Chapter 9: The Price of an Heir
By midnight, I had stopped pretending that the Mercer family was simply a wealthy family with too many secrets.
It was a machine.
A machine that had been operating for decades, swallowing people's identities, manipulating records, and treating children like assets.
And now Camille was missing.
At 12:18 a.m., Beatrix called.
"We've found the clinic.""
I sat upright.
"Where?""
"Northbridge Private Medical Center. It's outside the city. The facility is registered under a holding company connected to Mercer Family Ventures.""
"Is Camille there?""
"We have reason to believe she was admitted this evening.""
"Can we go?""
"We can request a welfare check. We cannot simply enter private medical records without authorization.""
I grabbed my coat.
"Then request it.""
Beatrix paused.
"Evelyn, I also spoke with the investigator handling the financial audit.""
"And?""
"The forged authorization documents are now being treated as suspected financial fraud. The bank has placed a temporary hold on the disputed transfer.""
I closed my eyes.
"Good.""
"There's something else. Roland has filed an application to recognize himself as the baby's intended legal parent.""
"Can he do that while Camille is missing?""
"He can file an application. That doesn't mean it will be approved.""
I stood.
"Then we need to stop him.""
"We're working on it.""
An hour later, I was sitting in Beatrix's car outside Northbridge Medical Center.
The building looked more like a private hotel than a hospital.
Its glass entrance was illuminated by soft golden lights. A security guard stood beside the reception desk.
Alistair was already there.
He paced near the entrance, repeatedly checking his phone.
When he saw me, he approached.
"Thank God.""
"Have you seen Camille?""
"No.""
"Have you spoken to Roland?""
"He's inside.""
I looked through the glass.
"How long?""
"Since nine.""
"Does he know you're here?""
"Yes. He told security not to let me in.""
I turned toward Beatrix.
She was speaking with a woman in a dark coat.
The woman introduced herself as Detective Harris.
"Ms. Hayes?""
"Yes.""
"We've received your concerns regarding Ms. Laurent's welfare. We're attempting to establish whether she's here voluntarily and whether she has access to independent medical care.""
Alistair stepped forward.
"She's carrying my child.""
The detective looked at him.
"Are you the biological father?""
"Yes.""
"Do you have documentation?""
He nodded and showed her the DNA report.
She examined it.
"All right. We'll make inquiries.""
A few minutes later, a nurse came through the entrance.
"Are you Mr. Mercer?""
Alistair nodded.
"Which one?"" she asked.
He hesitated.
"Alistair.""
She looked at the detective.
"Ms. Laurent has requested to see him.""
Alistair immediately moved toward the entrance.
The nurse stopped him.
"Just one person. Please follow me.""
He disappeared inside.
I waited.
Ten minutes.
Twenty.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
"Evelyn Hayes?""
"Yes.""
"This is Dr. Warren, the attending physician. Ms. Laurent has asked me to speak with you.""
"Is she all right?""
"She's stable. However, she's under considerable stress.""
"Can I see her?""
"She has specifically requested your presence.""
I looked at Beatrix.
She nodded.
The nurse escorted me upstairs.
Camille was lying in a private room, wearing a pale hospital gown.
Her face was swollen from crying.
The moment she saw me, she turned away.
"I didn't ask you to come.""
"Your doctor did.""
She closed her eyes.
"Of course.""
I pulled a chair beside the bed.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered, "Alistair told you.""
"Yes.""
She began crying again.
"Roland says he's protecting me.""
"From what?""
"From the scandal.""
I stared at her.
"Camille, he had you brought here without telling anyone where you were.""
"He said it was temporary.""
"Did you agree?""
She looked at me.
"No.""
My hands tightened.
"Then why are you still here?""
She turned her face toward the window.
"Because he has my passport, my phone, and the documents I signed.""
I felt cold.
"What documents?""
"A custody agreement. And a financial agreement.""
"Did you understand them?""
She shook her head.
"He said they were just formalities.""
I closed my eyes.
"Camille.""
"I know.""
"No, I don't think you do.""
She began sobbing.
"I didn't think he'd actually take the baby.""
I leaned forward.
"Why did you agree to this in the first place?""
She looked at me.
"Because I wanted everything you had.""
The honesty startled me.
She continued.
"You had the Mercer name. You had the house. You had Roland. You had the trust.""
I stared at her.
"I didn't have Roland.""
She flinched.
"I know that now.""
"You watched me destroy myself trying to have his child.""
Camille covered her face.
"I know.""
"You held my hand while you were sleeping with his brother.""
"I know.""
"And you sent me that invitation.""
She began crying harder.
"I wanted you to feel what I felt.""
I frowned.
"What did you feel?""
"Second best.""
I stared at her.
She lowered her hands.
"Roland promised me he would marry me. But even after you divorced, he kept comparing us. He said you were more elegant.
More intelligent. That your family connections made you useful.""
I almost laughed.
"So you thought humiliating me would make him love you?""
She said nothing.
I stood.
"Camille, you didn't win anything.""
She reached for my hand.
"Please.""
I stepped back.
"What?""
"Help me.""
I looked at her.
"Why should I?""
"Because I don't want him taking my baby.""
For the first time, I saw genuine fear in her eyes.
Not jealousy.
Not ambition.
Fear.
I sat down again.
"Then tell me everything.""
She took a shaky breath.
"Roland has a private agreement with his father. Once the baby is born, they intend to register him as Roland's child. Graham has arranged for a legal representative to challenge my parental capacity.""
"On what grounds?""
"They say I'm unstable. That I've been taking medication. That I'm financially irresponsible.""
"Is any of that true?""
"I've been taking prescribed medication for anxiety.""
"Does Roland know?""
"He arranged the appointments.""
I stared at her.
"He arranged them?""
She nodded.
"He wanted the records.""
My stomach tightened.
"To use against you?""
She began crying.
"He said it would make everything easier.""
I looked toward the door.
"Did you sign the custody agreement?""
"Yes.""
"Did you have independent legal advice?""
"No.""
Beatrix entered the room.
She had been listening from the doorway.
"Ms. Laurent, I need to ask you something. Did anyone threaten you or prevent you from leaving this facility?""
Camille nodded.
"Roland told the staff I was not allowed to leave without his permission.""
The detective stepped closer.
"That is something we need to investigate.""
Camille looked at her.
"Can you help me?""
"We can ensure your safety and investigate any unlawful restrictions. Your legal rights regarding the child will need to be addressed separately.""
Camille looked at me.
"Will you help me?""
I hesitated.
I wanted to hate her.
Part of me still did.
But I remembered the woman who had sat beside me during those hospital appointments.
The woman who had pretended to comfort me while destroying my marriage.
I couldn't forgive her.
But I wasn't going to let Roland use a child as another weapon.
"I'll make sure you get independent legal representation," I said.
Camille began crying.
"Thank you.""
"Don't thank me yet.""
She nodded.
"I'll tell you everything.""
She reached beneath her pillow and pulled out a small folded paper.
"Roland gave me this.""
I opened it.
It was a copy of the custody agreement.
At the bottom, beneath the signatures, was an additional clause.
In the event of the mother's incapacity, guardianship would transfer to a named family trustee.
I read the name.
*Graham Mercer.*
I looked at Beatrix.
"Can they do this?""
"Not simply because they've written it into an agreement. We need to review the circumstances under which it was signed.""
Camille suddenly grabbed my wrist.
"There's something else.""
"What?""
She swallowed.
"Roland told me the baby wasn't going to be raised at the estate.""
I frowned.
"Where?""
"At a private residence. Somewhere in the countryside.""
"Why?""
She looked terrified.
"Because the child would be raised under a different identity until the trust transfer was completed.""
My blood ran cold.
"Different identity?""
She nodded.
"He said the baby would be safer if nobody knew who his biological father was.""
I looked at Beatrix.
This was no longer simply a succession dispute.
It was a plan to separate a mother from her child and manipulate the child's identity.
The detective took the agreement.
"We'll need a copy of this immediately.""
Camille nodded.
Then she looked at me.
"There's one more thing.""
I waited.
"Roland knows about your grandmother.""
I felt my stomach drop.
"What?""
"He found out she was alive yesterday.""
"How?""
"I don't know. But he told Graham that Margaret had become a problem.""
Beatrix stepped closer.
"Did he say anything else?""
Camille nodded.
"He said they needed to find your mother before you did.""
I couldn't move.
"My mother?""
Camille looked at me.
"Yes.""
"Did he say where she was?""
She shook her head.
"But he mentioned a place called Rosewood.""
The address from my grandmother's old notebook.
I looked at Beatrix.
"We need to go there.""
She nodded.
But before we could leave, Camille grabbed my hand again.
"Evelyn.""
I turned.
Her voice was barely audible.
"There's a reason Roland is so desperate to claim this baby.""
I stared at her.
"What reason?""
She looked toward the door.
Then whispered:
"Because Graham isn't the only Mercer man whose DNA is connected to the inheritance.""
I felt my heart pound.
"What do you mean?""
Camille's eyes filled with tears.
"Roland isn't Graham's biological son.""
Silence.
I stared at her.
"Then who is?""
She shook her head.
"I don't know. But Roland found out last month.""
My mind raced.
The forged documents.
The hidden birth records.
My own birth certificate.
The missing mother.
The family succession clause.
Everything suddenly seemed connected.
And then Camille said the words that changed everything.
"Roland believes the baby is the only biological grandson Graham has.""
I looked at her stomach.
Then at the custody agreement.
If Roland wasn't Graham's biological son, the baby couldn't be Graham's biological grandson through Roland.
But the child was Alistair's.
And Alistair was Graham's younger son.
Which meant Graham's claim made no sense.
Unless there was something else.
Unless Alistair wasn't Graham's biological son either.
I looked at Beatrix.
She was already reading the agreement again.
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
Rosewood Lane. House 17. Come alone.
A second message followed.
Your mother is waiting.
May you like
And a final message appeared.
But don't tell Graham that you know who your real father is.
