Behind The Closed Doors: The Billionaire’s Secret.

Celeste POV

There was a huge silence at the Bologna estate.

The air inside the grand study was filled with tension suffocating the entire room. The only sound was the faint sound of the clock on the well structured wall and the sounds of heartbeats echoing through the room while we awaited the result.

Alexander Bologna stood tall, his gray eyes locked intensely on the doctor, jaw and fist clenched tight. His entire body froze, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him.

To the right stood Angela Bologna with her perfectly manicured fingers, pacing the room with an unreadable expression while throwing hateful side eyes at me. Then there was also Marcus, seated calmly, observant, his fingers interlocked in his lap as if he had already accepted the inevitable truth while others refused to do so.

I shifted slightly, gripping Ethan’s small hand in mine as I pulled him closer. He looked up at me, bright gray eyes filled with curiosity, completely unaware of the storm about to break.

Then the doctor cleared his throat ready to announce the results.

“The DNA results confirm a biological match. It's a 99.9% match. Mr. Bologna, Ethan is your son.”

The room exploded with different emotions.

“This is ridiculous!” she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. “That gold digger must have planned this from the beginning! Just like her mother, scheming, disgusting, always after wealth!”

I wasn’t surprised. I expected this. I had prepared my whole life for this. But hearing her speak those words so effortlessly made my blood boil with anger. I tried maintaining my usual blank face, my grip on Ethan still tight.

Alexander kept mute. He just stood there, staring at the doctor as if the words hadn’t fully registered or maybe he hoped for something else.

“I demand another test,” Angela snapped, turning to Alexander. “This woman is a liar. That boy is a bastard. She trapped you just like—”

I stepped forward, my voice calm but firm. “Careful, Mrs. Bologna,” I said, meeting her gaze with a quiet fire. “I will not tolerate you calling your grandson names. He is your grandson whether you like it or not.”

Her mouth snapped shut, nostrils flaring as she glared at me.

Then, Alexander finally moved. He walked toward Ethan, each step slow and deliberate, his eyes scanning him.

When he stopped in front of him, he bent down to his level, his piercing gaze studying the boy—his son. Ethan tilted his head, mirroring the movement, a small smile forming on his lips.

And in that moment, something shifted in Alexander’s expression. His hardened features softened, just slightly, and I saw it—the realization. The undeniable truth that no matter how much he wanted to deny it, Ethan was his.

“You knew,” he finally spoke, his voice lower, controlled. He turned his gaze to me, his silver eyes stormy with unspoken emotion. “You knew all this time.”

I lifted my chin, refusing to cower. “I did and so?”

His jaw tightened. “And you hid him from me all these years? Why?”

I let out a small, humorless laugh. “Your family made that decision for me six years ago.” My gaze flickered to Angela, who stiffened at my implication.

Alexander exhaled harshly, running a hand through his dark hair before turning back to Ethan. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he hesitated. A flicker of hesitation—of guilt?—passed through his features before he looked away.

Marcus cleared his throat. “Well, I for one am happy to welcome my great-nephew into this family,” he said smoothly, standing from his seat. His gaze met mine, warm and inviting. “And of course, it’s wonderful to have you back, Clara. Why did you leave without informing anyone?”

The name Clara hit me hard, reminding me of my purpose here.

I forced a tight smile, keeping the bitterness at bay. They all thought I was my sister. That was the whole point. And until I got what I came for, that illusion would remain.

“Thank you,” I said, keeping my voice light. “It’s… good to be back.” While intentionally ignoring his question.

Angela scoffed. “This changes nothing,” she snapped, turning to Alexander. “You are not letting this woman back into our lives just because of some child.”

Alexander rose to his full height, his towering frame imposing even in the dim lighting of the study. “He is not some child, he is my son and he stays.” His voice was sharp, commanding, leaving no room for argument.

Angela paled, clearly not expecting resistance. “Alexander—”

“I want time with him,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “And I want answers.” His gaze flickered to me, laced with something unreadable.

This was it.

I knew Alexander wouldn’t reject Ethan. He had too much pride, too much honor in the Bologna name. He could despise me all he wanted, but his son? That was a different story. He would never reject his blood.

I tilted my head, my lips curling slightly as everything perfectly flowed according to my plan. “Thenlet’s make a deal.”

His eyes narrowed. “What kind of deal?”

I turned, walking toward the fireplace, tracing my fingers over the ornate carvings on the mantle. “Ethan needs security,” I murmured, keeping my back to him. “And I know how your world works, Alexander. The vultures will circle the moment this gets out.”

I turned back to face him. “So let’s make it simple. I want a contract marriage.”

The room went silent.

Angela gasped. “You little—”

“I stay here,” I continued, ignoring her. “Ethan gets the stability of a family, and you get the assurance that I won’t take him and disappear again.”

Alexander’s expression was unreadable, but I could see the wheels turning in his mind. He was a businessman, and this was a business deal—one that benefited him just as much as it did me.

He had an heir and I knew he was going to risk losing him.

“And in return?” he asked, arms crossing over his broad chest.

I held his gaze. “I get the protection of your name.”

A beat of silence.

Then he scoffed. “You think I’d marry you just to save face?”

I took a step closer, tilting my head. “You think you have a choice?” I whispered. “Your empire, your reputation—it’s all at stake. If the media finds out you abandoned your son for six years? You’ll never recover from that. It’s my word against yours.”

His eyes darkened. “You’re manipulating me.”

I smiled, slow and deliberate. “No, Alexander. I’m giving you an option. A way to fix what you destroyed.”

His fists clenched at his sides. He was livid. I could feel it radiating off him in waves.

Then Marcus chuckled, breaking the tension. “You have to admit, Alex. She’s got a point.” He turned to me with amusement in his sharp blue eyes. “You really have changed, Clara. You seem like a totally different person.”

I merely smiled, masking the flicker of unease in my chest.

Because Marcus was right.

I wasn’t Clara.

I was her shadow, risen from the grave to take back what was stolen.

And this was only the beginning. There is more to come.

Alexander’s lips curled into a smirk, but there was nothing amused about it. He took another step toward me, closing the distance until we were inches apart.

“Fine,” he said, voice low, dangerous. “We’ll play this your way.”

My heart pounded because the game has started.

He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear.

“But remember this,” he murmured darkly, “if you think you can control me, you’re sorely mistaken. You wanted a war, Clara? Then prepare for battle.”

I swallowed, my pulse racing.

Good.

Let the war begin.