Page 161 of Ruthless Claim

But Emma’s right. Brennan genes are strong. I grew up hearing stories about it, seeing proof of it in every family gathering.

Hell, my father and Connor could have been twins.

Every Brennan has a variation of auburn hair, a specific jaw structure…

Finn has none of it.

“There’s something else,” Emma says and I have to strain to hear it over the roaring in my ears. “There’s something odd about the way Claire watches you.”

“What do you mean?” I ask numbly.

Emma looks like she’s warring with herself before she makes a decision. “She doesn’t look at you like you’re her ex or Finn’s father. She looks at you like—like you’re a mark.”

“A mark?”

“I’ve seen that look before,” Emma says. “When someone is trying to get something from someone. It’s calculating. Assessing. She’s measuring how much she can push and what buttons to press to keep you hooked.”

I think about the way Claire had touched my arm. The way her eyes lit up when I mentioned the trust fund. The way she’d quickly backtracked about living together when Finn’s comment made her intentions too obvious.

You’re being played, Valentina had said.

She’s running a con, Emma is saying now.

And I, who had spent my entire adult life learning to spot deception, learning to read people, learning to see through manipulation tactics—I’d missed all of it because I’d been too consumed with guilt to see clearly.

“Fuck,” I say quietly.

“Yeah,” Emma agrees. “Fuck.”

We sit in silence. Seraphina stirs in her stroller, making a small noise, and Emma reaches down to rock it gently.

“Valentina asked me to get a second paternity test,” I say. “I told her I’d think about it.”

“And?” Emma looks too eager. Did she put that idea in my wife’s mind?

“And I’m thinking about it.”

Emma’s expression softens slightly. “You really care about her, don’t you? Valentina, I mean.”

“I love her,” I say, and it’s the first time I’ve admitted it out loud to anyone other than Valentina herself. “I love her and I’m destroying what we have because I’m too fucking hardheaded and proud to admit I might be wrong.”

“Then stop being proud,” Emma says. “Get the second test. Hire an investigator. Someone independent who can follow the money trail and find out who’s really behind this.”

“You think there’s someone behind this?”

“I know there is,” Emma says confidently. “That first paternity test came back too fast. The whole situation is too convenient. Someone is pulling strings, and they did it specifically to destroy your marriage to Valentina. The question is why.”

“I need to call Valentina,” I suddenly say, a desperate need to hear her voice. I move to get up, but Emma jerks me back.

“Settle down, lover boy. You need to apologize to Valentina,” she orders. “Then you need to fix this mess. In that order.”

“She might not take my call,” I say glumly, remembering how our last interaction went down.

“She’ll take it,” Emma says confidently. “She’s angry and hurt, but she loves you. Otherwise she wouldn’t be fighting so hard to make you see the truth.”

I pull out my phone and stare at it, my thumb hovering over Valentina’s name.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Emma says, standing up and preparing to leave with the stroller. “When you call her, don’t lead with excuses.” She fixes me with a flat look. “Don’t try to justify what you did or explain why you didn’t listen. Just tell her she was right and you were wrong. Everything else can come after.”