Chapter 1
“You hid my daughter’s bruises and my grandson’s name. You’re finished.”
Grant’s face changed before the last word left my mouth.
That interested me.
Not the bruises.
He expected me to notice those eventually.
The name frightened him.
Behind me, Isabella held Noah against her side while the remains of his paper flower lay beneath Vanessa’s heel. My grandson was still crying, but his eyes stayed fixed on Grant.
I turned toward Isabella.
“What does that mean?”
Her face went pale.
Grant pushed himself upright against the collapsed velvet cart.
“Nothing.”
I looked at him.
“I didn’t ask you.”
Isabella lowered her eyes.
That habit alone told me how long she had been trained to let him answer first.
“Noah’s name…” she whispered.
She stopped.
Vanessa cut in.
“She’s confused.”
I turned my head.
One look silenced her.
Then Noah spoke.
“Daddy says I’m not Lombardi at parties.”
The showroom went still.
I crouched in front of him.
“What does Daddy say you are?”
Noah looked at Grant.
Then at me.
“Hale.”
My jaw tightened.
He was a Hale through his father.
He was also Isabella Lombardi’s son.
My blood.
My grandson.
There was nothing wrong with either name.
So why hide one?
Isabella finally looked at me.
“Grant had Noah removed from the family guest lists.”
I stood slowly.
“When?”
“Eight months ago.”
“Why?”
She swallowed.
“He said Lombardi children inherit attention.”
Grant snapped:
“That is not what I said.”
Isabella flinched.
Noah did too.
I noticed both.
Then I looked at Grant.
“You’re afraid of a three-year-old being recognized as my grandson.”
May you like
His expression hardened.
And that was the moment I knew the bruises and the missing name belonged to the same plan.
