The Proof

Chapter 12: The Proof

Aurora’s POV

 “If I’m Alex’s father, I get to spend more time with him. That’s my condition.” He said calmly.

And I’d agreed. Because Alex came first. Because my son’s life meant more to me than my pride, or my anger, or even the ache in my chest at being in the same room with Jace Carter again. And besides, it was high time Alex got to know his father.

“You have a deal,” I said finally, my voice calm. Steady.

Jace’s eyes flared with something, triumph, hunger, satisfaction, but his face was carved from stone, giving nothing away. He leaned back in his chair, fingertips pressed together, studying me like a wolf who’d just convinced his prey to step closer.

But I wasn’t prey anymore.

“Then let’s make it official,” he said. He picked up his phone and pressed a single button. “George.”

Within seconds, the door opened. George stepped in, carrying a sleek tablet under one arm and a notepad under the other. His expression was unreadable, though I caught the flicker of curiosity in his eyes as they darted briefly to me. He knew better than to ask questions.

“Yes, Mr. Carter?”

“Draft a formal document,” Jace said smoothly, his gaze never leaving mine. “The agreement is as follows: If I am proven to be a genetic match for the boy, I commit to assisting with any necessary medical treatment. In exchange, Aurora..."

“Miss Thompson,” I cut in sharply.

The corner of Jace’s mouth twitched, but he inclined his head. “Miss Thompson agrees to offer Carter Holdings first rights to acquire Biogenix.”

George’s eyes moved to me again, it was obvious how shocked he was with the movement but he didn't say anything. “Anything else, sir?”

“Yes. Clause three: If I am confirmed as the boy’s father, I am entitled to spend time with him. Regularly."

My jaw clenched, but I forced myself to nod. It was fair. More than fair, considering the stakes.

“Make it binding,” Jace added. “We don't need any loopholes."

George hesitated only briefly before bowing his head. “Of course, sir. Give me ten minutes.”

As the door closed behind him, the silence returned, heavy with the things neither of us wanted to say.

I kept my eyes trained on the skyline beyond his glass walls, the busy movement of New York in the mornings. Anything to keep from drowning in the weight of Jace’s stare.

When George returned, he carried two crisp documents, freshly printed and still warm from the machine. He laid them carefully on the desk, along with a sleek fountain pen.

Jace skimmed the pages in seconds, his eyes sharp as a blade. Then he slid one across to me. “Read it.”

I did. Every word, every clause. George hadn’t missed a beat, no vague phrasing, no technical gray areas. It was airtight. 

Satisfied, I picked up the pen and signed. Jace followed, his signature bold, final.

It was done.

Now came the harder part.

“When do you want the test?” he asked me.

I didn’t hesitate. “Now.”

His brows lifted. “Now?”

“Yes. And I want the results today.”

He almost laughed...almost. “Aurora, even with the most advanced sequencing, no credible lab can turn results around instantly. You want accuracy, not guesses.”

I leaned forward, my smile razor-sharp. “We’ll use Biogenix.”

“Biogenix,” he repeated slowly.

“Yes. I own the company, remember? We don’t just play with molecules...we run one of the fastest genetic diagnostic programs in the world. We have a branch here in the States. A lab here in New York. State-of-the-art, Carter. While you’ve been busy chasing us, we’ve been building systems that put every competitor ten years behind.”

His jaw flexed, but he said nothing.

I pulled my phone from my bag, dialing a secure number. Within seconds, Kelsey’s crisp voice answered.

“Aurora? Is everything..."

“Everything is fine. But it will take some time before I arrive in France."I interrupted gently.

"What's going on?" She asked me worriedly.

“I need a rapid paternity test. Full sequencing. We’ll run it through the lab in New York."

There was silence, then a sharp intake of breath. “Jace?”

“Yes. He’s here. He agreed to the test.”

There was a beat of silence then Kelsey’s voice hardened, all business. “Send him. I’ll alert the team. We’ll prioritize it. You’ll have results within hours.”

“Thank you.” I hung up and looked Jace dead in the eye. “It’s arranged. All we need is your sample.”

He studied me for a long, silent moment, then gave a sharp nod. “George,” he called.

The assistant reappeared almost instantly.

“Have the car prepared,” Jace ordered. “We’re going to..." Jace turned to me, "where exactly are we headed to?"

"Brooklyn." I told him. "Brooklyn Navy Yard."

George gave a nod as he moved immediately.

The drive was taut with silence. Jace sat beside me in the backseat of his sleek black car, his presence filling the space. I kept my eyes fixed on the city rushing past the tinted windows, but I could feel his gaze burning into me.

There was nothing said between us because there was nothing to be said. I just prayed that this test came out positive.

We arrived at the Biogenix lab just few minutes shy of ten. Security hustled us through side entrances, staff whispered as they caught sight of Jace Carter in their hallways. Kelsey had kept her word, the lab was primed and ready.

The technician was efficient, professional. Two simple swabs from Jace’s mouth, sealed and coded before being rushed into the sequencing machines. The hum of machinery filled the sterile space, lights flickering as algorithms began their work.

“It’ll take a few hours,” the technician explained.

Jace looked unimpressed. “Define a few.”

“Three. Maybe four. Not longer. We’ll have the results processed and verified before dawn.”

We were shown to a private lounge, neutral walls, soft chairs, a table stocked with water and coffee.

Waiting was torture.

I sat rigid, scrolling mindlessly through my phone, pretending I wasn’t unraveling inside. Every tick of the clock was a hammer in my chest. Every silence between us was deafening.

And Jace… he watched me. Always watching. As if he could peel back the layers and see the mother clawing for her son beneath the armor I wore.

Finally, the technician returned with a sealed envelope. His face was carefully neutral, but my heart thundered anyway.

He handed it to me.

My fingers trembled as I tore it open. The words swam for a moment before they sharpened into focus.

Probability of paternity: 99.999%.

The breath left me in a rush, a sound escaping me that was half-sob, half-laugh. Relief surged through me so sharp it nearly broke me in half.

I looked up at Jace, my eyes stinging. “Still going to deny it?”

He didn’t answer immediately. He just looked at me, hazel eyes burning gold under the sterile lab light. His expression unreadable, carved from steel.

Then, at last, he spoke.

“What next?”