Ch73 - The result

At a café overlooking a postcard-perfect view, Claire sat poised as if relaxed, but the two empty coffee cups on the table and her constant checking of the time betrayed the tension coiled inside her. According to schedule, the DNA report should have arrived by now. 

Fifteen minutes late, her assistant finally rushed in, breathless, and handed her the envelope. Claire dismissed him with a flick of her fingers and began to tear open the seal, unaware that her hands were trembling.

The report slipped out inch by inch. Her eyes darted straight to the conclusion.

“No biological relationship detected.”

She scanned it again. There it was—bold, undeniable: 0.00% probability of kinship.

Claire’s breath hitched. For a second she froze, stunned by how far this result was from what she had feared. Then her lungs finally released, and the tight wire inside her snapped loose. So she had been overthinking. Violet wasn’t Josef’s granddaughter. 

Claire set the report aside with a careless motion and gazed toward the snowy mountains. At last, the weight pressing on her chest lifted.

Not long after, a car approached. Her husband and son had come looking for her.

Before the car even stopped, Matteo jumped out, visibly tense. “Mom—so, is Violet my cousin?”

Claire’s brows knitted sharply. “Where did you hear that?”

“You told me to get her DNA. Isn’t that what we were checking?”

Claire patted his shoulder, smiling lightly. “Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t have a cousin. You’re your grandfather’s only grandchild, so relax—everything of his will be yours.”

Matteo let out an unsure “Oh,” but didn’t press further. Her certainty silenced him.

“But why are you back so early? Finished your lessons with your grandfather already?”

“I… lied and said my stomach hurt so I could leave.” Matteo shot her a guilty look.

Claire, surprisingly, didn’t scold him or insist he return. “Forget it. You’ve worked hard these past two days. And your grandfather said you did well. He liked your design sketch too—said that after Christmas, you can start working at the company.”

Matteo brightened. “If I did well… can we go home early?”

Claire tossed the folded report to Laurent as he stepped out of the car. “Call your father. Tell him we’re going back to Geneva now.”

“So soon?” Laurent was taken aback—pleasantly surprised, but curious why his wife who insisted on staying suddenly changed her mind. One glance at the report answered everything. With no threat to their position, her anxiety had vanished.

Matteo leaned over for a look. “Oh, so there really isn’t any blood relation.”

“That’s enough. Don’t waste time staring at something useless. Go pack your things—we’re leaving.” Claire didn’t want to stay another second in this town.

“Yes! My baby—my cars, my yacht—I’m coming home!” Matteo cheered, bouncing away toward the hotel.

——

Josef’s lessons with Violet had reached their final day. He asked her to wait a moment, then opened the safe beside him and retrieved a tightly sealed box. Violet followed his movements with curiosity. “What is it now? Another treasure for me to see?”

Over the past few days, she had already seen enough rare pieces to confirm Edward’s claim: Josef’s private collection rivals a museum. She fully expected him to pull out another vintage artifact. Instead, he placed a brand-new presentation box in front of her.

The company logo was embossed on top. She tilted her head. “Is this one of your brand’s new releases?”

Josef shook his head gently, his expression warm. “No. Go on—open it.”

She placed her hands on both sides of the box and slowly lifted the lid. A watch appeared—one she knew far too well. Her lips parted slightly as she froze, unsure how to react. 

It was the same model as the watch Julian had given her: one of the twenty-two limited editions in the world. This one was also champagne-gold, the case identical at first glance… yet something about it felt different.

She tried to reason it out. “Is this… a prototype? It looks a little different from mine. The engraving on the caseback is deeper, more like handwork.”

“You’re very sharp,” Josef said with a soft chuckle. “And if you have one yourself, then Julian must have given it to you. I know every single customer who ordered this piece.”

“Mm… yes.” Violet looked more closely, fingertips running lightly over the watch as though it were fragile. “You must have poured a lot of love into making this.”

“You’re right. This is likely the last completely hand-made watch I’ll ever build. I created it for my granddaughter’s twenty-second birthday—and for myself, I suppose. A final marker.”

Violet wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but when he mentioned his granddaughter, Josef’s eyes dimmed. Curiosity tugged at her. “Why didn’t she come with her parents this time? I thought Matteo was an only child.”

She had heard from Edward that Josef had only one son—Laurent—and automatically assumed the granddaughter must be his daughter.

Josef understood the misunderstanding. “She wasn’t my son’s child. She was my daughter’s.”

The reason he chose to show Violet the prototype today wasn’t just because the latest search for his missing granddaughter in England had once again yielded nothing. It was because, after all these years, perhaps it was finally time to let go.

Twelve years ago, when news of Charlotte’s death reached him, he had practically dragged his failing body onto the flight to England. His daughter and son-in-law had died in a car accident. He forced himself to stay strong because there was still a child—Charlotte’s daughter, his granddaughter—who needed him.

But when he arrived at the hospital, he was told she too had succumbed to her injuries. The devastation struck so hard he could barely breathe. All he could think was how foolishly stubborn he had been. 

When Charlotte asked to visit him with her husband and child, he should have said yes. He shouldn’t have clung to pointless pride, shouldn’t have uttered those cruel words—that he would never acknowledge her husband or her daughter.

He had driven her away. She hadn’t come alone as he demanded. And the next time he saw her… there was a body between them.

Regret and grief were useless. He had believed there would be time—years of time—yet disaster came in a single instant, without leaving him even a heartbeat to make things right.

Later on, Josef’s most trusted aide, Bastien, pointed out something odd to him: the girl he saw in the morgue might not have been his granddaughter at all. The blood type didn’t match. How could parents with type A and type O blood have a child who was type B? That single inconsistency lit a spark of hope in Josef’s heart.

After digging into the matter, he traced a lead to an orphanage that might have taken his granddaughter in years ago. But by the time he found it, a fire had already swept through the building, reducing every record to ash.

Josef fell into despair again, though he never stopped searching. He poured money and manpower into combing through England, tracking down every adoptee who was the right age. Whenever a lead surfaced, he flew to England himself—only to return empty-handed each time.

This year was no different. He had begun to think the heavens were punishing him, forcing him to carry his guilt all the way to the grave. He was old now, his body no longer cooperating; perhaps it was time to give up.

Josef was unusually sentimental today. He didn’t intend to show it—but when he glanced across the table and saw Violet gently running her fingers over the watch, it felt as if he were witnessing his own granddaughter receiving the birthday gift he had built for her with his own hands.

In its own way, it felt like a wish finally half-fulfilled.

He drifted for a moment, and during that lapse he heard Violet casually ask, “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask—what does the ‘V’ on the back of the watch stand for? I noticed it ages ago. It’s not your brand’s initial, right?”

Josef’s smile carried a trace of sorrow. “It stands for my granddaughter’s name. Violet. Yes—she had the same name as you.”

“Oh wow, what a coincidence! Same age, same name!”

Josef’s expression froze. The shift was instant.

“What?” he blurted, almost involuntarily.

“I said, I’m twenty-two as well. I wonder what your granddaughter looks like. It’d be fun to be friends with her…” Violet’s eyes sparkled, blissfully unaware of what she had just stepped into.

Josef’s entire back went rigid. The hand resting on the table curled slowly into a fist. His throat tightened as if something were lodged there. He swallowed once and asked quietly, “Your… your parents. What were their names?”

He had heard her mention before that her mother was French, but faced with a coincidence this sharp, Josef couldn’t stop himself. Even if it ended like every other disappointment, he had to ask.

“They weren’t anyone special—just regular people. Oh… I never told you. They passed away a long time ago.” Violet gave a small, wistful smile. So much time had passed that speaking of them brought only soft longing. When she lifted her head, she stopped short.

Josef’s eyes were shimmering—thin, fragile, almost wet.

His trembling hand braced against the table as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. Step by step he came toward her, and she found herself unconsciously following his movement with her gaze.

His wrinkled hand closed firmly around hers. “Child… was your mother’s name perhaps Charlotte?”

Violet froze in place.