Chapter Fifty Seven

Jake.

After Kyla says the words “That’s because she’s behind all this” the room goes still.

No more talking. No more air between us.

Just silence and truth, sitting there like a loaded gun between our knees.

Kyla doesn’t move, and neither do I. But my mind doesn’t stop. It can’t.

Amina.

Her name echoes in my head like a curse.

I start seeing everything, every smile, every soft word, every tear she shed in my arms over the years through a different lens.

Was any of it real?

The nights she held me when I broke down? The way she whispered that she loved me? The way she said she wanted to build a future, a family, a life?

Or was it all a performance, one long, twisted play she starred in while I stood there clapping for her, blind and stupid?

I can still remember the first night she moved in with me after Kyla’s supposed death. I was broken, empty. I didn’t want to live, didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to breathe. And she was there making food I didn’t touch, talking when I couldn’t answer, sitting beside me in silence.

I thought she understood my grief.

Now I realize she was feeding off it.

Every memory starts to rot from the inside out.

Even the way she used to talk about Ethan “our boy,” she would say, like he was the glue holding us together. The pride in her voice when she would tell people I was a good father. The way she always pulled him close when certain topics came up, when certain questions got too close.

My stomach twists painfully.

Ethan.

I have never doubted him. Not once. Not for a second. But now, If Amina could fake my wife’s death, erase her existence, lie about her being unfaithful, what else was she capable of?

The thought hits me like cold water.

What if Ethan isn’t mine?

I feel sick for even thinking it, but the doubt is there now, and it won’t go away.

Her timing, her manipulation, the way she always made sure I never looked too deep, never questioned too much.

She’s always been one step ahead.

Always.

And maybe she planned it that way from the start.

I stare at Kyla across the room. She’s quiet now, lost in her own thoughts, the weight of everything hanging between us. There’s a small part of me that wants to tell her to say what I’m thinking, to let her know how far the cracks really go but I can’t. Not yet.

Not until I’m sure.

I’ll have to find out the truth myself. Quietly. No one can know.

A DNA test.

It’s the only way.

If Amina lied about Kyla, if she lied about the twins, if she lied about everything then I need to know just how deep her lies run. And I can’t let her see me coming.

I take a deep breath and force my expression to stay neutral. “Kyla,” I say quietly.

She looks up at me, her eyes tired but still burning with determination. “Yeah?”

I swallow, pushing the thoughts back down where they can’t be seen. “I have called in some extra security.”

Her brows knit. “Security?”

I nod. “Two men I trust. Former agents. They will stake the house, keep an eye on things from outside. Discreet, but thorough. No one gets near this place without me knowing.”

Kyla studies me for a moment, searching my face, probably trying to read what I’m not saying. I keep my gaze steady.

“It’s for your safety,” I add. “Ours.”

She nods slowly. “Good.”

Neither of us says more after that. She stands, wrapping her arms around herself, and I can tell she’s barely holding it together. I want to go to her, to hold her, but there’s too much between us now too much broken, too much uncertain.

So I just stand there, watching her as she walks down the hall toward the guest room, her shadow slipping away around the corner.

And when she’s gone, I finally let the mask fall.

I lean against the wall, rubbing my temples, my mind spiraling again.

How many lies has Amina told me? How many truths has she buried under her smile?

For five years, I thought I had built something real, a family, a future, a reason to keep breathing. But maybe it was all a cage, carefully crafted to keep me from seeing what was right in front of me.

I exhale slowly, my voice breaking into the silence.

“She fooled me.”

But not anymore.

I pull my phone from my pocket, scrolling through my contacts until I find the private investigator I once used for business background checks a man who knows how to dig quietly, who doesn’t ask unnecessary questions. My thumb hovers over his name for a moment, then presses call.

When he answers, I keep my voice calm, low. “I need something done. Quietly. A DNA test. One adult male, one child.”

He asks if everything’s okay.

I almost laugh.

“No,” I say, glancing down the hall where Kyla disappeared. “But it will be.”

When I hang up, I look out the window at the dark yard beyond.

The night feels heavier than usual, full of eyes and whispers.

And somewhere out there, I know Amina is watching, still pretending, still weaving her lies.

But this time, I will be ready for her.

Because now, I finally know who I’m fighting. And she is not going to see me coming.

I will have to find out how deep all this goes before I confronted her.