Chapter 69

I scowl at the apartment building. “You could come with me to the office instead of this, you know.”

“You and I both know that if I go to your office with you, you won’t be getting any work done.”

I grin. “I fail to see the problem with that.”

Daphne leans over the console to kiss my cheek. “I’m going to hang out here at Hazel’s, show her the new ultrasounds. You’re going to go be the sexy, powerful, responsible CEO of Chekhov International.”

“I’d rather be irresponsible.”

“Be good, and I’ll reward you later.”

My scowl remains, but I scoop the back of Daphne’s neck and kiss her back. “Fine. You drive a hard bargain, but I accept.”

I slide out of the car and walk over to her side to help her out. Strongly independent as she is, we’ve reached the point in her pregnancy where getting in and out of vehicles is exhausting.

“Be good,” she reminds me as she takes my hand and emerges. “And I’ll wear that red nightie you got me.”

As she walks away, she flips up the hem of her skirt to give me the tiniest flash of ass cheek.

Fucking tease.

I think I love her.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?”

I have half a mind to chew out every last idiot of the main floor’s security team. The other half is reminding myself to not lay hands on the witch in front of me.

Brittany Cleary holds up a badge and feigns an apologetic shrug. “I snuck in. Made a copy before I left, actually, so you can relax and leave your poor security guards alone. They did their job.”

I yank the door open and point. “Get the fuck out.”

She grins at me, every bit the predatory cat stalking her mouse. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Get. Out.”

“I’m not here to play games, Pasha. You need to look at these⁠—”

“I said, Get the fuck out!”

“Look at them!” She throws a stack of papers on my desk. “Look at them and tell me you know exactly who you’re sleeping with!”

Were she anyone else, I might entertain the bait. But I know her reputation, her habits. This can only be yet another fucking scheme that leads to nowhere. So I march over to her, grab her elbow, and drag her to the door.

Brittany grabs one of the papers from the desk and shoves it against my chest. “She’s been lying to you! She’s a Hamish!”

That makes me pause.

My stomach turns when I look down at the crumpled paper. It’s a photo of Daphne in a cap and gown, smiling proudly at the camera and holding her diploma.

Next to her is Melanie, still in her teens with a mouth full of braces.

Behind them, hands resting on the girls’ shoulders, are Stewart and Ophelia.

“I didn’t pick up on the scam until we were closing out our files.” Brittany reaches for the scattered papers and straightens them. “The Hamishes have worked with Cleary Consulting for many years. When details started showing up in doubles… well, you can see my concern.”

“For all I know, this is Photoshopped. So no, I can’t.”

“I figured you’d say something like that.” She hands me the stack. “Here. Take a look and tell me I’m lying.”

I should call up security and have this woman thrown out. I should disregard everything she’s accusing Daphne of doing because this is such an obvious ploy to turn me against the mother of my child.

But as I skim over the top paper, then the next…

The evidence here is damning.

Daphne Hamish in a news article, standing with her parents.

Daphne and her parents, alongside Brittany and her parents, all smiling together at some school function.

School records, complete with copies of her student identification cards.

A name change record from the county recorder’s office. Hamish to Covington.

“She changed her name after the scandal with Melanie broke out.” Brittany sighs and leans against one of the chairs. “I thought she just wanted to distance herself from them, but…”

“But nothing. This means nothing.”

Brittany snorts. “Are you serious? Pasha, she’s clearly using you! They’re using you! They do it to everybody! Why do you think she’s so insistent on keeping the baby?”

I don’t want to believe any of this. I won’t.

“That is my child you’re speaking of. Watch yourself.”

She throws her hands up and nods in surrender. “You’re right. And I can honestly say that Daphne is probably telling you the truth, that you’re the father.”

“Stop talking, Brittany.”

“I’ve been sleeping with her boyfriend,” she admits shamelessly. “Her ex, I mean. I’m not proud of it, but it’s how I know he’s definitely not the father. And Daphne was always too loyal for her own good.”

“So then what’s the point of all this? She’s a far better woman than you. That’s not a surprise.”

I know I hit one of her buttons by saying that. It’s written all over her face. Brittany Cleary may think she’s gaining the upper hand by pretending like she’s reformed, throwing in little truths here and there, but she forgets who she’s speaking to.

I see right through her.

She folds her arms, glaring right back at me. “Don’t you think it’s a little too coincidental? All of your problems with this government contract starting right when you found out she was pregnant?”

I remain silent. I won’t give her the satisfaction.

“I bet other things have been happening, too. Run-ins with her parents. Shipments running late, personnel suddenly changing without notice. All since finding out about your baby. Probably escalated once she moved in. Am I right?”

Again, I refuse to answer her.

But fuck, maybe I should.

Because she’s onto something. Bringing that creeping sense of unease that’s been troubling me to the forefront.

My thoughts must be a little too transparent, because she smiles. “I’m right, aren’t I? I mean, it’s not your fault—and it may not even be hers so much. Her parents just know how to manipulate people to get what they want. She’s their good little girl who will do anything to make Mommy and Daddy happy.”

“Enough.” I grab my phone and send a text to Mak and Sofi. “You still haven’t answered my question. We’re through here.”

“She’s trying to get back with Conrad!” Brittany’s voice cracks. Tears well up. “I just found out, and… and I can’t let her keep doing this to people!”

“You just said she’s loyal.”

“She is! To her family. If they tell her to marry Conrad, she’ll do it. If they tell her to move in with you, she’ll do it. They’ve been trying to rearrange their wedding with his family this whole time, but I thought he’d reject them.” She sniffs. “He didn’t.”

I’m so glad my brother and sister don’t keep me waiting. I’ve had enough of this woman’s insane mood swings.

The second the door bursts open, I thrust my chin at Brittany. “Get her out of here. Make sure security knows to have her arrested if she ever shows her face here again.”

“Not a problem.” Sofi grabs Brittany’s arm and hauls her to the door. When the woman tries to protest and pull away, Sofi maneuvers both her arms behind her back and zipties her wrists together. “Move again, and I’m going to make this extremely uncomfortable for you.”

Mak and I watch them go into the elevator. He waits until the doors close before turning to me. “So, what did we miss?”

I don’t even know where to begin. I can’t—I won’t—believe any of it.

So why the hell does it bother me so much?

I head over to the wet bar. I need a fucking drink. “It seems we have reason to believe Daphne has been keeping secrets. Like the fact that she’s a Hamish.”

“Wait… like, Stewart Hamish? His daughter?” Mak’s face pales as it sinks in. “Oh… shit. Her sister. Her sister.”

I nod. Stare at the ice in the bucket. Wish I could plunge my head into it. “Daphne Covington is Daphne Hamish, Melanie Hamish’s sister. She changed her name.”

“I have to say, I don’t blame her. That family is a mess.” He slumps down onto the couch. “Oh my God. Everything makes so much sense now.” Looking up at me as he strokes his chin, he adds, “Mama was just mentioning Daphne’s family problems. I don’t know the details, but it sounds like Daphne publicly disowned them the other day.”

I am prone to believe someone who isn’t Brittany Cleary over… well, Brittany Cleary. And if Mama has information that clears Daphne’s side of things, even better.

But not everything can be waved away.

“Brittany said Daphne’s trying to get back with Ewing.”

Mak snorts so hard, spittle flies out. “Oh, come on. Do you actually believe that?”

I sigh and sip my bourbon. “No. I don’t.”

“Good. Because while I don’t know the details about the disowning thing, I do have the report from Dominik detailing how she stabbed Ewing in his good hand with a salad fork. Twice. I even have the security camera footage to prove it.”

“You’re just telling me this now?”

Mak rolls his eyes. “Was there a better time to do it?”

No. There really hasn’t been. I’ve been so caught up in making sure everything is meticulously arranged for my baby girl’s arrival. Things have slipped through the cracks.

“Get me everything you can on Daphne Hamish. Leave no stone unturned. By the time we’re done, I should know the song of her first dance recital.”

I’m suddenly very glad Daphne wanted to visit Hazel today.

It will make confronting her easier.

For once, I’d like to open a door and see someone or something that I actually want to see.

Today is not that day.

Because when I open the door to Hazel Ryan’s apartment complex, who do I see in the hallway?

Sidney Conrad Ewing…

Pinning Daphne Hamish to the wall with his face in her neck.

She was right, is all I can think. That crazy bitch, Brittany, was right.

My wife is trying to stab me in the back.