You Want My Grandma’s $8 BILLION Inheritance DREAM ON! SCUMBAG, Watch Your Empire COLLAPSE Overnight! Chapter 08
The next morning, I went back to see Dr. Finch for my examination.
Blood work.
An ultrasound.
A full hormone panel.
While we waited for the results, Dr. Finch had me sit in her office.
As she reviewed the reports, her expression grew darker and darker.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“Your AMH is 0.1.”
She set the report down.
“Even lower than it was seven years ago. Both ovaries show significant atrophy, and your antral follicle count is zero.”
I listened to the numbers as though they belonged to someone else.
“Is there any hope?”
She was quiet for a long time.
“If this were natural ovarian failure, almost none.”
She paused.
“But if the damage was caused by medication…”
“There is a new ovarian function restoration therapy that completed Phase III clinical trials last year. It’s extremely expensive, the
—
treatment takes a long time, and the success rate is around thirty percent.”
“Thirty percent.”
“That’s right.”
I nodded.
“I’ll think about it.”
“There’s something else.”
She opened a drawer and handed me a document.
“This is my preliminary medical opinion. If you decide to pursue legal action, it can serve as supporting evidence.”
I accepted it.
The conclusion read:
The pattern of the patient’s ovarian deterioration is inconsistent with the natural progression of disease. There is a high likelihood that it was caused by exposure to external medication.
“Thank you, Dr. Finch.”
“Ms. Grant.”
She stopped me before I reached the door.
“Before you make any decisions…”
Her expression was unusually serious.
—
“Make sure you’re safe.”
I knew exactly what she meant.
A family capable of secretly drugging their own daughter-in-law for seven years…
Was capable of anything.
After leaving the hospital, I called Julian.
“Mr. Ward, I need you to investigate one more thing.”
“I’m listening.”
“I want to know where Diane purchased the ingredients for all those monthly tonics she had delivered to my house over the past seven years.”
“I’ll start immediately.”
“And prepare a complete inventory of every asset under my name.”
I paused.
“Include the accounts held under ‘Evie Sequence.’ I want everything organized and sent to me today.”
“Understood.”
After hanging up, I drove somewhere else.
The Langford estate in New York.
I parked at the end of the street but didn’t get out.
—
Through the windshield, I saw two children running around the yard.
A little boy and a little girl.
Twins.
About three years old.
The boy looked just like Alex.
The same eyes.
The same sharp features.
The little girl looked more like Sophia.
Gentle.
Sweet-faced.
Sophia sat on a swing in the yard, smiling as she watched the children play.
Sunlight fell across her face.
The scene looked almost painfully peaceful.
A moment later, Diane walked out of the house carrying a plate of sliced fruit.
She handed it to Sophia and said something.
Sophia stood up, accepted the plate with both hands, and answered respectfully.
Mother-in-law and daughter-in-law.
—
Children laughing around them.
A perfect family portrait.
Warm enough to belong in a painting.
And there had never been a place for me in it.
Not once.
I started the engine and drove away.
About ten minutes later, Rachel called.
“Evie, I’ve made progress on the New York waterfront redevelopment project.”
“Tell me.”
“When Langford Properties bid on the government contract, they submitted a Class A General Contractor’s license as part of their qualifications.”
“The problem is…”
“I searched the California Contractors State License Board database.”
“That license number doesn’t exist.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m positive.”
“It’s not in the database.”
My grip tightened around the steering wheel.
—
A fake contractor’s license.
Used to bid on a government project.
That was a federal felony.
“Rachel.”
I kept my voice steady.
“Sit on this for now. Don’t let anyone know.”
“I know.”
“I’ll wait for your signal.”
“Right.”
“Wait for my signal.”
I ended the call and stared at the red traffic light ahead.
Alexander Langford.
What you owed me…
Was far more than I’d ever imagined.
A fake marriage certificate.
A forged signature.
A bank fraud investigation.
Years of poisoning me.
A fabricated contractor’s license.
—
You thought your scheme was flawless.
But you forgot one thing.
You never really knew who I was.
The light turned green.
I pressed down on the accelerator.