Eliana

My fingers trembling as they grazed the thick bandages hidden beneath my oversized sweater. A burning pain flared through my abdomen.

It had only been seven days since the nephrectomy. Seven days since they cut me open and took my left kidney to save my husband’s life.

"Are you still doing that, Eliana?"

I flinched. My mother-in-law, Carmen, stood in the doorway of the kitchen, her arms crossed over her designer dress. Her lips were curled in a tight, disapproving sneer.

"I was just catching my breath, Carmen.”

"Oh, Eliana, please don't tell me you are still on that descanso nonsense," Carmen snapped, rolling her dark eyes.

"You act as if you are the only woman in the world who has ever had a medical procedure. You are just haciendo el vago lazing around!"

"They took an organ from my body," I whispered, the sting of her words hurting more than my physical stitches. "I gave Miguel my kidney. The doctor said I need bed rest."

"The doctor doesn't run this household," Carmen fired back, taking a step closer. "And you should be grateful my son even allowed you to be his donor. It justifies this ridiculous arranged marriage of yours. Now hurry up. We have important guests arriving tonight."

"Guests?"

"Tonight? But I can barely stand."

Carmen’s smile was thin and cruel. "Yes. Everyone who matters is going to be present. Including Louisiana and her daughter."

At the mention of her daughter, Carmen’s face lit up. A genuine, bright smile broke across her strict features.

"Henrietta is coming?" I asked, my voice barely working.

"Yes, Henrietta," Carmen said proudly. "So don't tell me you want her to mock me? Is that what you want, mocosa? For my friend's daughter to see my son's wife acting like a weak, useless maid in my own home?"

"I am Miguel's wife," I said, though the words felt hollow on my tongue.

"Everyone is going to be there! Common, hurry up and set the table! Miguel will be home any minute, and I will not have you embarrassing this family!"

The front door opened.

Miguel was home.

I pushed off the counter, gritting my teeth against the sharo pull in my side, and forced myself to walk into the hallway.

Miguel stood by the door, loosening his silk tie. He looked immaculate, but the dark circles under his eyes showed his exhaustion.

"Miguel.”

"Welcome back."

I took a step forward, raising my arms slightly, desperately wanting to hug him.

Miguel simply brushed right past me, his shoulder clipping mine hard enough to make me stumble back.

"Don't crowd me, Eliana," his voice was like ice.

I dropped my arms, the humiliation burning my cheeks. "I just wanted to welcome you home."

"Can you heat and prepare the bath for me?" he demanded, walking toward the stairs. "And follow up on the investors for the Farma acquisition. I want the full reports on them printed and on my desk in ten minutes."

"Miguel," I pleaded, following him to the bottom of the staircase. "Your mother wants me to handle preparing the dining table. We have guests coming."

Miguel stopped on the first step. He slowly turned around, his dark cold eyes locking onto mine.

"So what!?"

I shrank back.

"Can't you handle all of it?" he demanded, glaring down at me as if I were a piece of dirt.

"Why do you always complain?"

"I'm not complaining.”

"I just... I can't be in two places at once. And my stitches are bleeding again."

"Stop using that as an excuse!" Miguel yelled, stepping back down until he was towering over me. "You gave up a kidney, Eliana, not your spine! You are the wife of a CEO, start acting like it instead of acting like a burden! I pay for your clothes, I put a roof over your head, and you can't even run a simple dinner?"

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. "I gave you my kidney because I love you."

"You did it because you want a payout," he sneered, his words slicing through my heart.

"Miguel, please," I choked out, desperately trying to reach him. "I was hoping we could go on a vacation. Just the two of us. We've been drifting apart lately, and we barely have time for each other anymore. We need to fix this."

Miguel let out a harsh, mocking laugh. It held absolutely no humor.

"A vacation? With you?" He looked me up and down with pure disgust. "You are barely tolerable in this house, Eliana. Why would I want to be trapped on an island with you crying and complaining about your pain all day? Do your job. Get my bath ready. Now."

He turned his back on me and walked up the stairs.

I stood there alone, a tear finally spilling over my lashes.

"Are you deaf?" Carmen hissed from the doorway. "Get to the kitchen!"

I forced myself to ignore the agonizing pain in my abdomen. I set the dining table with the finest crystal and silver. I arranged the centerpieces. I made sure Miguel’s bath was drawn exactly how he liked it.

By the time the doorbell rang, I was dizzy, pale, and sweating.

I stood in the corner of the dining room as Carmen opened the front door.

"Louisiana! Henrietta! Welcome!" Carmen cheered, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

Louisiana walked in first, dressed in diamonds. But it was Henrietta who caught my attention. She wore a tight red dress that hugged every single curve of her body. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, her lips painted a glossy crimson.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Miguel descended, dressed in a fresh black button-down shirt.

"Miguel!" Henrietta squealed.

I stopped breathing.

Miguel was smiling. It wasn't a smirk. It wasn't his usual arrogant grin. It was a massive, ear-to-ear smile that reached his dark eyes and transformed his entire face.

He rarely smiled at me that way. No, that was a lie. He had never smiled at me that way. It had been years since I had seen him look so incredibly, genuinely happy.

She shouldn't be making me feel this way, we were married. But I could barely ignore the crushing ache in my chest as Miguel walked straight past me and pulled Henrietta into a deep hug.

"You look beautiful, Henrietta," Miguel said, his voice soft and warm. A tone he never used with me.

"And you look as handsome as ever," Henrietta purred, placing her hand flat against his chest.

"Let us sit, the food is ready," Carmen announced, ushering them into the dining room.

They took their seats. Miguel sat at the head of the table. Henrietta sat immediately to his right. I was left standing by the wall.

"Eliana," Miguel snapped, the warmth vanishing from his voice instantly. "Bring the wine."

I grabbed the heavy bottle from the ice bucket, and walked over.

I poured Louisiana's glass, then Carmen's. When I reached Henrietta, my hand shook slightly. A single drop of red wine splashed onto the white tablecloth.

"Watch what you're doing, you clumsy idiot!" Miguel shouted, slamming his hand on the table.

I jumped, clutching the bottle to my chest. "I'm sorry, my hand just slipped"

"Are you blind?" Miguel insulted me loudly, clearly putting on a show for Henrietta. "You can't even pour a glass of wine correctly. You are completely useless."

"She lacks refinement, Miguel," Carmen chimed in, laughing cruelly. "What do you expect from someone with her background? She belongs in the kitchen, not at a dinner table."

Henrietta covered her mouth, giggling softly. "It must be so difficult for you, Miguel. Having to put up with such incompetence every single day."

"It's a nightmare," Miguel agreed, picking up his glass.

"Go to the kitchen, Eliana. Get the appetizers.”

My face burned with utter humiliation. They were treating me like the hired help.

"Yes, Miguel," I whispered, turning around and walking back to the kitchen.

I leaned against the cold refrigerator, pressing both hands against my side, trying to stop the tears from falling. I could hear them laughing in the dining room. I could hear Miguel's deep, rich laugh mixing with Henrietta's high-pitched giggles.

I stayed in the kitchen for a long time, plating the food, completely ignored by the family I had sacrificed my own body for.

"Excuse me, Carmen," I heard Henrietta's voice float down the hallway. "Could you point me to the restroom?"

"It's down the hall to the right, dear," Carmen replied.

"Actually, I'll show you," Miguel said instantly. I heard the scraping of his chair as he stood up. "The lights in the guest hall are acting up."

"Oh, my hero," Henrietta giggled.

I listened to their footsteps walk down the corridor.

Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen.

Carmen and Louisiana were chatting loudly in the dining room, completely unbothered that the host had disappeared with the guest.

A sickening feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

I wiped my hands on a towel, ignoring the screaming pain in my abdomen, and slowly walked out of the kitchen.

"Miguel?" I called out softly.

There was no answer.

I walked further down. The restroom door was wide open, and the lights were off. They weren't in there.

I kept walking toward the end of the hall, where Miguel's private study was located.

I approached slowly.

As I got closer, I heard a sound.

A soft, breathy moan.

"Miguel..." Henrietta's voice whispered from inside the room. It wasn't giggling anymore. It was desperate. Panting.

"You're driving me crazy," Miguel's rough, dark voice growled in response.

I couldn't breathe. The hallway started to spin.

Slowly, with a trembling hand, I reached out and placed my fingers flat against the wood of the study door.

I pushed it open and the entire world shattered into a million jagged pieces.

Eliana

Miguel had Henrietta pressed back against the edge of his massive desk. His hands gripped her waist tightly, and his face was buried deep in her neck. The straps of her tight red dress had slipped off her shoulders, leaving her skin flushed and exposed under the dim glow of the study lamp.

"Miguel," my voice broke. The word tore from my throat like shattered glass.

Miguel stopped.

"I explicitly told you to wait in the kitchen, Eliana," Miguel said. His voice was completely flat, as if I had merely interrupted a business call.

"You're my husband. How... how could you do this to me?"

"And you are a nuisance," he spat back, casually fixing the cuffs of his shirt.

Henrietta didn't even bother pulling her dress up. She stayed leaning against the desk, a wicked, triumphant smirk playing on her glossy lips as she looked me up and down.

"Oh, Eliana," Henrietta sighed, faking a sympathetic pout. "You really have terrible timing. You always ruin the mood."

"Get out," I whispered, the pain in my abdomen radiating into my chest, suffocating me.

"Get out of my house."

Miguel instantly stepped in front of her, shielding her from me.

"Don't you dare raise your voice at her," Miguel ordered, his tone deadly quiet. "You do not give orders in this house, Eliana. You do not own anything here."

"I am your wife!" I cried out, the tears finally spilling over my cheeks. I couldn't hold them back anymore. "I am your wife, Miguel! I gave you my kidney seven days ago! I was cut open for you! I laid in a hospital bed praying you would survive, and you're in here doing this?"

Miguel let out a dark, cruel laugh.

"Is that what you think this is?" he asked, taking a slow step toward me. "Do you honestly believe I married you for love?"

The air in my lungs vanished. "What are you talking about?"

"Look at you, Eliana," Miguel sneered, his eyes raking over my pale face, my messy hair, and my oversized sweater.

"You are entirely plain. You have no class, no influence. You bring absolutely nothing of value to my empire. You are a spare part, Eliana."

I stumbled back, my shoulder hitting the doorframe. "No..."

"My mother scoured the country for a perfect blood and tissue match when my kidneys started failing," Miguel stated coldly, looking at me as if I were nothing but a bad investment. "You were a broke, desperate girl with the exact biology I needed. That is the only reason the wedding happened."

"You planned this?" I sobbed, my entire world collapsing around me. The fairy tale, the stolen kisses, the late night promises all of it was a lie. "You used me?"

"It was a business transaction," Miguel said ruthlessly. "You got the title of a billionaire's wife. You got the clothes, the roof over your head, the illusion of importance. I got my health back. The transaction is complete."

"You're a monster," I choked out, wrapping my arms around my waist. "I loved you, Miguel."

"Your love is worthless to me," he replied without a single flicker of emotion. "It always has been."

"Miguel," Henrietta whined softly from behind him, tracing a perfectly manicured finger down his spine.

"She's scaring me. She looks crazy."

"It's alright, darling," Miguel said, his voice instantly softening. The gentleness in his tone broke what little was left of my heart. "She's leaving."

I turned and ran down the hallway.

Carmen and Louisiana were still sitting at the long table, sipping red wine and laughing. They stopped when I stumbled in, gasping for air with tears pouring down my face.

"What is the meaning of this?" Carmen snapped, slamming her glass down. "Where is Miguel? Why are you crying like a lunatic?"

"He's with her," I sobbed, pointing a shaking finger back toward the hallway. "Miguel and Henrietta! They were in the study! He was kissing her!"

I waited for the shock. I waited for Louisiana to stand up and defend her daughter's honor.

Instead, Carmen smiled.

"Actually," Carmen said, her voice dripping with poison, "I've been waiting for this goodness."

"What?" I breathed, my legs going weak.

"Oh, dear, did you really think my son loved you?" Carmen laughed, a harsh, grating sound. She exchanged a knowing look with Louisiana, who was also smiling. "Did you honestly think a man of Miguel's stature would settle for a street rat like you? We needed your kidney, Eliana. Nothing more."

"You knew?" I whispered, looking at Louisiana. "You knew your daughter was sleeping with a married man?"

"Henrietta isn't sleeping with a married man," Louisiana corrected, examining her diamond rings. "She's keeping her future husband company until the trash is taken out. Miguel and Henrietta have been promised to each other since they were teenagers."

"You're all sick," I cried, taking a step back. "You're all evil!"

Footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Henrietta walked into the dining room. Her dress was pulled up perfectly now, her hair smoothed down. She looked like an angel. A beautiful, wicked angel. Miguel was right behind her, his hands tucked casually into his pockets, his face an emotionless mask.

"Ah, there she is," Carmen said proudly. "Come sit, Henrietta."

Henrietta didn't go to the table. She walked straight toward me.

"What do you want?" I backed away, my back hitting the wooden edge of the sideboard.

"I just want to talk, Eliana," Henrietta said sweetly, her voice loud enough for the entire room to hear.

She stopped right in front of me, blocking me from Miguel's view. Her back was to the rest of the room.

She leaned in close. I could smell Miguel's expensive cologne on her skin.

"You really are pathetic," Henrietta whispered softly, so only I could hear. "He laughed at your body, you know. He told me you felt like a corpse."

"Shut up," I hissed.

"He's mine, Eliana," she whispered. "He always has been."

Before I could react, Henrietta's hand shot out.

She reached behind me onto the sideboard and grabbed the sharp, silver fruit knife resting next to the cheese platter.

My eyes went wide. "What are you doing?"

Without breaking eye contact, she gripped the blade tightly in her right hand and violently dragged it across her own left forearm.

A deep, brutal red line opened up on her pale skin. Blood immediately welled to the surface and dripped onto the floor.

I was too stunned to move. I just stared at the blood.

Then, Henrietta dropped the knife at my feet.

She threw her head back and let out a blood-curdling, terrified scream.

"Aaah! Stop! Eliana, please stop!" Henrietta shrieked, falling backward against the dining table, clutching her bleeding arm. "Someone help me! She's trying to kill me!"

Chaos erupted.

"Henrietta!" Miguel roared.

He moved faster than I had ever seen him move. He shoved me out of the way so hard I crashed into the wall.

"My baby!" Louisiana screamed, rushing out of her chair.

"Miguel, she just grabbed the knife!" Henrietta sobbed hysterically, burying her face in his shirt. "She said if she couldn't have you, she'd kill me! I didn't do anything!"

"I've got you, it's a shallow cut, you're going to be okay.”

"Are you insane?!" Carmen shrieked, storming over and towering above me. "How could you be so cruel, Eliana?!"

"I didn't touch her!"

"She did it to herself! I swear to God, Miguel, she cut herself!"

"You psycho," Miguel growled.

"You did this out of pure jealousy. Because you know you will never, ever be half the woman she is."

"Miguel, please," I begged, coughing as a sharp pain shot up my throat. "She's lying. She dropped the knife at my feet."

"I saw you do it, you filthy liar!" Louisiana yelled. "I saw you grab the knife and slash my daughter!"

"She's unstable, Miguel," Carmen added, shaking her head in disgust. "The surgery must have broken whatever was left of her pathetic mind. Call the police. Have her arrested for attempted murder."

"No," Miguel said quietly. He stood up, leaving Henrietta in her mother's arms, and walked over to me.

He grabbed the collar of my sweater and hauled me halfway off the floor.

"You are going to pack whatever cheap trash you brought into this house, and you are going to walk out that front door," Miguel commanded, his face inches from mine.

"If I ever see your face again, if you ever come within a hundred feet of Henrietta, I will personally destroy you. Do you understand me?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He dropped me.

I was bleeding out on his floor, and he didn't even blink.

Miguel turned his back on me and knelt beside Henrietta, softly kissing her forehead as he checked the bandage on her arm. Carmen stood above me, crossing her arms, looking down at me like I was an insect waiting to be crushed.

Miguel didn't even look at me. "Get out, Eliana."

I looked at his broad back. I looked at the man I had sacrificed a part of my own body to save.

"I'm leaving," I said. Miguel paused slightly, perhaps surprised by the sudden lack of tears in my voice, but he didn't turn around.

"I will have my lawyers draft the separation agreement," Miguel dismissed me. "You will get nothing."

"Don't bother with a separation.”

"I want a divorce."

Eliana

The freezing rain outside the luxury shopping center pounded against the massive glass panels.

I didn't have a coat. I didn't have a bag. All I had was my phone clutched in my trembling hand and the few dollars left in my digital account. I just needed gauze. I needed extra-strength painkillers. I needed to stop the bleeding before I collapsed on the floor.

I turned the corner too quickly, my foot slipping slightly on the floor.

Thud.

I collided directly with a solid, broad chest. Two powerful, steady hands caught me by the upper arms, holding me upright with immense care.

"I’m so sorry," I gasped out, my voice cracking as I fought for breath, desperately trying to pull away out of sheer panic. "I’m so sorry, I didn't see you, I"

"Steady, child.”

I forced my eyes up. The man holding me was older, perhaps in his late fifties, dressed in a charcoal suit that screamed old money and absolute authority.

He didn't let go. Instead, his gaze froze on the right side of my neck, where my soaked sweater had stretched down, exposing my collarbone.

"Sir?" I whispered. "Please, I need to get to the chemist..."

The man didn't seem to hear me. His fingers tightened on my arms.

"The birthmark on your neck... how did you get it?"

I blinked through my tears, entirely confused. "What?"

"The crescent-shaped mark," he demanded.

"Right below your ear. How long has it been there?"

"I... I was born with it," I stammered.

"Please, sir….I…”

“What's your name, dear?"

"Eliana," I breathed, barely conscious.

"My daughter... my daughter had that exact mark. The identical shape.”

"I have to go," I whispered, panic rising again. I couldn't deal with a stranger's delusion right now. I was bleeding out.

"Please," the man said, his voice instantly turning from a command to a desperate plea. "Are you in a hurry? Can we talk outside for just a moment? I am not going to hurt you. I swear it on my life."

He didn't wait for me to answer. He kept a supportive arm firmly around my waist, absorbing most of my weight as he guided me toward the private, VIP exit of the shopping center. The security guards at the doors didn't look at us; they bowed deeply as we passed.

We stepped into the covered, private driveway.

"I know this is incredibly rude, and I promise I have a valid reason," the man said, turning me gently to face him.

Before I could protest, He waved his fingers through my damp hair, brushing a stray lock behind my ear. It felt like a paternal gesture, something I hadn't experienced in a lifetime. But as his hand pulled away, I noticed his fingers subtly retain a few strands of my hair that had caught in his signet ring.

He didn't hide it. He turned slightly toward a towering man dressed in a black suit standing precisely two steps behind him.

"See that you run it right away. Direct priority to the lab."

"Yes, Mr. Rekho," the guard responded instantly, bowing his head.

"Please, can we sit in the car?" the older man Rekho asked, turning back to me, his eyes searching my face with a terrifying intensity. "You are pale, Eliana. You are shivering."

"I shouldn't..." I began, turning my head toward the driveway.

And then, I gasped.

Standing in the center of the VIP lane was a vehicle that didn't look real. It was a sleek, midnight-black Macgrovani hyper-luxury sedan, custom-built, its carbon-fiber body gleaming under the security lights. A coach-built masterpiece worth about 500 million dollars. There were only three in existence globally.

What the hell? Who the hell was this man?

Before my brain could process the sheer absurdity of the wealth standing before me, my legs gave out completely.

"Eliana!" Rekho caught me before I hit the pavement.

Without a word, he lifted me effortlessly into his arms, ignoring the fact that my wet, blood-stained sweater was ruining his multi-thousand-dollar suit. He carried me directly into the back seat of the Macgrovani.

The moment the tension left my body, the dam broke.

A sob tore from my throat, violent and uncontrollable. I curled into myself on the wide leather seat, burying my face in my hands. The betrayal, the slaps from Carmen, Miguel's cold eyes, Henrietta’s bloody arm, the fact that I had given up a piece of my own body for a man who viewed me as a spare part it all crashed down on me at once.

Rekho simply pulled a thick, cashmere blanket over my shoulders and drew me into his side. He wrapped a strong, protective arm around me, letting me cry into his chest.

Somehow, unreasonably, I felt entirely safe in his arms.

"Let it out, child," Rekho murmured, his hand gently resting on my shoulder, deliberately avoiding my stomach as if he already knew I was fragile. "You're safe now. No one is going to touch you."

I told him about Miguel.

I must have drifted into a state of semi-consciousness, because the next thing I knew, the car had stopped. The door opened, and Rekho helped me step out.

I looked up, and my breath caught again.Miguel’s mansion look like a guest house. It was a massive, historic villa surrounded by high stone walls, towering gates, and immaculate gardens.

"Come," Rekho said softly, keeping his arm firmly around my waist as he led me through the grand double doors into a sprawling, marble-floored foyer.

A young man was sitting on a sofa in the center of the living room.

He was devastatingly handsome the kind of sharp, aristocratic beauty that looked straight out of a high-fashion luxury magazine. He had thick, dark hair brushed back, a sharp jawline covered in a shadow of stubble, and intense, grey eyes that were currently glued to a sleek silver laptop resting on his lap. He wore a crisp white shirt with the top three buttons undone, revealing a hint of his chest.

Rekho stopped abruptly in his tracks, his brow furrowing as he looked at the young man.

"Aren't you sick?" Rekho asked, his tone a mix of stern authority and genuine fatherly concern. "Why are you working?"

"I’m fine, father.”

His voice had a flawless british accent. He stood up, and I realized he was incredibly tall easily six foot three, with a powerful, athletic build that commanded the entire room.

Rekho let out a soft sigh, turning slightly to me. "I’m so sorry, dear. That is Craig, my son."

Craig finally turned his grey eyes toward us. He looked at his father, then his gaze slid over to me. His expression didn't change. It remained completely aloof, cold, and entirely unbothered. He looked at my soaked sweater, my pale face, and my blood-stained hands as if I were a piece of stray luggage his father had picked up on the road.

He completely ignored me. He didn't say hello. He didn't ask who I was.

"The security detail said you went to the commercial center," Craig said to his father, his British accent clipping the words perfectly. "I didn't realize you were bringing home company."

"We will discuss it later," Rekho said firmly. He turned to a head maid who had quickly appeared in the hall. "Martha, get her settled into the master suite immediately. Run a warm bath, prepare the finest linen, and have the doctor come up to check her side. She is injured."

"Right away, sir," Martha said, bowing.

"No, please," I protested weakly, taking a step back from Rekho. "I can't stay here. I don't even know you. I just need a cab to a motel"

"Eliana," Rekho said, his voice incredibly soft but unyielding. "Look at me. You are bleeding through your clothes. You have nowhere to go. Let my staff care for you tonight. You don't have to worry about anything. I promise."

"Thank you," I whispered.

.

The maid brought me to a room that was larger than my entire apartment. A massive king-sized bed with silk sheets sat in the center. A fire was already crackling in the hearth. Martha helped me into the adjoining marble bathroom, where a deep, steaming tub filled with lavender oils was waiting.

"I can handle it from here, thank you.”

She smiled warmly and left a pair of silk pajamas on the counter before stepping out.

I cleaned myself as best as I could without submerging the wound, the warm water soothing my aching muscles. After drying off, I wrapped a fresh, clean bandage from the medical kit Martha had left, then pulled on the oversized silk pajamas. They were incredibly soft against my bruised skin.

I stepped back into the bedroom, intending to climb into the bed and disappear into sleep.

Instead, I froze.

Craig was standing by the French doors leading to the balcony. He had a glass of amber liquid in his hand, swirling it slowly. The firelight cast long, sharp shadows across his aristocratic face.

My heart skipped a beat, a sudden rush of heat hitting my cheeks. "What... what are you doing in here?"

"My father told me everything.” I swallowed hard, clutching the silk fabric of my shirt tightly over my chest. "He shouldn't have. It's none of your business."

“Are you okay?”

"I don't need your pity, Craig," I said, my voice shaking as he got closer. I backed up until the back of my legs hit the edge of the mattress.

He didn't stop until he was standing directly in front of me. The scent of his expensive woodsmoke cologne and high-end liquor filled my senses, making my head spin. Up close, he was even more intimidating. His jaw was clenched, his eyes dark with a strange, simmering anger.

"I don't pity you, Eliana," Craig whispered, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned down slightly, bringing his face inches from mine."I find it utterly pathetic that a man was stupid enough to let a woman like you go."

"You don't know anything about my husband," I whispered, my voice barely a breath.

Bang.

Craig stepped back instantly, his mask of cold indifference slipping back over his face in a split second.

Rekho stood in the doorway. He was panting, his silver hair slightly disheveled, his hands trembling violently as he held a piece of white paper.

"Father?" Craig asked.

"The lab just called back," Rekho choked out, his voice breaking completely as he looked into my eyes. "The DNA test... it's a ninety-nine point nine percent match."

"You're my daughter," he cried. "Eliana... you're my long-lost daughter."