Chapter 3: The Lie in the Blood

Houston’s fingers crushed the drawing. His knuckles were white, his eyes two burning coals fixed on Brittany’s face.

"I’ll ask you one more time," he rasped, the paper crinkling under his grip. "Whose children are these?"

"They’re Talia’s!" Brittany shouted, the lie flying out of her mouth before she could think. 

"She’s my neighbor. She... she has triplets. I help her watch them. They must have slipped that into my pocket when I was leaving for the auction."

Houston stepped closer, his shadow swallowing her. 

"Triplets? That’s a very specific coincidence, Brittany. Dark eyes. Defiant smirks. 

"The world is full of dark-eyed kids, Houston! Not everything is about you!"

He stared at her for a long, agonizing minute. Then, he turned and barked at the door.

 "Bring the woman in. Now."

Talia Rossi marched in, looking like a whirlwind in a thrift-store leather jacket. She looked at the gold-leafed ceiling, then at Houston, then at Brittany.

"Is this the guy?" Talia asked, pointing a thumb at Houston. 

"The five-million-dollar man? Honestly, Brit, I expected him to be older. 

And maybe less... pointy."

"Talia, shut up," Brittany hissed.

"Ms. Rossi," Houston said, his voice a low vibration of threat. 

"Brittany tells me these are your children." He held up the drawing.

Talia didn't miss a beat. She squinted at the paper. 

"Oh, yeah. That’s Leo’s work. He’s in a 'stick figure' phase. Very avant-garde. Why? You looking to commission a piece, Big Boss?"

Houston’s eyes narrowed. 

"You have triplets? Three of them?"

"Two boys, one girl. A literal nightmare," Talia said, crossing her arms. 

"And if I don't get back to them soon, they’re going to dismantle my apartment and sell the copper wiring. 

So, are we done here? Or are you going to pay me for the babysitting hours Brittany is missing?"

Houston walked a slow circle around Talia. The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. 

"If they’re yours... why did Brittany say she needed 'important medicine' for them?"

Brittany’s heart hammered. "I said I had medicine I needed to get! Noah—I mean, her son Noah—has asthma!"

Talia nodded frantically. "Yeah, he wheezes like an old radiator. It’s a whole thing. 

Look, can we go? This house smells like 'I sue people for fun' and it's giving me a rash."

Houston stopped in front of Brittany. He reached out, his thumb catching her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. For a second, his eyes softened, searching hers with a raw intensity that made her knees weak.

"You’re a terrible liar, Brittany," he whispered. 

"You always were. Your eyes go wide and your pulse jumps right here." He pressed his thumb against the vein in her neck.

"I'm not lying," she breathed, though her heart was betraying her.

"Five years," Houston said, his voice dropping. 

"Five years since you crawled out of my bed and vanished. I woke up to a cold pillow and a note saying you’d gone to 'specialized nursing school' in London. No phone number. No address. Just... gone."

"I had to go, Houston. My father—"

"Your father told me you found a richer benefactor," Houston spat, the ice returning. 

"He told me you laughed when he asked if you’d stay for me. 

And yet... looking at you now, in this cheap red dress, with those same stubborn eyes... you don't look like a girl who found a better deal."

"I didn't leave for a man, Houston!" she cried, the truth bubbling up. 

"I left because your mother told me I was the anchor dragging you into the ocean! She said if I stayed, she’d cut off your inheritance and let the Vane Empire crumble. I was twenty! I thought I was saving you!"

The silence that followed was deafening. Even Talia stopped fidgeting.

Houston’s grip on her chin tightened. "You thought I cared about the money? You thought I wouldn't have burned this whole empire to the ground for you?"

"I didn't know that then!"

"And the kids?" Houston’s voice was a lethal whisper. "If I find out those three 'reasons' at the gate have my blood in their veins, Brittany... there won't be a corner of this earth where you can hide from me."

He turned to the guard at the door. "Take Ms. Rossi home. 

Send a private medic to her apartment with whatever 'medicine' she needs. 

And tell my private investigator I want DNA samples from that trash can by morning."

Talia’s eyes went wide. "Hey! You can't just—"

"Go," Houston commanded.

As the guards led a protesting Talia out, Brittany felt the walls closing in. She was trapped.

"You haven't changed at all," Houston said, stepping so close she could feel the heat radiating off his chest. He reached out, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. His touch was a paradox—cruel and incredibly tender. 

"Still beautiful. Still a martyr. Still trying to carry the world on your shoulders."

"Houston, please. Don't do this."

"I’ve already done it, Brittany." He leaned down, his lips inches from hers. "You’re staying in the room next to mine. 

If you try to leave, I’ll have your father arrested for fraud by sunrise. And as for the triplets... if they really are Talia’s, you have nothing to worry about. Right?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He turned on his heel and walked out, locking the door from the outside.

Brittany collapsed onto the bed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She looked at the door, then at the window. She had to get to her phone. She had to warn Talia to get the kids out of the city before the DNA results came back.

But as she stood up, a shadow moved by the balcony.

"Going somewhere, cousin-in-law?"

Craig was sitting on the railing, a wicked smirk on his face, holding Brittany’s confiscated cell phone in his hand. It was vibrating. The caller ID read: HOME - NOAH.

"Give me that," Brittany lunged for it, but Craig held it high, his eyes gleaming with malice.

"I'll give it to you," Craig drawled, "but first, why don't you tell me why a four-year-old is calling you 'Mommy' on the lock screen?"