Badass in Disguise Chapter 140

The living room fell silent except for the ticking of the old wall clock. Linda's mouth tightened into a thin line, while Emily stared at her father in confusion. Archer Sullivan leaned forward, his expression intense.

"What do you mean, you found her?" Archer asked quietly, his cultured voice barely containing his eagerness.

Frank rubbed his weathered hands over his face. "Linda was pregnant with twins. A boy and a girl." His voice cracked. "The delivery was difficult. The boy... he didn't make it. Only Emily survived."

"Linda was unconscious after the delivery. The doctors had given her something strong for the pain." Frank continued, his voice growing steadier as he finally unburdened himself of the secret he'd carried for nearly two decades. "I went home to get some things—clothes, toiletries—and when I was walking back through the hospital's rear entrance, I heard a baby crying."

He took a deep breath, his work shirt stretching across his chest. "There was a cardboard box by the dumpster. Inside was a baby girl—Jade—wrapped in a blue blanket. So tiny. So perfect. I couldn't understand how anyone could just... leave her there."

"Did you ask around? Report it?" Archer pressed, leaning forward, his expensive suit creasing slightly at the elbows.

Frank nodded. "I asked everyone in the hospital if they knew anything. No one claimed her. The security cameras near that exit weren't working. It was clear she'd been deliberately abandoned."

"So you just... took her?" Archer's voice held no judgment, only curiosity.

"I couldn't bear the thought of her going to a foster home or orphanage. So I convinced a doctor to list her as Linda's second twin." Frank looked up, his eyes wet. "By the time Linda woke up from the anesthesia, we told her she'd had twin girls."

"You lied to me for eighteen years?" Linda's voice was dangerously low, her painted nails digging into her forearms.

"I did what I thought was right," Frank replied, not backing down. "She needed a home. We'd just lost our son. It felt... meant to be."

Archer sat back, processing the information. The leather of the couch creaked beneath his weight. "So Jade Morgan isn't your biological daughter. She was abandoned at birth." He looked at the medical records in his hands. "The timing matches perfectly with when my brother's girlfriend disappeared."

"What happened to your brother?" Frank asked, a hint of genuine concern in his voice.

"He died fifteen years ago," Archer said softly, a flash of old grief crossing his features. "He never knew he had a child. His girlfriend vanished without explanation."

The assistant who had accompanied Archer shifted uncomfortably by the door, his eyes darting periodically to the window as if expecting trouble.

Archer stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the neighborhood with its cracked sidewalks and chain-link fences. After a moment, he turned back to Frank, his posture straightening as if coming to a decision.

"I want to thank you, Mr. Morgan, for what you did," he said sincerely. "For taking care of her all these years. For giving her a home when she had none."

Frank nodded, accepting the gratitude with quiet dignity despite his shabby surroundings.

"If she is who I think she is—my brother's daughter—I promise you she'll be well provided for," Archer continued. "The Sullivan family takes care of its own."

"If she wants to go with you," Frank said softly, a protective edge to his voice. "It's her choice. It's always been her choice."

Linda scoffed, the sound harsh in the quiet room. "Choice? What about us? We've sacrificed for eighteen years! Fed her, clothed her, put up with her attitude—" Her voice rose with each grievance.

"Linda," Frank warned, shooting her a silencing look.

Archer reached for his wallet, the black leather gleaming as he pulled it from his inside pocket. "As I said, the Sullivan family is prepared to show our gratitude." He pulled out a sleek black card. "This card contains five million dollars as a token of our appreciation for raising her."

Linda's eyes bulged, and her hand shot out instinctively. "Five million?" she gasped, all pretense of indignation forgotten. The broken nail on her index finger caught the light as her hand hovered in midair.

Emily's mouth dropped open, her face a mask of disbelief and bitter envy as she stepped further into the room. The stepsister she'd tormented for years was apparently a Sullivan—one of New York's wealthiest families. All the opportunities, all the privileges that could have been hers if fate had been different. Her cheap shirt suddenly felt even more constricting, the polyester a stark reminder of her status.

The sound of a car door slamming outside made them all jump. Frank moved to the window and peered out past the faded curtains.

"It's Jade," he said, his voice a mixture of relief and dread. "She's back."

Archer's hand, still holding the card, froze midair. His face tensed with anticipation, eyes fixed on the front door.

The door swung open without warning. Jade Morgan stepped inside, her sharp eyes immediately taking in the scene before her. She noted Frank's guilty expression, Linda's eager gaze fixed on something in Archer's hand, and Emily's stunned face. Her attention settled on the stranger in the expensive suit who was staring at her with undisguised shock.

"Jade," Frank said, his voice cracking. "You're... home."

Archer Sullivan seemed unable to speak, his hand with the black card still suspended in the air as he turned fully toward the door. Linda glanced between Archer and the card, frustration evident as it remained just beyond her reach.

"What's going on here?" Jade asked, her voice cold and precise. She dropped her bag by the door.

"Jade, this is Mr. Archer Sullivan," Frank began hesitantly, gesturing toward their visitor. "He's—"

"I have something for you," Jade interrupted, pulling a manila folder from her bag. She walked past Archer Sullivan without acknowledging him and placed the folder on the coffee table with deliberate precision. "Divorce papers. Already drawn up. I need both your signatures."

Linda's attention momentarily diverted from the black card in Archer's hand to the folder on the table. "What are you talking about?" she demanded, her voice rising in pitch.

"You wanted a divorce. I'm making it happen," Jade said coolly, flipping the folder open to reveal the legal documents inside. "The house will be split between Frank and Emily. Max and I don't want any part of it."

Linda lunged for the papers, her cheap bracelets jangling. "I don't want a divorce. Your father was just angry when he said that. How could you take it seriously? It was just a..."

"Sign them," Jade said, "or I go public about how you and Emily stole my physics draft to get her that Princeton early admission spot. How does prison sound, Linda?"

Emily gasped from her position near the kitchen doorway, her face paling to a sickly white. Frank hung his head, unable to look at anyone. Linda's face contorted with rage and fear, her fingers gripping the edge of the papers so hard they crumpled beneath her grasp.

"What draft? What admission?" Archer Sullivan found his voice at last, looking between the family members with growing confusion. "What's this about Princeton?"

No one answered him. Frank stared at the stained carpet. Linda's jaw clenched so tight the muscles worked visibly beneath her skin. Emily had the decency to look ashamed, at least.

"Well?" Archer pressed, his authoritative tone cutting through the tension. "Would someone care to explain?"

"It's none of your business," Jade said sharply, turning to face him fully. Her eyes were cold and assessing as they swept over his expensive suit, the black card still in his hand, and the leather portfolio on the couch. "Now, who are you and what are you doing in this house?"

"Jade," Frank said, finally looking up. "Mr. Sullivan is here because..." He trailed off, unable to find the words.