The Forged DNA Report: My Stepdaughter Exposed the Truth at My Billionaire Husband's Estate

The Cellphone in Victoria’s Purse

The police had barely closed the doors behind Victoria when Alexander’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing. It was a text from an unknown number, and it was addressed to him.

“Your wife isn’t the only one who’s been lying to you. Check the safe in her dressing room.”

Aria looked up at him, her eyes still red. “Papa? What is it?”

Alexander exchanged a glance with the head of his security team, a grizzled man named Marcus. “Stay with her,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

He strode out of the library, his footsteps echoing on the marble floors. Victoria’s dressing room was a shrine to her vanity — silk robes, designer shoes, and a wall of perfume bottles. But at the back of her closet, behind a rack of evening gowns, was a small wall safe.

Alexander punched in the code he had seen her use once, months ago. The door swung open, revealing a stack of documents, a burner phone, and a USB drive.

He picked up the USB drive and carried it to his study, where his personal computer hummed in the dim light. He plugged it in and opened the files.

What he found made his blood run cold.

There were emails — hundreds of them — between Victoria and a man named Richard Calloway, her former boyfriend. They were planning this. Not just the fake DNA test, but a full takeover of the Blackwood estate.

They had forged a new will, one that left everything to Victoria in the event of Alexander’s “accidental death.” They had even hired a private investigator to dig up dirt on his business partners.

But the most damning file was a video. It was dated three years ago, and it showed Victoria meeting with a known forger in a dingy office downtown. She was handing him a thick envelope of cash.

“I need it to look authentic,” she said on the recording. “People have to believe that child is not his.”

Alexander’s jaw tightened. He had been married to a monster.

He called Marcus. “Bring Aria to my study. And get the lawyers on the line. All of them.”

When Aria entered, she was still clutching the hospital card. Alexander knelt before her, his eyes softening for the first time that evening.

“Aria, baby, I need you to tell me everything. About the envelope. How did you get it?”

Aria sniffled. “The nice lady at the hospital gave it to me. She said my real momma wanted me to have it. She said if you ever got confused, I should show it to you.”

Alexander’s heart ached. His first wife, Elena, had died five years ago, and he had never fully recovered. But she had left a trail of breadcrumbs for their daughter, even from beyond the grave.

He pulled Aria into his arms, holding her tight. “You were so brave, sweetheart. So brave.”

But the danger was not over. Victoria might be in custody, but Richard Calloway was still out there. And if he got wind of what had happened, he might come after Aria.

Alexander called his lawyer, a sharp-eyed woman named Dana Whitfield. “I need a restraining order against Richard Calloway. And I need to know everything about him. Everything.”

Dana’s voice was grim. “I’m already on it. But there’s something you need to see.”

She sent him a file. It was a deed to a property in the Bahamas, purchased in Victoria’s name just last month. And attached to it was a ticket for a private flight — booked for the day after tomorrow.

“She was planning to flee,” Dana said. “With your money.”

Alexander’s eyes narrowed. “Not anymore.”

He spent the next two hours on the phone, freezing accounts, canceling credit cards, and contacting the authorities in the Bahamas. By the time he hung up, Victoria’s entire financial empire was in shambles.

But the real reckoning came the next morning, when Victoria’s lawyer arrived at the estate with a plea deal. She was offering to testify against Richard Calloway in exchange for a reduced sentence.

Alexander listened, his face impassive. Then he said, “Tell her I’ll think about it.”

But he had no intention of letting her off easy. Not after what she had tried to do to Aria.

He looked down at his daughter, who was curled up on the sofa in his study, fast asleep with the hospital card clutched to her chest. He had almost lost her. He had almost believed the lies.

And he knew, with a certainty that burned in his chest, that he would spend the rest of his life making it up to her.