He threw her out onto the street pregnant, believing she had been unfaithful: 10 years later, a red light showed him 4 pairs of eyes identical to his own and he discovered the truth that brought him to his knees.

Donovan had gone further, questioning the retired family urologist who now lived lavishly by the coast.

“You weren’t sterile, Mr. Reed,” the doctor had confessed. “Low count, yes—but not impossible. Your mother insisted Isabella was beneath you. She paid me to falsify the report.”

Alexander hurled the crystal glass against the wall.

His mother. Eleanor Reed. Dead two years now, buried with her secret. She had destroyed his family out of pride. And he had never doubted her.

He collapsed into his chair, tears falling freely. He had condemned his own daughters to poverty. The woman he loved had gone to prison trying to feed his children.

Pain turned into resolve.

“Marcus,” he said through the intercom, steady now. “Get the car. Call the best defense attorneys in the city. We’re going to the prison.”

Valley State smelled of damp concrete and despair. When Isabella entered the visiting room, Alexander barely recognized her. She was thin, pale, her hands rough from laundry duty. Yet her dark eyes still burned.

“Did you come to laugh at me?” she asked coldly.

“Isabella…” He stepped forward; she recoiled. “I didn’t know. They lied to me. My mother. The doctor. I believed—”