Page 95 of Arran's Obsession

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she said.

Of course, the other shoe had to drop. The truth of whatever she was would come out.

“I talked to your staff about Cherry last night. I want to find out who killed her, and assuming it’s Don because he happened to be there isn’t enough. My gut feel is I need more information.”

I furrowed my brow, surprised. “I’m doing my own investigation.”

She entwined our fingers. “Can we compare notes when we’re ready? Between us, we might work it out.”

For a moment, I stayed quiet, the weird sense ofusshifting to something new. “Fine. Don’t do anything dangerous.”

“I won’t. There’s something else. I need you to help me find my dad. It’s not what you think,” she added quickly. “I’mnot planning anything or plotting against you. It’s for both our purposes. One because I need to know he’s okay, and two, I think he has information you’ll want.”

I scowled into the dark room. “What are you talking about?”

Genevieve turned to face me, my dick leaving her. I scowled more and pulled her leg over mine, but she paused me with a press to my chest, something meaningful in her eyes that I didn’t like at all. As if what she was about to say was dangerous.

“Back in your friends’ mansion, Cassie showed me a picture of a child. She said you were seeking them and had been for years. I recognised the photograph. Then when we returned, I realised where from.”

My breathing ceased. Shock froze me. There was no way.

Genevieve winced. “I just heard how that sounded in my head. That I’ve taken something deeply personal to you and made it into an opportunity for me. I haven’t. It’s true.”

My jaw worked, but I couldn’t form words, the coincidence too unlikely.

“It isn’t a trap,” she tried again but weakly.

“What does this have to do with your dad?” I managed, my tone hard.

“First, tell me who the child is to you.”

“My sister or brother. My mother had a second baby, a long time after me.”

She nodded, as if this was her conclusion from the backstory I’d had no idea she’d heard. “Dad had a girlfriend named Flora for a while. She had a kid. The child in your picture.”

Fuck. I lurched over her, imploring her with every cell in my body. “Don’t. Fucking don’t do this.”

“Jesus, Arran.” She grabbed my wrist. “Her toddler’s name was Addie. A little girl. Adelia. She was the same child as in your picture. Honest to God.”

A girl. My heart thundered, and I hunted for the lie in her eyes. If this was a trick, it was the cruellest she could ever have devised. The problem was in the name she’d given—I didn’t think she was playing me. Or maybe I just didn’t want to believe it.

Addie. Adelia.

She dug her nails into my skin. “In my dad’s room in our flat, there’s a picture of me with her. Dad took that photo. It’s all the proof you need.”

I released her. Sat back. “Kids all look the same. How can you be sure?”

“No, they don’t. I recognised her, and her dungarees.”

“Was he the father?”

“My dad? No. He can’t keep a secret to save his life. If Addie was his, he would’ve said. He and Flora weren’t together that long, but I know after they broke up, they kept hooking up for a few years. Then she moved away.”

“Where?”

“I’ve no idea, but Dad would know. They stayed in touch, even after her marriage. He was a shit boyfriend to Flora, to Mum, too, but loved them and stayed friends.” She watched me. “That’s why you need to find him as much as I do.”

I dropped down on the bed, my brain fucked up over this revelation. Hope was a terrible thing. It sidestepped reason and beckoned in betrayal. Yet this was the first clue I’d had since I’d found out the child existed.

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