Chapter 9 I Am the Heir of the Monette Family

# Chapter 9: I Am the Heir of the Monette Family

The cemetery was quiet, shrouded in early morning mist that clung to the tombstones like ghostly fingers. Callum led me through rows of marble monuments, his hand occasionally steadying me when my heels sank into the damp earth. Despite being discharged from the hospital only hours ago, I had insisted on coming immediately. Some truths couldn't wait.

We stopped before a modest headstone compared to the ostentatious mausoleums surrounding it. "Elaine Vervain," it read, "Beloved wife and mother. The brightest flame extinguished too soon."

I knelt before it, touching the cold stone. "Why is she buried here? This is the Monette family plot."

Callum remained standing, hands in the pockets of his cashmere coat. "I arranged it. Your father had no money for a proper burial."

"Without his permission?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. Callum Monette didn't ask permission; he simply acted.

"He was in no state to object. Grief had broken him." Callum's voice softened slightly. "I respected his wish to have her buried under her married name, not mine."

I looked up sharply. "What do you mean, 'not yours'?"

His eyes met mine, unflinching. "Elaine was married to me first. Very briefly. We divorced six months before she met your father."

The world tilted beneath me. I gripped the headstone for support. "You were married to my mother? And you never thought to mention this?"

"It wasn't relevant to our current situation."

"Not relevant?" I stood, anger giving me strength. "You married your son to your ex-wife's daughter! How is that not relevant?"

"I didn't arrange your meeting with Gideon," Callum countered. "That was genuine coincidence. Though I admit, when he brought you home, I recognized the potential... symmetry."

"Symmetry," I repeated, disgust coloring my voice. "Is that what you call this sick game you're playing?"

Callum stepped closer, his presence as always both threatening and magnetic. "This is no game, Clarette. This is fate correcting a mistake made thirty years ago."

I laughed bitterly. "So I'm what? Your second chance? The do-over with the daughter since you failed with the mother?"

Advertisement

"You're nothing like her," he said, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that always sent shivers down my spine. "She was fire, yes, but uncontrolled, unpredictable. You're ice—deliberate, strategic. Perfect."

I turned away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. "Did you love her?"

"I wanted to possess her," he answered honestly. "I'm not certain I knew what love was then."

"And now?" I challenged, facing him again. "Do you love me, Callum? Or do you just want to possess me too?"

He reached out, his fingers tracing my cheek with unexpected tenderness. "With you, I can't tell the difference anymore."

I should have been repulsed. Should have slapped his hand away and fled. Instead, I found myself leaning into his touch, craving it despite everything.

A discreet cough interrupted the moment. An elderly man in a dark suit stood a respectful distance away. "Mr. Monette, the records you requested."

Callum nodded, taking a thick envelope from the man, who then retreated to a black town car parked on the cemetery path.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Answers." He handed me the envelope. "Open it."

Inside were birth certificates, marriage licenses, and legal documents spanning decades. I sifted through them, confusion growing with each page, until I reached a DNA test from twenty-seven years ago. It compared two samples: one labeled "Baby Girl Vervain" and another labeled "Vivienne Monette."

The result: 99.9% probability of biological relationship.

"I don't understand," I whispered, the paper trembling in my hands.

Callum's voice was gentle, almost tender. "You are not Elaine's daughter, Clarette. You're Vivienne's."

The world seemed to stop. "That's impossible. My aunt raised me after my parents died—"

"Your 'aunt' was paid very well to maintain that fiction." Callum took the papers from my numb fingers. "Vivienne gave birth to you while I was in Japan on business. When I returned, she told me you had died at birth—a lie I believed for years."

I shook my head, denial rising like bile. "Why would she lie? Why give up her own child?"

"Because you weren't mine." His eyes held mine, unflinching. "At least, that's what she believed. She had an affair during our separation. When you were born with features that reminded her of Elaine—the woman she knew I'd never forgotten—she panicked. She couldn't bear to raise what she thought was another woman's child."

"So she gave me away? To my mother's sister?" My voice rose, hysteria edging in. "And you never questioned it? Never looked for your supposedly dead child?"

"I did question it," Callum's jaw tightened. "Years later, when rumors reached me about a child that resembled the Monette line. By then, you were established in your life. I hired investigators, obtained DNA secretly."

"And discovered I was your daughter." The realization hit me with physical force. "That's why you were so interested in me from the beginning. Not because I looked like my mother—because I was your daughter."

A sick feeling washed over me as another realization dawned. "Oh god. We've been... you and I have..." I couldn't finish the sentence, nausea rising.

"No." Callum gripped my shoulders. "Listen to me, Clarette. You are not my biological daughter. The DNA test Vivienne had done was correct—you're not mine. But you are a Monette by blood. You are Vivienne's daughter with my brother, Vincent."

"Your brother?" I whispered, struggling to process this new information.

"The true founder of Monette Enterprises. The one written out of company history." Callum's expression darkened. "Vincent was brilliant but unstable—diagnosed with bipolar disorder with psychopathic tendencies. He and Vivienne had a brief affair during our separation. When she realized she was pregnant with his child, she knew it would destroy both our marriage and the company if the truth came out."

I pulled away from him, needing distance. "So she gave me away and pretended I was dead."

"Yes."

"And you discovered this... when?"

His hesitation told me everything. "Five years ago."

"Before I met Gideon."

"Yes."

The betrayal was so complete, so absolute that I could barely breathe. "You engineered everything. My relationship with your son, the merger with my company, all of it—knowing I was your niece."

"I engineered nothing," Callum insisted. "But when fate placed you in our path, I recognized the opportunity to right a historical wrong. To restore you to your rightful place in the Monette legacy."

I laughed, the sound brittle and sharp. "My rightful place? As what? The mad founder's secret daughter? The current CEO's niece who fucked both him and his son?"

"As the true heir to Monette Enterprises," Callum stated calmly. "Vincent was the firstborn. By blood right, everything should have gone to his descendants. To you."

I stared at him, realization dawning. "That's what this has always been about. Not love, not even obsession. Power. Control of the company."

"Not just the company," Callum stepped closer again, his voice dropping to that hypnotic register. "Everything. The entire Monette empire, rightfully returned to the main bloodline through you. Through us."

"There is no 'us,'" I spat, backing away. "You've manipulated and lied to me from the beginning."

"I've given you the truth when no one else would," he countered. "I've placed you in position to claim what's rightfully yours."

I looked down at my mother's grave—not my mother after all, but a woman who had loved and lost the man before me. How many women had been destroyed in the wake of Callum Monette's ambition?

"I'm going to destroy you," I whispered, the decision crystallizing in my mind. "Not for me. For her. For every woman you've used as a pawn in your games."

Callum's smile was slow, appreciative. "There she is. The queen finally recognizing her power on the board."

He reached for me, but I stepped back. "Don't touch me. Not ever again."

"You'll change your mind," he said confidently. "When you understand the full scope of what I'm offering."

"I understand perfectly." I straightened, drawing on some inner reserve of strength. "I am Clarette Vervain—no, Clarette Monette. Daughter of Vincent Monette, rightful heir to the company you stole. And I'm going to take back everything that belongs to me."

His eyes gleamed with something like pride. "I would expect nothing less."

As I walked away from my false mother's grave, my head held high, I felt something shift within me—the last remnants of the woman I thought I was falling away, replaced by something harder, colder. More Monette than I could have ever imagined.