Chapter 8

The Test

"That's impossible." The words leave me before I can stop them, disbelief and fury tangling together in my chest. "There's no way she has a DNA test. No one's ever taken so much as a swab from Lila without my consent."

"Unless." Julian's expression shifts, calculating. "Amara, has Lila spent any unsupervised time with Isabella since she moved into the penthouse?"

My stomach drops as the memory surfaces, sharp and unwelcome. "The week before the accident. Isabella offered to take both girls for ice cream while I finished packing for the gala. I thought, I actually thought it was a kind gesture."

"A cup, a spoon, even a strand of hair caught in a hairbrush would be enough." Julian is already typing again, jaw tight. "She's had opportunity for weeks."

"Even if she has a sample, that doesn't mean the results say what she wants them to say." My father's voice stays even, but I can see the tension coiled in his shoulders. "Lila is Noah's daughter. A legitimate test will confirm that in an hour."

"And if it's not legitimate?" Elena's voice is small. "If she rigged it, or paid someone to falsify the results the same way she paid Delray?"

The room falls quiet, and I press a hand to my mouth, trying to steady the wave of nausea rising in my throat. Lila. My sweet, trusting little girl, who still asks every single night if her daddy is coming to read her a story, being used as a pawn in someone else's war.

"I need to see her." I'm already pushing back the blanket, wincing as pain flares through my side. "I need to get to Lila before anyone else does."

"Amara, you were just in surgery two days ago." Julian's hand catches my arm gently. "You can't discharge yourself."

"Watch me." I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, ignoring the way the room tilts slightly. "That woman is standing in front of a boardroom right now claiming rights to my daughter, and I am not going to lie in this bed while she does it."

My father steps in front of me, not to stop me, but to steady me, one hand firm under my elbow. "If you're doing this, you're doing it my way. I have a car downstairs and a private physician who can travel with us. We go straight to the penthouse, get Lila, and bring her somewhere Isabella can't reach either of you."

"And the board meeting?" Elena asks.

"Let them have their circus." My father's voice hardens. "Once we have proof of what Isabella's done, we'll bring the real evidence directly to the board ourselves, and it will bury her."

Twenty minutes later, dressed in the change of clothes Elena fetched from her own bag and moving slower than I'd like to admit, I'm in the back of my father's car with Julian on one side and Elena on the other, speeding toward the penthouse that hasn't felt like home in longer than I can remember.

The moment we pull up, I see Ari pacing outside the entrance, phone pressed to his ear, his face tight with worry. He spots the car and jogs over before I've even fully stepped out.

"Amara, thank God." He grips the door as I climb out. "Lila's fine, she's upstairs with the nanny, but Isabella took Ivy and left for Frost Tower an hour ago. I tried calling you but your phone was off."

"I know where she went." I push past him toward the entrance, my legs unsteady but my resolve absolute. "I need to see Lila. Now."

Ari falls into step beside me, and behind him I hear my father's phone ring, sharp and urgent. He answers it walking, his voice dropping low, and by the time we reach the elevator his expression has gone carefully blank in a way I recognize means whatever he just heard is bad.

"That was my contact at Frost Corporation." He lowers the phone as the elevator doors close around us. "The board meeting already happened. Isabella presented her results."

My heart stops. "And?"

"According to the test she submitted, Lila is not biologically Noah's daughter." My father's jaw is tight, his eyes locked on mine. "The board has suspended Noah's authority over major decisions pending a formal paternity investigation, and Isabella is publicly claiming that Ivy is his only confirmed child."

The elevator doors slide open onto the penthouse floor, and standing there, waiting, phone still in his hand and his face carved from something I've never seen on him before, is Noah.

"Get out of my way." My voice is ice as I step forward, but he doesn't move.

"Amara." His voice is rough, stripped of every ounce of cold control I've known him by for four years. "I need to talk to you. Now, before you see the test results yourself."

"Why." I stop directly in front of him, refusing to let my legs shake even though everything in me wants to collapse. "Give me one reason I should listen to a single word out of your mouth."

Noah's eyes flick past me to Julian, to my father, to Elena, before landing back on my face, and what I see there stops my breath entirely.

Fear.

"Because I had my own test run this morning." His voice drops, barely above a whisper. "A real one, done independently, before Isabella ever presented hers to the board. And Amara, the results don't match what she's telling everyone."