CHAPTER 20 — THE PRESCHOOL

Lorenzo didn't sleep.

Marcus watched him at 2 AM still in the tuxedo shirt from the gala, holding a small red toy car.

It was Leo's fast one. The one Leo had left on the balcony table last night after Lorenzo gave it back. On purpose.

"Run it," Lorenzo said.

Marcus frowned. "Sir?"

"Run the boy. Leo S. Age four and a half. Mother Aria Sinclair, Atelier S. I want everything."

"That's— sir, that's Aria's son."

Lorenzo looked up. His grey eyes were bloodshot.

"I know."

He put the car down carefully.

"And don't tell her I asked."

At 8:30 AM, Aria was late.

Paris flight was 6 AM tomorrow. Last fitting before Paris was 9 AM. Leo's preschool started at 8 AM and Mrs. Patel was still sick.

She ran into Little Acorns on 72nd, Leo's hand in hers. He was in his little blue uniform, backpack bigger than him, only one red car inside. The strong one.

"Missing car?" she whispered.

"I left fast one for car man," Leo said. "On table. So he keeps him safe."

Aria's heart stopped. "Leo

"Mama, we late!"

She kissed his head and pushed the door open. Mrs. Jenkins, the teacher, smiled.

"Leo! We have a visitor today—

And then Aria saw him.

Lorenzo Blackwood.

Sitting on a tiny wooden chair in a preschool classroom full of four-year-olds. His knees up to his chest. Suit jacket off. Sleeves rolled. Holding a book about trucks.

Every mother in the room was staring.

"Mama, it's car man!" Leo shouted and let go of her hand.

Aria froze in the doorway.

Lorenzo looked up. Saw her. And stood, too fast, hitting his knee on the tiny table.

"Aria."

"What are you doing here?" she said, low, so only he heard.

Mrs. Jenkins answered for him, beaming. "Mr. Blackwood is our sponsor! Blackwood Foundation donated new library! He wanted to meet the children!"

Lorenzo's lie was smooth. But his eyes were on Leo.

"I — I wanted to return this," he said, pulling the little red fast car from his pocket. "You left it."

Leo gasped. "You kept him safe!"

"I kept him safe," Lorenzo repeated.

Leo took it and put it with the strong one. Both cars together again in his palm.

"Now brothers together," Leo said to Lorenzo, serious. "Like you said."

Lorenzo knelt again. Same as last night. Natural now.

"Do brothers ever fight?" Lorenzo asked.

"Yes," Leo said. "But then they say sorry and share cars."

Lorenzo laughed. A short, broken laugh.

Aria watched. This was worse than the gala. At the gala it was a moment. Here it was morning. Normal. A father who could have been there every morning.

"Mr. Blackwood, would you read to them?" Mrs. Jenkins asked.

Lorenzo looked at Aria. Asking permission.

She wanted to say no. She wanted to drag Leo out.

But Leo was already pulling Lorenzo's sleeve. "Read the truck one! The red one wins!"

So Aria nodded once. Cold queen mask on.

Lorenzo sat on the tiny chair again and opened the book. Leo sat on the floor at his feet, not with other kids. Right at his feet. Two red cars on his lap.

"This truck was fast," Lorenzo read, voice low. "But he was alone."

Leo listened like it was the only story in the world.

Aria stood at the back, arms crossed, phone buzzing — Vanessa about last fitting, Vogue about Paris, Rhys about dinner — all ignored.

She took a second photo without thinking. Not for Goodnovel. For herself.

Lorenzo Blackwood reading in a preschool, Leo leaning against his leg.

After storytime, Leo stood and hugged Lorenzo's leg. Quick, tight.

"Thank you for keeping fast car safe, car man."

Lorenzo went still. His hand hovered over Leo's head. He didn't pat. He didn't know how.

"Anytime," he whispered.

Leo ran to Aria. "Mama we can go now!"

Aria took his hand. Did not look at Lorenzo.

"My office. 3 PM," she said, cold. "If you want to discuss sponsorship, you discuss with Atelier S founder. Not in my son's classroom."

She walked out.

Outside, Leo skipped. "Car man reads good."

"Yes," Aria said, eyes burning.

"He has same eyes as me and same car as me," Leo said. "Does he have a son too?"

Aria knelt on the sidewalk, fixed his backpack.

"No, love. He doesn't."

"Then he can be my dad's brother?"

That broke her.

"No, Leo. Come, we have last fitting. Paris tomorrow."

Behind them, through the small classroom window, Lorenzo watched them go. The tiny chair empty beside him. The red car book still open on his lap.

Marcus texted: DNA results would take 48 hours if you

Lorenzo typed back: Don't. I don't need a test to know what I saw.

He deleted it. Typed again: Cancel all my afternoon meetings. 3 PM Atelier S office.