Billionaire Pretends To Be A Janitor To Find True Love — But Discovers A Secret Hidden For 20 Years
Chapter 3
Alexander sat on the edge of his bed.
“Another child?”
Daniel nodded through the phone.
“Yes.”
“That’s impossible.”
“That’s what I said.”
Alexander stared at the wall.
His mother, Eleanor Hayes, had died twenty years earlier.
She had always been the gentlest person in his life.
She taught him to read.
She taught him to cook.
She taught him that money meant nothing if you couldn’t trust the people around you.
But there was one subject she never discussed.
Her life before Alexander.
The file had been discovered in his father’s private archives.
It contained a hospital record.
A birth certificate.
And a photograph.
The photograph showed Eleanor holding a newborn baby.
Alexander had never seen it.
Underneath the photograph was a handwritten sentence:
She must never know who she is.
Alexander’s stomach tightened.
“Who is the baby?”
Daniel replied,
“We don’t know.”
“Then find out.”
“I already started.”
“Who has the records?”
“Your father’s lawyer.”
Alexander stood.
“I’ll contact him.”
“You can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because your father is already looking.”
Alexander closed his eyes.
He didn’t want family drama.
Not now.
Not when he was beginning to care about Grace.
Then Daniel said,
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“The baby’s name.”
Alexander waited.
“Emma Miller.”
Alexander froze.
“Emma?”
“No.”
“Her name was Emma Miller.”
Alexander couldn’t breathe.
Grace’s last name was Miller.
He immediately thought of the small café.
Her smile.
Her story.
The broken engagement.
The woman he had started falling for.
There had to be another explanation.
There had to be.
He called Daniel back.
“Find the birth date.”
Daniel did.
He read it aloud.
Twenty years before Alexander’s birth.
Same hospital.
Same mother.
The same date listed in the family file.
Alexander sat down.
Grace wasn’t merely someone he liked.
She might be his half-sister.
The possibility was horrifying.
“Daniel,” he whispered.
“I’m here.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re not sure.”
He ended the call.
The next morning, he returned to work.
He saw Grace near the front desk.
She smiled.
“Morning, Alex.”
He smiled back.
“Morning.”
She looked closely at him.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You look pale.”
“Didn’t sleep.”
She laughed.
“You work too hard.”
Alexander wanted to tell her everything.
But he couldn’t.
Not yet.
At lunch, Grace asked,
“Want to walk outside?”
He nodded.
They walked through a small park behind the hotel.
Grace talked about her childhood.
She had grown up with her mother.
Her father had supposedly died before she was born.
She knew almost nothing about him.
“My mom never talked about him.”
Alexander stopped.
“Did she ever mention the Hayes family?”
Grace frowned.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Why would she?”
“Just asking.”
Grace studied him.
“What’s really going on?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
Alexander looked at her.
She was right.
“I’ve discovered something about my family.”
“What?”
“Something from twenty years ago.”
Grace’s expression changed.
“My mom died twenty years ago.”
Alexander’s heart slammed against his chest.
“Your mother?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
She gave him a date.
The same date as Eleanor Hayes’s death.
Alexander stopped walking.
Grace noticed.
“What?”
He shook his head.
“Nothing.”
But everything had changed.
That night, Daniel sent him the full records.
A hospital entry.
Eleanor Hayes had given birth to a daughter.
Her name was Emma.
The baby’s father was listed as unknown.
The next day, the baby was transferred to another hospital.
Then the record disappeared.
Alexander stared at the name.
Emma Miller.
Grace’s mother’s name had been Miller.
But that wasn’t enough.
He needed proof.
The next morning, Alexander met his father’s lawyer.
The old man placed a sealed folder on the table.
“This should never have been found.”
Alexander opened it.
Inside was a letter from Eleanor.
It was dated two days before her death.
My son,
There is something I could not tell you.
Your sister is alive.
Her name is Emma.
Her daughter may one day come looking for the truth.
Alexander read the sentence again.
Her daughter.
Not Emma herself.
His mother had a daughter.
And Grace was that daughter’s child.
Alexander wasn’t Grace’s brother.
He was her uncle.
But another line made his blood run cold.
Eleanor had written:
The family must never know what happened to Emma.
Alexander looked up.
“What happened to her?”
The lawyer shook his head.
“We don’t know.”
“Then find out.”
“We tried.”
“When?”
“Twenty years ago.”
Alexander closed the folder.
“Try again.”
Because if Grace’s mother was Alexander’s missing sister, Grace’s entire life had been built on a family secret.
And someone had wanted it hidden.
