The soft hum of the limousine engine was the only sound inside the dark, luxurious back seat. Clara sat completely frozen, her fingers clutching the DNA test report as if it were the only solid thing left in the world. The words printed on the white paper echoed in her mind over and over again. She was not a Vance by blood. She was a Vane.

Lucian stared down at the document resting in her lap. His dark eyes softened, losing the hard, dangerous edge that usually defined him. He reached out, gently taking the paper from her shaking hands and folding it neatly before setting it aside on the...