Jonathan's POV
Rollings Designs - Later That Night
I stayed back at the office again.
My mind was uneasy.
The empty apartment was the last place I wanted to go to.
Documents related to Adrian scattered across the table…
But now I had another issue revolving in my mind.
Today a client came in for a new design.
He was the one who once pointed out how Adrian doesn't resemble me.
Though at the time Imelda said he took on her side of the family.
There were other times as well.
But every time Imelda found ways to put the hatchet on my suspicion.
But now, seeing Adrian's photo…
He doesn't resemble me…
He doesn't resemble Imelda or Fredrick.
Then shouldn't he resemble his father?
Yet he didn't.
Pearl River Hospital
The next day I cancelled my appointments and went over to Pearl River Hospital.
The place where Janet and Adrian were born.
"Mr. Rollings," Doctor Guss said, getting up to greet me.
Apart from me, Imelda, and Fredrick, Dr. Guss is the only one who knows about Adrian and Janet being my children as he was their delivery doctor.
"Dr. Guss," I said as I took a seat. "You once wanted to tell me something about Adrian's blood group. What was it?"
"Oh," he said, clearly dodging the question. "It was nothing. I just—"
I cut his sentence mid-way.
"Dr. Guss," I said in a frank voice. "This isn't a small matter and I'm sure you understand."
I let out a breath.
"I won't take your name."
He leaned back, and removed two files out from the drawer beside him.
As I was reviewing them, he explained:
"Adrian is AB positive. You're B negative. Ms. Imelda is A negative."
He pauses.
"Your blood combination cannot produce an AB positive child."
"Another example."
"You B negative and Ms. Smith AB negative. Your daughter Janet is AB negative."
In short…
He didn't need to finish, as I understood to a certain extent.
I took my leave from him and went back to my office.
Rollings Designs - Later in the day
"Mr. Rollings," my assistant said. "You never requested these documents before?"
I looked up.
"I am now."
"Then…"
He trailed off.
"Speak."
"I'll get the files from the store," he said. "The PC files have a notification set. Ms. Imelda will find out."
I nodded as he left.
I was reviewing the blood report, when he came back.
"Mr. Rollings," he said. "Here."
He kept the files on the table.
"And arrange for a—" "Mr. Rollings," he said. "Are you doubting something…"
He saw my gaze.
"I meant because I also felt—"
"What?" I said, a little surprised. "You also feel he…"
"Doesn't resemble you," he said. "Mr. Rollings, anyone can tell. For that matter he doesn't even resemble Ms. Imelda. In fact, the girl, Janet Smith, whom you adopted, if you say she's your daughter, no one would suspect."
He let out a small happy laugh.
"She even has the same habit of removing tomato skin from gravy like you."
"Okay," I said. "Find a way for the test."
I didn't want Imelda or Fredrick to find out.
As he left, I picked up the photo frame of Janet.
I paused.
"She is my daughter. My flesh and blood."
I was busy with my thoughts..
My secretary walked in.
"Mr. Rollings," she said. "Mr. Staf…from yesterday is here to meet you."
"Send him in."
I could see Daniel from the glass window in front of me.
Though I didn't like the first time he came, but today…
I was a little enthusiastic.
I felt like he was the person who had answers to the questions I'm looking for.
"Mr. Staf," I said, getting up. "Please have a seat."
Daniel smiled as he walked in.
After shaking hands, he sat in the chair in front of me.
"I see you've started investigating."
As he sat in the chair.
"I assume you've begun asking the right questions."
I leaned forward.
"Where's your detective?"
"Oh, no," he said, brushing off. "I don't have any. But yes, when I came in yesterday…"
His gaze fell on the documents on the table.
"They didn't have bookmarks of highlighted points."
"Why don't you tell why you really came?"
I said in a frank voice.
"I'm the one who gave the warning about Imelda having eyes in her back."
I looked at him with pinched eyes.
"From our conversation," he continued. "You should have guessed we both are old acquaintances. As to how close, that's of no relevance at the moment."
"Are you presuming she's using me?"
"Imelda, use someone," he said in a sarcastic voice. "She doesn't use anyone. It's her father who manipulates everyone under her disguise."
"He's the one you should be careful of."
"And why are you helping me out?"
"Oh, please don't get the wrong idea," he said. "I'm helping myself and a …friend."
"Friend?"
I looked with a slightly tilted head.
"Yes, a pure friend." He said. "Whom I promised to protect."
The moment he said that, I let out a sigh of relief.
As I hoped that friend would be Veronica.
Which would mean she's safe.
"But I think you're derailing."
"How come?" I said. "What makes you think such?"
"You clearly know Veronica handled cross-company work."
"Which I thought she chose." I said with a slight pang in my heart.
"Probably she didn't have a choice." He said.
Silence.
This was the first crack in my assumption…
Imelda purposely made Veronica do these jobs.
The biggest fact in this was…
Neither Veronica nor Imelda let me know about this.
Today, I was also angry because after my business made a name, I shifted to my mansion.
And because of Imelda, kept stalling in shifting Veronica and Janet over.
Had I done that…
If I had brought them to the mansion, I would have known.
"It's odd," he continued. "How you trust everything related to her…blindfolded."
He leaned back.
"Even if she makes you wear a green hat."
"What?" I said, confused.
"It's a Chinese phrase," he said. "When you're being cheated on."
"Don't look like that at me," he said, folding his arms. "I'm just saying. I saw her at a cafe with someone. She was quite close."
Even though he changed the topic…
I knew he was referring to Adrian.
"Mr. Staf—"
"Let's skip the formalities," he said. "Call me Daniel and I'll call you Jonathan."
I let out a breath.
"Daniel—"
Imelda walked in heels clanking against the marble floor mid-way in our conversation.
"I see you've come back."
"Well, let's say, there were some things that needed to be clarified."
Daniel said without looking at her.
"I was saying Jonathan—"
"Jonathan?" she said cutting in. "You're not so familiar with him."
"We are now," I said, taking control.
"Jonathan," she said with pinched brows, clearly expressing I was insulting her in front of a stranger.
"Imelda," I said in a frank voice. "I told you yesterday he's my client."
"Jonathan," she said. "Since when did you start working with every Tom, Dick and Harry?"
Daniel's face lost expression on her saying that.
At the moment I didn't know why her comment hurt him so much, but I would find out soon.
"Imelda," I said, getting up. "If you intend to insult my clients…that's the way."
I said pointing towards the door.
"Jonathan, it's alright." Daniel said, making me sit down.
"Ms. Imelda, clarity comes from consistency," he said. "I can understand—"
"And trust?" she cut his words mid-way.
"Trust," he said in a cold tone. "It can only be earned."
As both were engaged in their cross-fire conversation…
I began to study them.
Imelda kept up with her controlling tone.
Daniel…he kept pushing boundaries.
I could clearly see there was a power struggle between them.
Could Daniel be one of her previous clients?
But somehow their conversation seemed more close than that.
"So, you're Jonathan's client," she said. "May I know what brings you here?"
"Oh," he said, removing a folded paper out of his pocket. "I want to design a necklace for my friend."
He passed the folded paper towards me.
"Do you think the design is possible?"
Imelda was about to take it from me, but I pulled my hand back.
"Imelda, he's my client."
I leaned back as she let out a frustrated breath.
The design was no-doubt beautiful.
But I don't know why Veronica came to my mind the moment I saw the design.
"Yes, it's possible," I said. "But I'll need at least three weeks. There's a lot of detailing in the design."
"Oh, take your time," he said, making himself more comfortable.
I removed a file from my desk drawer.
"Here," I said, passing the file over to him. "These are some of our unique designs. I see the detailing matches some of them. Maybe one might impress you."
"Jonathan," Imelda said. "Those are our unique designs—"
She leaned back into her chair frustrated as I took her name, "Imelda."
"Interesting," he said.
"I knew you'd like the designs." I said with a smile as they were some unique designs that Fredrick gave me.
"I meant the designs…they're copied," he said. "But the hand isn't consistent."
"Daniel—"
Imelda interrupted me.
"You're overstepping your boundary."
"Or you're avoiding it as you know it's the truth."
"The hell I am," she sat back frustrated.
But now I was certain…both were hiding something from me.
Daniel gets up to leave, and stops at the door.
"Jonathan," he calls out. "You're looking in the right direction. Don't stop."
Daniel had left.
I should have relaxed as maybe I was overthinking about them
But I was more convinced, I wasn't.
Now, I had another thing I wanted to clarify…
The relationship between Daniel and Imelda.
"Jonathan," she said, walking over towards me.
She places her hand on my shoulder and leans in really close.
"He's only manipulating you. Don't fall for him."
I pushed her back a bit.
"Is he?"
She paused for a brief moment.
"Of course he is," she said. "He must be a rival's—"
"Do you really think anyone can come into my office?" I said in a frank voice. "Imelda, by now you should know how easy I trust anyone."
"But he is, can't you see?" she said emphasizing on her words.
"Then why is it, whatever he says," I said. "Somehow it makes sense."
Not that I was accusing Imelda, but now my trust in her wasn't the same as before.
Imelda didn't answer, instead she walked out.
As she left, I was left alone in my office.
Files were still open in front of me.
My mind was racing, but controlled.
I looked at the designs.
"Why didn't I notice these things before?"
I was reviewing the designs.
"The lines clearly lack control. Yet the design …is precise."
"Again, I believed Fredrick when he told me they were his earlier designs."
"If these are copied…"
That means someone else designed them.
Someone who could, but never came forward.
Why?