Badass in Disguise (Shadow) novel Chapter 163

Chapter 163

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Frank’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Looking at the caller ID, he frowned. His wife calling during work hours was never good news.

“What now, Linda?” he answered, pressing one finger against his ear to block out the machinery’s roar.

Linda’s voice came through sharp and clear. “You need to come home. Now.”

“I’m working, Linda. The money you want-“.

“This isn’t about money,” she cut him off, her voice unusually tense. “There’s someone here asking questions about

Jade.”

Frank’s heart stuttered. A cold sensation spread through his chest. “What kind of questions?”

“Questions about whether she’s really our daughter.”

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His grip tightened on the phone until his knuckles turned white. “What the hell are you talking about? Who’s there?”

“Some rich guy named Archer Sullivan. He’s got medical records, Frank. From the community hospital. From when I gave birth.”

Frank’s world tilted sideways. The floor seemed to swim around him, the noise fading as blood rushed in his ears. “That’s bullshit. Who says Jade isn’t our daughter?”

“These records show-”

‘I don’t care what they show!” Frank’s voice rose, drawing glances from his coworkers. A nearby guy motioned for him to keep it down. “You carried her for nine months. You gave birth to her at Community Hospital. I held her in my arms when she was minutes old. I’ve raised her for seventeen years. She’s my daughter!”

“Frank, just come home and look at these-”

I’m not looking at any goddamn reports. Tell that man to leave our house. Now.” Frank’s breathing had become ragged, his free hand clenching and unclenching at his side.

Frank hung up, his hands shaking so badly he nearly dropped the phone.

Linda Morgan snatched the medical report from Emily’s hands, scanning the yellowed paper with narrowed eyes. The living room felt suffocating, with Archer Sullivan and his assistant watching her every reaction from the couch.

“What does it say, Mom?” Emily asked, peering over her shoulder.

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Chapter 163

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“This can’t be right.” Linda’s eyes darted across the page again, disbelief written across her features. The date on the report matched – eighteen years ago at Cloud City Community Hospital.

She grabbed her phone and texted Frank: If you don’t come home now, I’ll have them come to your work. Your choice.

Linda turned to Archer, her expression a mixture of shock and calculation. “We should wait for my husband. He’s on

his way.”

When Frank’s truck pulled into the driveway, the muffler rattling ominously. He slammed the truck door and stormed up the cracked concrete path, his work boots heavy on the steps.

“Get out of my house,” Frank demanded, his voice dangerously low.

Archer Sullivan remained seated on their worn couch, his expensive suit looking absurdly out of place among the shabby furniture. A leather portfolio lay open on the coffee table between them. “Mr. Morgan, I understand this is difficult-”

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