For several seconds I thought Klaus was lying to protect Julian.
It would have been almost ordinary by Bennett standards.
A father taking blame away from his son.
A husband blaming an already-arrested wife.
One more rearrangement of responsibility.
“You expect me to believe Helga followed Peter that night?”
“She did.”
“Julian’s voice is on the recording.”
“Julian was in the car.”
“So they were together.”
“Yes.”
“Then he participated.”
Klaus looked down.
“I didn’t say otherwise.”
I held the receiver tighter.
“Start at the beginning.”
He gave a tired smile.
“There is no beginning with families like ours.”
“Try.”
He looked through the glass.
“Peter came to me with the DNA test.”
“How did you react?”
“Badly.”
“You denied him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“My father was still alive.”
“The man who created the trust.”
“Yes.”
“If Peter was recognized, what happened?”
“The succession structure became uncertain.”
“Meaning Julian might lose the company.”
“Meaning everything might become litigation.”
I almost laughed.
“Your family committed crimes for years to avoid litigation.”
Klaus did not disagree.
“What did Helga want?”
“Peter silenced.”
My stomach tightened.
“How?”
“At first, money.”
“He refused.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“She told Julian to recover the research evidence.”
“And Julian followed Peter.”
“Yes.”
“What happened the night he died?”
Klaus looked toward the guard.
Then back to me.
“Helga drove. Julian was with her.”
“Why?”
“She told him they were going to talk to Peter.”
“Did Julian know she might hurt him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Convenient.”
“It is the truth.”
“No. It is the part of the truth you can survive admitting.”
His eyes hardened.
“You sound like your father.”
The sentence stopped me.
“You knew him.”
“Yes.”
“How well?”
“Better than you would like.”
My pulse changed.
“My father was investigating you.”
“He was also negotiating with me.”
“For what?”
“Protection.”
I stared at Klaus.
“Whose?”
“Yours.”
The room seemed suddenly cold.
“My father never told me any of this.”
“He wanted to keep you outside it.”
“He wrote me a warning.”
“After Peter died.”
“What did you threaten him with?”
Klaus leaned back.
“I didn’t.”
“Helga?”
“No.”
“Julian?”
“No.”
“Then what protection?”
Klaus looked exhausted.
“Samuel came to me after Peter’s death. He had enough evidence to destroy the foundation.”
“Why didn’t he?”
“Because Peter was dead.”
“That should have made him more determined.”
“It did.”
“Then?”
“He believed Helga caused the crash.”
“He was right.”
“He could not prove it.”
“He had Peter’s recordings.”
“Not all of them.”
My fingers tightened.
“What did you do?”
“I offered him access to internal records.”
“In exchange for silence?”
“In exchange for time.”
“That is silence.”
“Yes.”
I hated his willingness to admit things now that denial no longer helped.
“What did my father agree to?”
“Nothing at first.”
“Then?”
“He discovered something in Peter’s retained samples.”
“What?”
Klaus paused.
“A cardiac mutation.”
My mind went immediately to Noah.
The murmur.
The oxygen desaturation.
“What mutation?”
“One associated with congenital cardiac abnormalities.”
My mouth went dry.
“Did Peter know?”
“No.”
“Did my father?”
“He identified it during an ethics review.”
“And Noah inherited it?”
“We don’t know.”
“You knew there was a risk and still used Peter’s specimen.”
“I didn’t choose the specimen.”
“Helga did.”
“Yes.”
My anger sharpened.
“Why would she knowingly create a child with a genetic risk?”
“She may not have known.”
“You did.”
“Years later.”
“Explain.”
Klaus rubbed his forehead.
“Samuel believed the retained research material had to be destroyed. I agreed.”
“Did you destroy it?”
“I ordered it.”
“But Helga kept Peter’s.”
“I discovered that much later.”
“How much later?”
“After Julian married you.”
My stomach tightened.
“And my father?”
“He wanted Peter’s family notified about the mutation.”
“Was Sophie told?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Peter was dead. The finding was preliminary.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Klaus looked away.
“Samuel intended to tell Anneliese.”
“Did he?”
“I don’t know.”
My father had died of cancer three years after Peter.
Perhaps he ran out of time.
Or perhaps the Bennetts took it from him in another way.
“Why was Julian chosen to marry me?”
Klaus became still.
At last.
The question he had hoped I would not reach.
“Helga thought Samuel had hidden evidence with you.”
“I didn’t know it existed.”
“She didn’t believe that.”
“So she sent Julian.”
“Yes.”
The word hollowed something inside me.
“Did Julian know why?”
“At first.”
I stared at him.
“He approached me deliberately.”
“Yes.”
“The gala?”
“Helga knew you would attend.”
“The spilled champagne?”
“I don’t know.”
“He told me we met by chance.”
“It wasn’t chance.”
Every early memory shifted.
Julian offering me his handkerchief after a waiter splashed my dress.
Julian recognizing my father’s name.
Julian saying he had admired Samuel Hartwell’s medical work.
Julian asking about my childhood.
My books.
My mother.
My father’s belongings.
He had been searching me while pretending to learn me.
“Did he ever love me?”
Klaus looked almost uncomfortable.
“That is not a question I can answer.”
“You can.”
“I think he did.”
The answer hurt more than no.
Because love had not stopped him.
“What was he supposed to find?”
“Peter’s evidence.”
“He found the bank key.”
“Yes.”
“He and Helga impersonated me.”
“I learned afterward.”
“And once they stole the envelope?”
“They thought the matter was finished.”
“But my father left the microSD card.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t know.”
“No.”
“Then why stay married to me?”
Klaus’s mouth tightened.
“Ask Julian.”
I wanted to reach through the glass.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“No.”
“You think handing me pieces makes you less guilty.”
“I know exactly what I am guilty of.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
His voice broke for the first time.
“I abandoned my son.”
Peter.
Not Julian.
The distinction was unmistakable.
“I let Peter grow up believing another man was his father because acknowledging him would have cost me money and reputation.”
Klaus swallowed.
“Then when he came to me, I rejected him again.”
“And after he died?”
“I paid.”
“What?”
“The police officer.”
My body went still.
“What police officer?”
“The one who handled the crash investigation.”
There it was.
The cover-up.
“You bribed him.”
“Yes.”
“To hide Helga’s involvement.”
“Yes.”
“And Julian’s.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“The rental-car report disappeared. Paint evidence was not followed. Witness statements were simplified.”
I could barely breathe.
“How much?”
“Fifty thousand.”
“Who arranged it?”
“I did.”
“My father knew?”
Klaus looked at me.
“He suspected.”
“Did he know you bribed police?”
“Eventually.”
“What did he do?”
“He confronted me.”
“And?”
“I gave him proof.”
I stared.
“Why would you incriminate yourself?”
“Because I wanted insurance against Helga.”
The Bennetts had kept evidence against one another like other families kept photographs.
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You gave it to my father.”
“Yes.”
“So it may be in his files.”
“Possibly.”
“Why didn’t Helga steal it from the bank?”
“She didn’t know I gave it to him.”
“What kind of proof?”
“A copy of the payment record and a recorded conversation with the officer.”
Ruiz would need that.
I reached for the call button.
Klaus stopped me.
“There is more.”
I waited.
“Samuel did not merely keep evidence.”
“What did he do?”
“He made a bargain.”
“With you?”
“Yes.”
“What bargain?”
“If anything happened to you, Claire, everything would be released.”
My skin prickled.
“Why would anything happen to me?”
“Because Helga had begun asking questions about you.”
“When?”
“After Samuel became ill.”
I felt sick.
My father had known Helga might target me years before Julian entered my life.
“Did he know Julian would approach me?”
“No.”
“But he suspected someone might.”
“Yes.”
“What did he make you promise?”
“That the Bennetts would leave you alone.”
I laughed.
The sound was ugly.
“You did a remarkable job.”
“I kept the promise until Samuel died.”
“No. You watched your son marry me as part of a plan.”
“I tried to stop Helga.”
“How?”
“I told Julian not to go.”
“But he went.”
“Yes.”
“And you welcomed me into your family.”
Klaus looked down.
“I thought once Julian found the evidence, it would end.”
Instead, the search became a marriage.
Then infertility.
Then embryos.
Then Noah.
One compromise had bred another until a child was stolen from a hospital and carried across the Atlantic at gunpoint.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because by then you loved him.”
“So?”
“And he loved you.”
Again that defense.
Love.
As if affection erased manipulation.
I stood.
Klaus lifted his receiver urgently.
“Claire.”
I looked at him.
“Helga did not plan Noah because of the trust alone.”
I sat again.
“What else?”
“She wanted Peter’s child.”
“Why?”
“Guilt.”
I stared.
“You expect me to believe guilt made her steal my egg?”
“Not healthy guilt.”
His expression was bleak.
“Helga believed Peter should have been the Bennett heir. After his death, she became obsessed with correcting what she called the broken line.”
“So she used Peter’s sperm.”
“Yes.”
“Why my egg?”
“Because of Samuel.”
I waited.
“She believed your father had failed Peter.”
“That is insane.”
“Yes.”
“She thought joining Peter’s genetics with Samuel’s daughter somehow repaired what both families had done.”
My stomach turned.
Noah had been conceived as a private act of symbolism.
A child built to satisfy Helga’s mythology.
“And Julian?”
“He thought the embryo was his.”
“He didn’t know?”
“Not until Ridgemont.”
That explained his reaction when he found the Canada documents and genetic report.
Julian had committed crimes believing Noah was biologically his.
Helga had deceived him too.
“Did Marta know?”
“Only that there was a specimen substitution. I don’t think Helga told her whose until later.”
I thought of Marta’s hospital disguise.
Her certainty.
Her panic aboard the plane.
Each person had been given exactly enough truth to perform the role Helga required.
“What does Helga know about the remaining embryo?”
Klaus’s expression changed.
“The frozen one?”
“Yes.”
He looked genuinely confused.
“I thought there were none left.”
My skin tightened.
“Julian requested access six months ago.”
“I didn’t know.”
“So Julian had another plan.”
Klaus shook his head.
“Maybe.”
I stood.
This time he did not stop me.
Ruiz met me outside.
“You heard?”
“Everything.”
“Find the police officer.”
“We already started.”
“And search my father’s remaining files.”
“We will.”
I leaned against the wall.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Julian may have acted independently regarding the second embryo.”
Ruiz frowned.
“Why?”
“Klaus didn’t know it survived.”
“And Helga?”
“We need to ask.”
Helga had refused most interviews since her arrest.
But when investigators told her the DNA results proved Peter was Noah’s father, she requested me.
Not her attorney.
Me.
I should have refused.
Instead, two hours later, I sat across from her through another sheet of reinforced glass.
Helga looked composed.
She lifted the phone.
I said nothing.
She spoke first.
In English.
“So you know.”
“I know Noah is Peter’s.”
Her eyes closed briefly.
“He looks like him?”
“He looks like Noah.”
She smiled faintly.
“You always were stubborn.”
“You killed Peter.”
The smile vanished.
“That is what Klaus says.”
“Peter’s recording places Julian in your car.”
“Julian was there.”
“Were you driving?”
Helga looked at me for a long time.
Then answered.
“Yes.”
“Did you hit his motorcycle?”
“I tried to make him stop.”
“By striking him with a car.”
“I misjudged the distance.”
“You killed him.”
“I did not intend to.”
“Then you covered it up.”
“Klaus did.”
“You let him.”
“Yes.”
“Then you kept Peter’s genetic material.”
Her expression changed.
“He should have had children.”
“That was not your decision.”
“No.”
“You used his sperm without consent.”
“Yes.”
“You used my egg without consent.”
“Yes.”
“You put Sophie through pregnancy without telling her she carried her brother’s child.”
Helga finally looked away.
“That part was unfortunate.”
I almost slammed the receiver against the glass.
“Unfortunate?”
“I could not tell her.”
“You could have done nothing.”
“No.”
The certainty frightened me.
“Why not?”
“Because Peter was the rightful Bennett son.”
“He wanted nothing to do with your company.”
“He was angry.”
“He was dead.”
Helga’s face tightened.
“You think I don’t know?”
For one second, grief stripped away the control.
Then it returned.
I asked, “Did you know about the remaining embryo?”
“Yes.”
My pulse jumped.
“Klaus didn’t.”
“Klaus knows very little.”
“Why did Julian request it?”
Helga smiled.
“That is the question you should be asking.”
“Answer it.”
“He wanted another carrier.”
The room seemed to narrow.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Julian stopped trusting me after Noah’s transfer.”
“Why?”
“He discovered I had altered the genetic plan.”
“When?”
“Not whose specimen. Only that I had changed something.”
“So he wanted the other embryo.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“To create what he called insurance.”
My stomach tightened.
“A second child.”
“Yes.”
“Where is the carrier?”
“I told you. I don’t know.”
“Was the embryo transferred?”
“No.”
“The clinic says it remains frozen.”
“Then perhaps Julian failed.”
Perhaps.
I stared at Helga.
She watched me carefully.
Then she said, “Unless he did not need that embryo.”
I stopped.
“What does that mean?”
“He kept samples of his own.”
“Sperm?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he use them?”
Helga leaned closer to the glass.
“I warned you, Claire. Julian does not accept losing.”
A cold realization moved through me.
Noah had not satisfied the trust because he was Peter’s biological child.
Julian had learned that at Ridgemont.
But if Julian had already arranged another pregnancy using his own genetic material, the trust deadline might still be alive.
“How long until Julian turns forty?”
“Eleven weeks.”
“And if another child is born before then?”
Helga’s expression told me everything.
“Who is pregnant?” I asked.
She said nothing.
“Who?”
Helga slowly lifted the receiver closer.
“Ask your sister.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 12: Helga Told Me to Ask My Sister About Julian’s Second Child, and One Phone Call Exposed a Betrayal I Never Suspected
At Dinner My Husband’s Family Switched to German, Certain I Couldn’t Understand What They Had Planned for Me
Part 11 of 20
