Page 161 of The Royal Art of Revenge

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“Well, it took him longer than twelve hours, but at least he did it.” Finn crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the side cabinet. “Is that really all your mum’s things?”

“I think so.” I run my gaze over the stack of boxes that have been brought up to our apartment. “Honestly, I’m amazed there’s this much. I thought he might have gotten rid of every last thing.”

“I don’t know. I’m hardly your father’s biggest fan, but he did love your mother once. He was devastated when she died, I remember that much.”

“Yeah, he loved her so much he had a whole second family with his mistress,” I reply bitterly. “And puts them above me at every given opportunity.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know. And I know you’re right. I do. I’m just bitter.” I smile weakly and walk away from the boxes. “I don’t think I’m ready to look in these just yet.”

Finn opens his arms, and I trudge across the room to him. I rest my body against his, and he wraps his arms around me, cradling the back of my head with his hand.

“That’s all right,” he says softly. “We can store them somewhere safe until you are. The main thing is that you have them now.”

I nod, briefly closing my eyes. He’s right. Everything that belonged to my mother is now mine. It’s safe. Nobody can touch it anymore. That’s all that matters. Even more than the trust fund. I’d hand over every penny in it if it meant keeping her possessions safe.

Even if Finn isn’t surprised that he kept anything that was hers, I am. I would have thought Rosalyn would have gone to town erasing every last bit of my mother, but I suppose my father was adamant about keeping her belongings.

I suppose I can respect him a little for that.

I take a deep breath and push away from Finn. “What now?”

“Your move, baby. We can let things continue as they are, or we can drop the bomb. Well, when we have it.”

“What proof do you even have?”

He clears his throat, rubbing his hand across his lips. “Are you going to be mad if I say I stole some of your hair?”

I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that.

“Uh, I’d say it depends why you stole it. Voodoo doll? Yeah, I’ll be pretty pissed. Help save mankind? Not so much.”

His lips tug to one side. “It occurred to Alec that there’s more than one way to prove Jasmine’s parentage, and one solution didn’t involve your father at all. We just need to prove that she’s related—”

“To me,” I finish, my body going still. “Our DNA will show a sibling match.”

“Exactly. A sibling match leaves three options: your parents had another child; your mother had an affair that Jasmine is the result of; or your father did.”

“Our ages are too close for it to be the first and Rosalyn would never let her daughter be linked to my mother that way,” I say softly. “Meaning it has to be my father.”

“And people will start digging. Oscar plans to gently sway them towards Rosalyn by pointing out the similarities in their appearance.”

“What about the DNA? How does that get released? What reason is there to test me and Jasmine?”

“That’s our current stumbling block,” he admits, tapping his toes against the floor. “Although it turns out that Marina isn’t the only maid Alec has planted in that house, so we’re considering removing one of them. Apparently, Rosalyn is planning to let some of the staff go, so we’re considering having one get fired and do it off-the-record.”

“Won’t it hurt her?”

“No. Her identity will be kept secret, and she’ll merely be reassigned within Alec’s household. You don’t have to worry.”

I press my lips together. Easier said than done. “Are you sure? You were there when Marina said about the contracts they signed.”

“One hundred percent. Nothing will come back onto her, I promise.”

“But the con—”