Chapter 502 - 98 Hair Evidence Theft

Chapter 502: Chapter 98 Hair Evidence Theft

Beckett’s POV

The idea of confirming my suspicions about Lila’s true parentage had been gnawing at me since my last conversation with Daniel about the family bloodlines. As the acting head of the Sullivan syndicate’s legitimate operations, I had access to resources most people could only dream of, but sometimes the most effective approach was the simplest one. Daniel had explained that we needed either a strand of Claire’s hair or something she’d drunk from for the DNA comparison. After weighing my options, I decided to handle this delicate family matter personally.

I rose before dawn and timed my arrival at Claire’s estate to coincide with her Sunday morning routine at the cathedral. The irony wasn’t lost on me that someone who’d built her position through deception and manipulation would spend hours kneeling in prayer. Perhaps playing the devoted parishioner was just another layer of the elaborate facade she’d constructed to maintain her standing in our circle.

"Beckett? This is unexpected," Tessa, the longtime housekeeper, greeted me at the ornate front door with visible nervousness. I rarely visited this place anymore, not since I’d taken control of the family’s operations and moved Lila to safer accommodations.

"Good morning, Tessa. Is Claire receiving visitors? I have some business to discuss with her."

"She’s at morning service at St. Catherine’s. Master Justin is still in his room, though."

"Of course he is," I muttered, stepping past her into the marble foyer. The house still reeked of Claire’s desperate attempts at old-world sophistication. "I’ll wait for her return."

Tessa wrung her hands anxiously. "She could be gone for quite some time, sir."

"That’s perfectly fine. I’m in no particular hurry." I made myself comfortable in the sitting room, noting how the imported furniture seemed to mock the family’s actual origins.

"Forgive me, Mr. Beckett, but Mrs. Claire gave specific instructions that you weren’t to be admitted to the house without her present."

"Did she now? Well, I’m already here, so that particular rule seems rather pointless. How about some coffee while I wait?"

Tessa’s face tightened with disapproval, but her position in this household didn’t allow for direct confrontation with family members. The moment she disappeared toward the kitchen, I moved with the calculated precision that had served me well in both legitimate business and family enforcement matters. Claire’s private suite was on the second floor, and I knew exactly where she kept her personal items. Her sterling silver hairbrush sat on the antique vanity, and I carefully collected several strands, securing them in a small evidence bag I’d brought. The whole operation took barely any time at all, and I was back downstairs before Tessa returned with the coffee service.

"Where did you go?" Her suspicious gaze darted between me and the staircase.

"The powder room. You seem unusually on edge about my presence here, Tessa," I observed, watching her mouth compress into a thin line of disapproval.

"You really should leave, Mr. Beckett. The mistress specifically said she didn’t want—"

"Yes, you’ve mentioned her preferences." I lifted the delicate china cup, took a deliberate sip, and made an exaggerated face of disgust. "This coffee is absolutely terrible. You know what? I’ve changed my mind about waiting. Tell Claire I stopped by."

As I headed toward the door, Tessa’s voice followed me with obvious relief. "Don’t come back here causing trouble!"

I smiled to myself. There wouldn’t be any need to return once I had the answers I was seeking.

Before reporting to the Thorne Group offices, I made a stop at our family’s private medical facility. Daniel had already arranged for a discreet DNA analysis through Dr. Reed, who’d been handling delicate matters for associated families for many years. The test kit containing Lila’s sample from her recent medical checkup was waiting, and all I needed to add were Claire’s hair follicles and a comparison sample from myself.

"Beckett, what brings you here this morning?" Dr. Reed looked up from his paperwork as I entered his consultation room.

"I need a few minutes of your time, Doctor."

In the privacy of his office, after renewed assurances about confidentiality and discretion, I handed him the sealed envelope containing all the necessary samples. He nodded gravely, understanding the implications without requiring detailed explanations. These weren’t the kind of results that could be trusted to standard laboratories or computer systems that might be monitored.

By the time I arrived at our downtown headquarters, I was running behind schedule, but punctuality seemed trivial compared to what I was trying to accomplish. Right on cue, as the lunch hour approached, Claire burst into my office like an avenging fury, her face contorted with the kind of rage that only came from wounded pride.

"What were you doing sneaking around my house like some common thief?" she demanded, her voice pitched high enough to carry through the reinforced walls.

"Just paying a social call, stepmother dear," I replied calmly, putting particular emphasis on the word ’step’ as I always did when addressing her.

"What did you really want there?"

I leaned back in my leather chair, projecting the kind of casual authority that came from actually running the family’s operations. "Nothing in particular. I simply felt like disrupting your morning routine. Judging by your current state, I’d say mission accomplished."

Her face darkened to a dangerous shade of crimson. "You insolent little bastard! You’ll regret crossing me. When I’m finished with you, you’ll be begging on street corners."

"No, Claire," I stood slowly, placing both palms flat on my mahogany desk in a gesture that had intimidated far more dangerous people than her. "You’re the one who’s going to have regrets—especially about how you’ve treated Lila all these years. Let me be crystal clear: you will never lay another finger on her. You won’t even be in the same room as her if I have anything to say about it."

She laughed, the sound dripping with venom and false confidence. "And exactly how do you plan to stop me? She’s MY daughter, you pathetic fool."

"Is she? Are you absolutely certain about that?" For just a moment, genuine fear flickered across her carefully maintained facade before she managed to regain her composure.

"Stay away from my house, Beckett. There’s nothing there for you anymore—not even your father lives there now, though he’ll be back soon enough, mark my words. But you—you’re never setting foot on my property again."

Something dangerous snapped inside me. I walked around the desk, took hold of her arm with just enough pressure to make my point clear, and began escorting her toward the exit. She fought and screeched like a cornered animal, but I maintained my grip as we crossed the building’s marble lobby with every employee watching the spectacle unfold. At the main entrance, I signaled for security to open the doors and firmly guided her outside onto the sidewalk.

"Don’t you dare come back to my building!" I called after her.

"This company belongs to MY children more than it does to you!" she shrieked back from the street.

"No, it doesn’t." I stepped closer to the threshold, lowering my voice to the tone I reserved for serious threats. "Justin has no legitimate claim here, and Lila will stand with me when the time comes. Crawl back to whatever hole spawned you, and don’t show your face here again."

"We’ll see who wins this war, Beckett," she hissed as the security doors closed between us.

I immediately instructed building security that Claire was permanently banned from the premises, and later informed our father that Justin wasn’t welcome in any of our facilities either. Dad simply nodded his understanding—he knew I was protecting the family’s true interests.