Bound by the Past, Locked by the Heart novel Chapter 292

Willa's chest tightened. "What did they find?" she asked, her voice bordering on a whisper.

"From what I gathered, your mother was the one who approached the Yates family. They're currently verifying her claims," Corbin warned. "You need to brace yourself, Willa. Now that the Yates family has caught wind of this, they won't just let it go. I'm stuck in Europe right now and can't get back to help."

Given the situation, it was painfully obvious that the Yates family's next move would be a DNA test.

"I understand. Thank you," Willa said distractedly before ending the call.

The next day, she went to work as usual.

The office was still buzzing with vicious rumors, but she lacked the energy to defend herself, choosing to tune it all out. Compared to the office drama, Nolan's safety was the only thing that mattered.

That afternoon, her phone buzzed on her desk.

It was a text from an unknown number, containing only a single photo.

Willa stared at the screen, her fingers trembling.

The image showed Naomi Whitman holding up a clear plastic evidence bag. Inside, a few soft, fine strands of hair were faintly visible.

A suffocating wave of regret washed over Willa. She never should have shown Naomi any mercy. She never imagined her own mother would sink low enough to sell out her grandson for a payout.

Her worst nightmare was unfolding right before her eyes.

The phone buzzed again.

Another message popped up from the same number: [Have you made your decision, Ms. Vance? Your child doesn't have the luxury of time.]

It was Julian.

Willa took a deep, steadying breath and typed back: [Mr. York, let's meet tomorrow to discuss the details.]

Right before quitting time, as she was packing up her desk, Corbin called again.

"Willa, the Yates family already submitted the hair samples Naomi gave them for a DNA test. The results will be back tomorrow. You need to be ready."

Willa gripped the phone, her throat constricting. "Thank you, Corbin."

Julian strolled in, smelling heavily of expensive liquor. "Apologies for the wait, Ms. Vance."

Willa stood up, cutting straight to the chase. "Let's talk about our arrangement."

Julian leaned casually against the doorframe, a calculated smile playing on his lips. "Since you made the trip, why not come upstairs and meet a few friends?"

Every instinct told Willa to decline, but she knew she didn't have the leverage to say no. With a tight nod, she followed him out of the lounge.

They navigated a long, winding corridor before stopping in front of a heavy oak door.

A server pushed it open, revealing a sprawling VIP suite. The lighting was marginally brighter than the hallway. Seven or eight sharply dressed executives lounged on the plush sofas, laughing and clinking glasses.

Willa scanned the room, her gaze suddenly freezing.

Sitting right in the center of the sofa was Randal Yates.

He was swirling a glass of bourbon, head tilted slightly as he listened to the man next to him speak.