INICIAR SESIÓNSophie PovI had been waiting for silence.The kind of silence that felt safe.But instead, silence turned into a storm.Because Kattie told him.She told Lucas the one truth I had fought to bury.And the moment the words left her lips, my world caved in.Lucas came home like a fire.The door slammed so hard the frames rattled.His footsteps were thunder.His breathing was a storm.I froze in the living room, my heart racing like prey waiting for the predator to strike.He stood there, his chest rising and falling fast, his fists clenched at his sides.His eyes burned with betrayal.“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asked.His voice was sharp, loud, and unforgiving.I opened my mouth, but no words came out.The floor might as well have split beneath me.He took a step closer.The veins in his neck tightened.“You let me raise him,” he growled.“You let me believe he was mine. And all this time—you knew there was a chance.”I shook my head desperately.“It wasn’t like that, Lucas.”
I woke up before dawn.The house was quiet, but my mind was not at rest.Every corner of my chest throbbed with dread.The air felt heavy, like even the walls knew what was coming.I turned to the side of the bed and looked at Ethan, curled up with his blanket halfway across his chest.His lips were parted slightly, his breath soft and even.My son.My miracle.My secret.I reached out and touched his hair gently.His strands slipped through my fingers, warm and silky.How could I tell him?How could I prepare a child for a truth that could rip apart everything he had ever known?But Kattie’s words still echoed in my head.Prepare Ethan now.Her voice wouldn’t leave me.Her eyes had carried the weight of a warning, almost as if she knew the walls were cracking faster than I could patch them.I slipped out of bed carefully, my bare feet brushing against the cold wooden floor.The kitchen smelled faintly of last night’s dinner, but it didn’t comfort me.I poured myself a glass of water
Sophie’s POVI thought I had already reached the peak of my fear.I was wrong.When Kattie appeared again, it wasn’t like a friend returning home. It was like a shadow slipping under a locked door. One moment I was sitting in the quiet of my living room, clutching a glass of water I hadn’t even tasted, and the next, her voice cut through the air.“You need to prepare Ethan.”The glass nearly slipped from my fingers. My heart jolted so violently I thought it might tear free from my chest. “Kattie?” My voice came out sharp, cracked, uncertain.She stepped inside as if she had never been gone, like she hadn’t left me alone in the storm of Damien’s obsession. But something in her was different. Her eyes were colder, sharper, carrying a weight I couldn’t read.“What are you doing here?” I managed to ask, though my throat felt tight and my words were weak.She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she placed a slim folder on the coffee table. My eyes fixed on it, terrified of what it m
Damien’s POVThe decision was no longer a thought.It was a plan.A map in my mind with no exits.I had given Hale my final instructions that morning.The test would happen.Blood, DNA, truth—stripped bare.He stood before me in my office, file tucked under his arm, his eyes too eager.I knew the look of a man who wanted more than money.I saw ambition.There was also danger.But ambition could be used, and danger could be contained.“Everything’s lined up,” Hale said, his tone crisp.“I’ve contacted the clinic. It is discreet and, Reliable. No trail back to you.”I leaned back, fingers tapping against the desk.“Good, I don’t care how you do it, I just want results.”My reflection in the glass wall stared back at me—sharp suit, sharper eyes, a man haunted by the shadow of a boy.Ethan.That name had become an echo in my skull.I thought about the contest stage again.The way his brow arched.The tilt of his jaw.The way he adjusted the mic—my way, my rhythm, my blood whispering in
Damien’s POVThe words were already burning my tongue before I spoke them.“A paternity test.”Sophie froze.Her lips parted slightly, her eyes widening just enough to betray what I already knew.Fear.She masked it quickly, trying to pull her composure back around her like a cloak.But she was too late.I’d seen the crack.And once you see a crack, you know the wall is already broken.Her knuckles whitened as she clutched her purse.“Damien,” she whispered, voice trembling. “Don’t do this.”Her plea was music to my ears, because it meant I was right.I stepped closer, keeping my voice low.“This ends now. One test. One answer. That’s all I need.”She shook her head furiously, tears brimming.“You don’t understand what you’re asking.”“Oh, I do.”My tone was ice.I leaned closer until she could feel the heat of my breath.“I’m asking for what’s mine.”Her throat tightened.Her silence screamed louder than words.I had her.For years, I’d lived with shadows, questions, and regrets.For
Damien’s POVThe boy was smaller than I expected up close. Ethan’s frame held the lanky awkwardness of a child on the cusp of adolescence.His dark hair fell into his eyes as he bent over the sketchpad in front of him. A splash of color—crimson crayon streaked across the page—caught my attention. He didn’t look up when I entered the room.For a moment, I froze at the threshold.Was I trespassing? Was this too soon?But no, I had already gone too far. I couldn’t turn back now. I cleared my throat lightly, the sound low and deliberate. Ethan glanced up. His eyes—deep, storm-gray, unsettlingly familiar—met mine.My chest tightened.I had seen those eyes once before. In the mirror, when I was younger.“Hi Ethan,” I said carefully, forcing my voice into a gentle cadence I rarely used with anyone. “That’s… an impressive drawing.”He blinked, his pencil hovering mid-stroke. He didn’t smile. Children rarely lie with their faces. He was cautious and guarded in the way he studied m







