice is tense.

I sink into a chair opposite her. ‘I’m not sure,’ I admit, Duke’s uneasy tone replaying in my head. ‘He didn’t seem okay.’

Geneva’s fingers drum on the table, her concern palpable. ‘Poor Aisling,’ she says softly. ‘This is all too much for her.’

‘Yeah, it’s a lot to handle.’ I can’t help but agree. ‘She needs all the support we can give.’

Her brow creases. ‘What’s our next move? Should she confront him?’

‘No, not yet.’ I shake my head. We need to be smart about this. ‘We’ve got to be careful.’

‘Elena, we’re running out of time,’ she presses, urgency in her voice. ‘We can’t let it get to the fertilization stage.’

‘We have until Wednesday.’ I try to calm my racing thoughts, feeling the deadline looming.

‘That’s not far off,’ she points out, and she’s right.

‘We’ll work it out. But we’ve got to protect our insider too. She’s been invaluable. We can’t risk her job.’

Geneva’s eyes flick toward the bedrooms. ‘Is Aisling still asleep?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Where’s her phone?’ she wonders.

‘With her, turned off. That’s why he called the landline.’ I stand up, ready to go check on Aisling.

‘When will she talk to Heather?’ Geneva asks, concern lining her face.

‘She didn’t say.’ I know Aisling needs to face Heather soon. It’s important.

‘She needs to see her, like, now,’ she urges.

I exhale deeply. ‘I’ve told her that.’

She’s avoiding the truth about that woman. Won’t even glance at her picture. Why?’ Her face is a map of annoyance.

I lean against the counter, feeling the weight of the situation. ‘Aisling’s too tender-hearted for this. If she doesn’t want to know, that’s her choice,’ I say. She’s going through enough already.

She slumps back, her face a storm of disbelief and anger. ‘What’s he thinking? Fathering a child with someone who resembles his own wife?’

‘That’s a valid point,’ I admit, thoughts swirling about Duke’s motives. ‘There might be more to it.’

‘Is he planning to have Aisling raise this baby?’ Geneva’s voice is tinged with incredulity.

‘We need answers. It’s a possibility,’ I reply, a chill running through me at the thought.

‘Has he lost his mind?’ Geneva’s voice rises, laced with frustration.

‘Definitely,’ I say, feeling my own irritation grow. ‘My daughter won’t stand for this. Not from a mistress.’

‘That’s out of the question,’ she agrees.

‘No way.’

‘Think about it. If this woman gets pregnant, everything changes,’ she says, worry clouding her eyes.

‘I know,’ I respond, a sense of dread taking hold.

‘He’ll become all about the baby,’ she continues, her voice heavy. ‘He’s wanted a child for so long. It’ll change everything. We might not have any say.’

‘True.’

‘And if she’s pregnant, she becomes his priority. Their bond over the child… Aisling will become secondary. He might even move in with her.’ Geneva’s words cut deep, and I can’t help but sigh, feeling the sting of her predictions.

‘What’s Aisling’s plan?’ Geneva looks at me, searching for some sliver of hope.

‘She hasn’t shared anything. It’s all too fresh,’ I reply, my mind reeling from the implications.

‘But she’s not thinking of leaving…’ Geneva’s voice trails off, her face etched with concern, a mirror of my own turmoil. We’re both caught in this storm, desperate to help Aisling navigate this treacherous situation and stop Duke’s reckless behavior.

I quietly approach Aisling’s room and tap lightly on the door. After a brief pause, her soft voice invites me in. Pushing the door open, I find her on the bed, her gaze distant and hollow.

‘Morning?’ My voice is tentative.

‘Morning, Mum,’ she replies, her voice barely audible.

‘How are you feeling?’ I edge closer, my concern showing.

‘Better,’ is her simple response.

‘I spoke to him. Told him you were still sleeping.’

‘Okay,’ she murmurs, her face unreadable.

‘And he sounded worried,’ I add, trying to read her reaction.

But she just sits there, eerily calm, making my worry deepen.

‘He might start getting suspicious,’ I suggest softly.

‘It’s fine,’ she says emotionlessly.

‘We can’t let them know we’re onto them,’ I press on, thinking of the whistleblower we need to protect.

‘Why, Mum?’ She finally looks at me.

‘Because the whistleblower’s at risk. We need to keep her safe,’ I explain.

‘How would they find out?’ Aisling’s eyes narrow with worry.

‘They could investigate. It’s not hard.’

‘I understand.’

She stands up, her voice firm. ‘I’m going to shower.’

‘Are you going to the cafe today?’ I ask, hoping she’ll stay away.

‘Just for a bit.’

‘I don’t think you should go,’ I say, my fear for her safety speaking louder than anything else.

‘Why not?’ she challenges, a hint of defiance in her voice.

‘Because you’re not yourself.”

‘And you know this how?’ she asks, defensive.

‘Aisling, I’m your mother.’ My voice is gentle but firm.

She looks at me, a quiet strength in her eyes. ‘I’ve decided no more tears, Mum.’

‘I see that. And I’m proud.’

‘So, I’m okay. Don’t worry about me,’ she says, and there’s a strength in her words that reassures me, even as I worry.