I was at Clifford headquarters when the lawyer called Gabe with news about the DNA test the judge had ordered for Ingrid Ferrari. The result was exactly what we’d expected: the baby wasn’t his.

There was no celebration. We’d already figured it would come back negative. Still, I couldn’t wrap my head around how Ingrid could’ve been so reckless with her scheme. She didn’t even manage to sleep with Gabe for real, got caught spiking his drink, and yet she pressed on with her half-baked ...