A Woman Worth Billions Dated the Wrong Brother novel Chapter 372

Amber POV

Jason contacted the trustees of the St. Johns family the following morning.

I expected the process to be complicated considering the amount of money involved in the trust, but complicated turned out to be an understatement. The trustees had apparently spent decades preparing for people to appear claiming some distant relationship to the vanished family. There were protocols for everything, including exactly how a potential heir's DNA could be collected.

The test couldn't be done privately.

There would be witnesses present during the collection, representatives from the trust, an independent laboratory, legal observers, and enough documentation to establish an unquestionable chain of custody from the moment Jason's sample was taken until the results were certified.

Jason listened to the explanation without complaining.

"When?"

"We can arrange the collection in three days," the trustee told him through the video call. "However, Mr. Sun, you should understand that the results will not be immediate. Given the age of the reference samples and the verification required under the St. Johns trust, final confirmation could take up to two weeks."

"That's fine."

I looked at him.

It absolutely wasn't fine.

Jason wanted the answer yesterday.

But he simply nodded and scheduled the appointment.

When the call ended, I smiled.

"Two weeks."

"Don't."

"You're going to lose your mind."

"I can wait."

I laughed.

Jason narrowed his eyes. "You refresh investigation reports every thirty seconds."

"That's completely different."

"How?"

"Because I'm charming when I'm impatient."

He stared at me.

I smiled.

"Don't answer that."

For once, we had something almost normal to wait for.

Then my phone started vibrating.

And didn't stop.

Jason's followed seconds later.

I looked at the screen.

"What happened now?"

That question had become far too common in our lives.

The first headline answered it.

BECKER MATRIARCH DEMANDS RETURN OF DAUGHTER

My smile disappeared.

"Rose."

Jason was already opening the article.

Rose's biological mother had resurfaced.

Not physically, of course.

That would have required her to reveal where she was, and the Becker matriarch was still a wanted criminal. Instead, she'd released a statement through intermediaries and attorneys, claiming that her daughter had been illegally taken from her.

Worse, she was claiming she'd been coerced into signing the adoption documents.

According to her statement, she'd been threatened, manipulated, and forced to surrender Rose while under extreme pressure. She claimed the adoption should never have been considered valid and demanded that her daughter be returned to her immediately.

The media exploded.

Within an hour, the story was everywhere.

Some outlets treated it like a custody battle.

Others framed it as another conflict between powerful families.

A few questioned whether a wanted criminal could even demand custody without appearing before the authorities.

But what made me furious was the way some of them talked about Rose.

As though she were property.

Something transferred from one family to another.

Something that could simply be returned.

Rose was a child.

She had a voice.

And after everything she'd survived, I wasn't going to let anyone erase it.

I called Mr. Stait.

He answered immediately.

"I assume you've seen it."

"I'm looking at it."

"Emory is here."

"Put me on speaker."

A second later, Emory's voice came through.

"This changes the timeline."

"What timeline?"

There was a short silence.

That immediately made me suspicious.

"Mr. Stait."

"We were preparing evidence."

"What evidence?"

"Against the Vincent trafficking network."

I stopped.

Jason moved closer.

Mr. Stait continued, "We've reached the point where keeping everything quiet may be protecting the wrong people."

That silenced me.

We'd known for some time that the Vincents were involved in trafficking people. Children. Women. Heirs. People traded between powerful families as though they were commodities.

We'd heard Oleta's testimony.

Elizabeth's.

We'd rescued women from the island.

We'd found Oliver.

We knew Alexander Vincent was involved in another trafficking operation with powerful families.

But governments had been investigating quietly because exposing everything too early could send the people involved underground.

Apparently, that strategy had reached its limit.

Emory spoke next.

"The Becker statement gives them a narrative they can control. If we stay silent, they'll turn this into a story about powerful people stealing children from their biological families."

"Instead of what actually happened."

"Exactly."

I understood.

The Becker matriarch wanted the world debating whether she'd been coerced into signing adoption papers.

She didn't want anyone asking why Rose needed to be protected from her in the first place.

"How much are you going to expose?" Jason asked.

"As much as we safely can," Mr. Stait answered. "Enough to establish that this isn't an isolated custody dispute. There is a network. The Vincents have been using it, and several families have participated."

I looked toward the living room doorway.

Rose wasn't there.

"Kids from families with money. Heirs. Children they think they can use to control companies or families. They move them around and make agreements about who they're supposed to belong to."

Rose nodded.

"They treat us like we're things."

Nobody interrupted.

"They decide who you're supposed to marry," Iris continued. "Where you're supposed to live. What family gets you. And if somebody doesn't cooperate, they threaten them."

My stomach twisted.

We already knew this.

Hearing the girls describe it themselves was different.

Rose looked toward the screen.

"If Mr. Stait is going to expose them, then I want people to know what they actually do."

Emory leaned closer to his camera.

"You understand that once you speak publicly, people will talk about you. Some will support you. Others may question you."

"I know."

"They may investigate your past."

"I know."

"They may say terrible things."

Rose's chin lifted.

"They already are."

That silenced everyone.

I looked at Jason.

His jaw was tight.

I knew exactly what he was thinking.

He'd been one of those children too.

Different circumstances.

Same principle.

Adults deciding a child could be transferred, hidden, sold, or used because powerful families believed bloodlines mattered more than the person carrying them.

Mr. Stait finally nodded.

"Then we do it correctly."

Not a gossip interview.

Not a rushed response outside a courthouse.

The girls would give formal statements. Their identities and experiences would be handled carefully, and investigators would release corroborating evidence wherever doing so wouldn't endanger victims or active rescue operations.

The story wouldn't be about Rose's mother demanding her daughter back.

It would be about the system that had made children like Rose and Iris valuable targets in the first place.

Jason's hand found mine.

"This is going to explode," he murmured.

"I know."

The Becker matriarch had wanted public attention.

She was about to get considerably more of it than she'd expected.

Because Mr. Stait and Emory were ready to expose the trafficking network the Vincents and their allied families had been using.

And Rose and Iris were ready to speak.

Not as property being fought over.

Not as heirs.

Not as bargaining chips between powerful families.

As themselves.

For the first time, the people who had spent years controlling children through fear, bloodlines, marriages, and money weren't going to be the ones telling the story.

The children they'd tried to control were.