CHAPTER 31
Nina walked out of the clinic in a daze.
She couldn’t even describe what she felt—confusion, shock, a raw, twisting ache…
Jasper had received an anonymous letter about his daughter’s whereabouts. At first Nina had thought he was joking. Seriously—everyone had abandoned that child, including her. Only four people had known her secret, counting herself.
Who would have taken care of Lynn? Who would have known exactly which infant group home she’d been sent to? But then… It turned out the letter hadn’t come right after Lynn’s birth, but three weeks before her mother died.
It had been her. Of course it had been her.
Her mother had been a gentle woman—she never would’ve left her granddaughter unprotected. Most likely she’d watched over the baby all that time. And when her illness worsened, when doctors gave her the grim prognosis, she made a desperate decision.
She’d done the most reckless thing—never knowing whether her plan would work. She told Jasper Garth that he had a daughter.
Dying, her mother made sure the little girl would be safe. She hadn’t told anyone. Not once had she hinted that she knew where the baby was. She’d kept it all a secret, and the reason was almost certainly Nina herself.
Her mother had known how much her daughter hurt—known that the child reminded her every single day of what Nina had gone through while pregnant. That was why she hadn’t said a word.
And telling Nina’s father? Asking him to show mercy to a newborn girl? That would’ve been useless.
So her mother had taken the risk alone.
Nina slid into a taxi, shut the door, and felt her whole body twist in on itself. A sob tore loose, sharp pain slashing through her chest. She’d held herself together in Jasper’s office, but the moment everything clicked into place, she’d gotten up and practically fled.
Losing her mother had broken her. They’d been impossibly close.
She had just given birth to Daphne then—her mother barely had time to hold her granddaughter. And still… even then, she’d been thinking about Nina.
Because she’d known that one day Nina would blame herself for what she’d done.
Because a mother’s heart already understood what it meant to have a child of your own…
The driver kept quiet, though Nina noticed him glancing at her in the rearview mirror. They slowed at a traffic light; he adjusted his cap, hesitated, and finally asked, softly, as if afraid to disturb her grief:
“Are you all right, miss?”
She wiped her tears with a shaky hand, trying to pull herself together.
It was useless. Nothing worked. But she still tried to force out something coherent.
“Sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling but controlled. “It’s just… my husband cheated. I just couldn't hold it in anymore.”
A lie.
An easy lie.
He was a stranger, and she didn’t want him thinking she was some unstable mess.
Though it wasn’t even fully untrue—her husband had cheated. Her tears simply belonged to something else entirely. The driver leaned back and nodded, like a man who’d seen this a hundred times.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” he said, his voice warm with simple human kindness. “If he cheated, he wasn’t worth you in the first place.”
She tried to smile, but it came out like a strangled breath.
He went on:
“You’re a beautiful woman. You’ll find happiness again, trust me. Women like you don’t end up alone.”
She closed her eyes.
His words—ordinary, shallow, not even touching the real depth of her hell—felt like a lifeline. Something to anchor her back to reality, even if just barely.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe happiness still existed somewhere ahead.
But right now it felt impossibly far away.
Like she was standing on the edge of a cliff and happiness was somewhere down below, hidden under dark, cold water.
***
On the way home she’d already cried out everything inside her.
Now there was only emptiness. And a dull, echoing ache.
She closed the door behind her and, still fully dressed, walked toward the mirror in the foyer.
Her reflection startled her. A tired, swollen face. Eyes red from tears.
She brushed her cheek with her fingertips as if she could wipe away the pain—but of course she couldn’t.
Nothing could wipe that away.
She sighed and headed toward the living room. And stopped dead.
Daphne sat curled up on the couch, crying. Her eyes were puffy, her nose red, her hair messy, her face pale.
“What on earth is going on?” Nina asked—her voice sharper than she intended. Pure shock.
Wasn’t Daphne supposed to be at college?
When had she even come into town?
Why hadn’t she called?
Daphne jerked her head up, her gaze latching onto her mother. The next second she shot to her feet and ran to her.
“Mom!” Her voice trembled, cracking. “Mom, I’m in shock!”
Every trace of Nina’s own pain, panic, exhaustion vanished in an instant. Her heart stalled.
What could’ve happened to her baby?
“Daphne… what happened?” Nina wrapped her arms around her, smoothing her back, trying to calm her down. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
The girl sobbed into her mother’s shoulder, then pulled away slowly, eyes shining with tears.
“You were right, Mom! I’m sorry!”
Nina’s entire body tensed. Something inside her twisted painfully.
“Right about what?”
Daphne let out a shaky breath, her hands trembling.
“Dad…” she whispered. “He told me to come home for break. I thought he just wanted to spend time with me. But then he said he wanted to introduce me to someone important…”
Nina’s pulse spiked.
“Someone?” she repeated carefully.
“I thought he meant Mr. Norton’s son,” Daphne rushed out. “You remember—I told you I liked him! I even asked Dad to maybe invite him somehow—” Her voice broke; she wiped her tears with a trembling hand. “But instead he…”
Nina felt her breath stutter.
Frank was capable of anything—she knew that far too well—but his own daughter?
“What did he do?” she asked, dread spreading cold through her veins.
Daphne met her eyes and the pain there made Nina want to scream.
“He introduced me to his son,” she whispered. “Mom… he’s five. He’s five years old.”
Nina froze.
A cold shock washed over her.
She knew about that boy already, Frank hadn’t hidden it well. The fact itself didn’t surprise her.
But the idea that he’d decided to introduce the children to each other?
That was a cruelty she hadn’t anticipated.
“He said he wants us to be friends,” Daphne choked out. “He said that boy is part of our family now. That I have to accept it.”
Nina inhaled slowly. She understood how hard this was for her daughter.
Daphne had always been the cherished one—the only child. She wasn’t used to sharing her father’s affection, his attention.
And it stung Nina more than she expected that what truly devastated her daughter wasn’t Frank’s cheating or lying… but the existence of another child.
As if Nina had somehow failed in raising her, failed to teach her that love wasn’t a competition.
“No, sweetheart. You don’t have to accept anything,” Nina said firmly, meeting her daughter’s eyes.
Daphne sniffed hard, her fists clenching around the hem of her sweater.
“And Vivian…” she continued, voice trembling with bitterness, “she said he’s the heir now. That Dad would do anything for him. And that now… now I don’t matter anymore.”
Nina closed her eyes for a second.
Of course. Vivian.
How she hated that woman.
“She’s lying,” Nina said, her voice cold and certain. “You’re Frank Osborne’s daughter. His blood. His family. Nothing can change that. Ever. But be careful around that woman, Daphne. She’s manipulative, and she’ll twist your father against us if you let her.”
Daphne nodded, though fear still flickered in her eyes—the fear of a world cracking apart beneath her feet, where truth and lies tangled into something impossible to separate.
Nina wanted to shield her from all of it.
But how, when she herself was drowning in the same mess?
“And when I confronted Dad, do you know what he did?” Daphne’s voice jumped to a near-hysterical pitch. “He cut my card limit! By ten times, Mom! So I guess they matter more to him than I do!”
She spoke calmly, but firmly:
“Take a breath, sweetheart. Go wash your face,” she said softly. “I’ll make us some tea, and we’ll sit down and talk about everything, okay? We’ll get through this. I promise.”
Daphne nodded quickly and hurried into the bathroom.
Nina stood there for another moment, watching her disappear, her hands curling into fists.
How could Frank possibly think this was a “good idea”?
Did he actually expect Daphne to embrace his mistress and his five-year-old son with open arms?
She moved to the kitchen and set the kettle on, but her hands wouldn’t stop trembling.
She tried to steady herself — failed.
Maybe she shouldn’t call him.
Maybe she should just handle this quietly.
But the moment the thought of Daphne’s tear-streaked face flickered in her mind, she grabbed her phone and dialed Frank.
That bastard could do whatever he wanted to her.
But he wasn’t allowed to hurt their daughter.
To her surprise, he actually picked up. After tonight she wasn’t sure he’d even bother.
“What is it, Nina?” he asked, his voice tired, irritated.
Probably Vivian had been gnawing at him nonstop after being humiliated at the gala.
“Frank, what the hell is going on?” Her voice cracked with fury.
Enough. She’d taken enough. Been quiet long enough.
“Nina,” he replied evenly, coldly, “didn’t we agree to handle things without unnecessary emotions?”
Her jaw clenched. He was always calm, always so damn collected.
And that only made her want to scream.
“Agreed?” she laughed bitterly. “Then explain to me, Frank, what exactly you think you’re doing. How could you do that to Daphne? She’s already hurting, and you—”
He cut in smoothly:
“What exactly did I do?”
There it was. His usual tactic.
Force her to spell out the obvious so he could twist it against her.
“Why did you introduce our daughter to your mistress?” she shot back.
“And then take her side? You cut Daphne’s card limit because she didn’t welcome your new family?
Because she refused to celebrate your affair?
” Her voice sharpened. “Fantastic job. Now she thinks your new son matters more to you than she does. Are you trying to hurt her? Is this your way of showing she’s disposable now?
This is between you and me, Frank — but leave our daughter out of it.
She’s not mine. She’s ours. Ours, for God’s sake.
And I’m asking you to consider her feelings for once.
Or did Vivian whisper something to you that made you ready to throw your own daughter under the bus?
Punish her just because she refuses to accept your new reality? ”
Silence.
She could almost hear him thinking, calculating.
“This isn’t punishment, Nina,” he finally said. “It’s parenting. Daphne’s growing up. She needs to understand that life isn’t an endless stream of spending. I won’t always be there to make decisions for her.”
“Parenting?” Nina froze. “You’re calling it parenting — cutting her off right after she finds out you have another child? She cried the entire night, Frank. She’s terrified you don’t love her anymore.”
Another long pause. His favorite weapon.
“Nina,” he said, voice softening just a fraction — but still cold, “you always dramatize everything. Daphne is my daughter. Her place in my life is unquestionable. But she needs to understand there are other people in the world. And sometimes she has to accept them.”
She sucked in a breath to keep from screaming.
“She has to accept Vivian? Your child with your mistress? Are you serious? How can you expect her to swallow that, Frank? Do you even understand the pain you caused her?”
“Daphne’s a big girl. She’ll understand. Eventually.”
“Eventually?” Her voice trembled with rage.
“I’m thinking about the future, Nina,” he snapped. “About raising independent children who can navigate the world. She’ll thank me one day. And she will have to accept that I have another child — a child I love just as much as her.”
Nina fell quiet.
Something heavy settled in her chest.
“She adored you, Frank. More than anyone. And now you’ve dragged her into adult problems she had no business facing. Don’t be this harsh. She’s still a kid. Sensitive and na?ve.”
“She’ll always be my daughter. She’ll sulk for a day or two and come back. I pay for her college, her housing — everything. She doesn’t have much of a choice. Either she becomes part of my new family, where there’s no place for you— or…”
The rest he didn’t say.
He didn’t need to.
“Someday you’ll pay for this, Frank,” she whispered. “But by then it’ll be too late to ask forgiveness.”
She hung up. There was no point in continuing. Vivian had wrapped him around her finger so tightly he was ready to discard his own daughter.
“M… Mom?” came a soft voice behind her. “Was that you talking to Dad?”
She spun around. Daphne stood just a few steps away — Nina hadn’t even heard her come in.
She pulled herself together quickly.
“Yes,” she said. “And in case you haven’t realized it yet, Daphne — your father froze every account connected to us, and those rumors in the press? That’s him too. He has a new family now, and he couldn’t care less about us. Be grateful he didn’t take the house.”
Daphne stared at her, pale, trembling.
“So please,” Nina continued firmly, “go back to college after break, keep your head down, and stay out of his line of fire. If he invites you over, tell him you have exams or deadlines. It’s better for you to stay away right now.”
Her tone was harsh — harsh enough that Daphne blinked in confusion — but Nina needed her to understand the truth.
To see clearly what her father had become.
And, deep inside, Nina trembled at another thought entirely:
what if Frank and Vivian managed to turn Daphne against her?
They had the power.
They had the influence.
And they had already proven they had no conscience.