Chapter 8 - THE WAITRESS WEARING RAGS JUST INHERITED A $50 BILLION EMPIRE!
Eleanor’s heart slammed against her ribs. She pulled out her encrypted device, hastily entering her master clearance code to access the Vance Global secure bio-vault. The live DNA match report from the laboratory sample taken from Maya’s fallen hair strand just an hour ago flashed across the screen.
MATCH CONFIRMED: 99.9% PROBABILITY. RELATIONSHIP: DAUGHTER.
Eleanor let out a sharp breath, looking back at the phone. "The DNA is real! Maya is my biological daughter!"
"Oh, she is your daughter, alright," the voice on the phone laughed sinisterly. "But did you ever ask yourself... who is the other girl?"
Eleanor froze. "What other girl?"
"The girl Julian was supposed to marry," the voice purred. "You thought Chloe Sterling was just a mindless socialite? Why don't you ask Victoria Sterling who Chloe's real mother was before Victoria adopted her from a private clinic in Switzerland twenty years ago?"
Maya turned pale, looking at her mother. "Mother... Chloe...?"
"Victoria Sterling couldn't have children," Eleanor whispered, her brain connecting the horrific dots. "Arthur Vance... had twins!"
"Bingo!" the caller cackled. "Two baby girls born twenty-two years ago! You thought you only had one child, Eleanor! But Arthur stole BOTH of your twin daughters! He gave one to a poor orphanage—Maya—and he sold the other to the Sterlings—Chloe! He raised them on opposite ends of society, waiting for the day they would unknowingly destroy each other!"
The depth of the evil hit Eleanor like a physical blow. She gripped the window frame to steady herself. Chloe—the girl she had just humiliated, arrested, and bankrupt—was Maya's twin sister. Eleanor’s own flesh and blood.
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"Julian knew!" Maya gasped, her hands trembling. "Julian knew Chloe was my sister! That's why he targeted her! He wanted to marry my sister to steal the fortune, and kill me so there would be no other claimant!"
"And right now," the voice on the phone said, dropping all playfulness, "Chloe is sitting in the back of a police transport van... with a driver who works directly for me. In thirty seconds, that van will explode."
