The Blackwoods

Chapter 25: Blackwoods

Beatrice put down the newspaper. "Finally, some good news," she muttered and glanced at Henry.

After a few minutes, Vanesa entered the living room.

"Daddy, is that bitch really your daughter?!"

Henry looked her up and down and let a long sigh out.

"She is," Beatrice replied.

"What?"

"But how did you know that?" Henry gave her a glare.

"Because the person I've hired to get information from came back to me before the press did."

Henry folded the documents and slapped them down on the table.

"How could you even dare to have a child with her?"

Henry shifted uncomfortably, looking away.

"Well? You've ruined this family's name. The press—they're eating us alive, Henry."

Vanesa stumbled back. "So it is true?"

Henry rubbed his temples, sighing deeply. "Yes, Vanessa. She's… she's my daughter. She's seven months older than you."

Vanessa's eyes went wide. "What?" Her voice trembled. "How can you do this to us? To me?"

"But why did you need to do that?" Henry snapped, turning to Beatrice.

Beatrice folded her arms and looked at him. "I had someone dig into your past too, Henry. Hired someone who could find out everything. I had a right to know. And now, so does our daughter."

Henry clenched his jaw. "You had no right to go digging into my life like that, Beatrice."

"No right?" Beatrice laughed bitterly. "Do you see what this scandal is doing to us? Look at the papers, Henry. They hate us, calling us liars and frauds. All because of you and that… mistake of yours."

Vanessa's hands were clenched into fists. "So, what now? She's part of our family?"

Beatrice shook her head. "No, Vanessa. She may be his child, but she'll never be part of our family. We're not letting them destroy us. We'll handle this… the way Blackwoods do." Her voice was cold.

Henry frowned, glancing between his wife and daughter. "And what do you suggest, Beatrice?"

She smiled, but it wasn't a kind smile. "Simple. We make sure Eira and that man, Callian, can't ever touch us. She wants to claim the Blackwood name? We'll make her regret it."

"Finally. I'm tired of hearing about them in the press." She looked at her father. "Daddy, we have money, power… use it! Can't we make them disappear?"

Henry sighed, almost tiredly. "It's not that easy. They're already in the spotlight. Eira wants her rights as my and Helen's daughter, and Callian… he's trying to get benefits for his own name thanks to her drama. People are paying attention to them now."

Beatrice scoffed. "Then we make them look like fools. Turn their own attention against them. We show everyone what they really are—low, desperate, trying to latch onto us for power."

"I can help with that. I know people who can spread… rumors." She raised an eyebrow, looking eager. "Something big. People love scandals."

Beatrice nodded. "Exactly. Eira thinks she can come into our lives and stir up trouble? Let's see how she handles a few skeletons of her own."

Henry looked unsure, but he knew better than to argue with both of them. "Fine," he muttered. "But be careful and don't get me involved. One wrong move, and it could backfire on us."

"Don't worry, darling," Beatrice whispered. "We'll destroy them quietly. By the time we're done, no one will remember their names."

"Let the games begin. I will make that bitch beg on her knees."

 ~___~

Henry sat alone in his study, the DNA test clutched in his hands.

The results were clear: Eira was his daughter.

There was no escaping that truth now. His eyes lingered on the bold letters, and a heaviness settled in his chest.

A small cough sounded from the corner of the room.

The investigator he'd hired stood silently, watching Henry's reaction.

Henry sighed. "She… she really is mine." He rubbed a hand over his face, as if trying to erase the image of Helen from his mind.

But it didn't work.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her young face, full of life, and now, her daughter's face haunting him too.

"Do you… do you know where Eira is now?" he asked.

The investigator nodded. "Yes, sir. She's living in a small apartment on the outskirts. Not much, but she's making do."

Henry looked away, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Does she… how much does she know about Helen and me?"

The investigator hesitated, then shook his head. "From what I've gathered, she doesn't know the full story. Only that her mother… well, that she was in prison because of you."

Henry clenched his fists, feeling a sharp stab of pain in his heart. "I put her there," he whispered to himself. "And I never even looked back. Left her there to rot, as if she'd meant nothing."

"Sir?" The investigator looked confused, caught off guard by Henry's sudden confession.

Henry shook his head, almost as if he were scolding himself.

"I just… I thought cutting her off would solve everything. That Helen would be out of my life, and I could… move on."

He let out a dry, humorless laugh. "And now, look at me. A daughter I didn't know about, showing up years later, with Helen's face."

The investigator stayed quiet, sensing there was more Henry needed to say now.

"She had Eira while in prison?" Henry asked, almost not believing that story. "I didn't know… I never even checked."

"Yes, sir," the investigator replied softly. "She gave birth shortly after being sentenced. The child was taken in by her sister-in-law, raised without knowing much about you or… the rest of the family."

Henry's eyes darkened.

He remembered Helen's pleading eyes in the courtroom, her desperate and useless attempts to tell her side.

But no one listened. He'd shut her out, turned his back completely.

"What was I thinking?" he muttered in a breaking voice. "I was so focused on saving my reputation… on protecting Beatrice and Vanessa. But what about Helen? I didn't even give her a chance to live. And now… her daughter's come to haunt me."

The investigator shifted uncomfortably. "If I may, sir… sometimes things come back to us when we don't expect it."

Henry shook his head slowly. "She looks just like her," he murmured to himself.

"Every feature… it's like Helen is standing right in front of me. How could I not see it before?"

The investigator cleared his throat gently. "Perhaps you still have a chance to… make things right, in some way?"

Henry looked up sharply. "How? After everything I've done? I didn't just betray Helen. I erased her."

He stared at the DNA test. "And now… Eira has every reason to hate me."

"She doesn't know the whole story, sir," the investigator offered. "Maybe if you explain—"

Henry cut him off with a bitter smile. "Explain? Tell her that I locked her mother away and forgot about her? That I chose my reputation over her life?"

He shook his head, and his tone cracked. "No. She'll never forgive me. And maybe she shouldn't."

The investigator hesitated. "There are ways to reach out, sir. You don't have to explain everything… maybe just let her know you're willing to help. A small gesture, but it's a start."

Henry considered this. "Maybe… maybe it's time I did something for her. For Helen, too, even if it's too late… Thank you. You… you've given me something to think about."

The investigator nodded. "Good luck, sir."

As the investigator left, Henry stayed in his study, finally left alone. "I will finally do something right for both of you. I will let the both of you rest in peace, together."

He glanced at the newspaper that Beatrice had been reading earlier, with the headline:

-Callian Reed and Eira Hax, his new wife and the heiress of the Hax family, rushed to the hospital after a fatal accident.-