Chapter 8 - Proof Is a Dangerous Thing

Ethan had built an empire on certainty. Numbers didn’t lie. Contracts didn’t hesitate. Power responded to pressure, but the truth he wanted now refused to be cornered.

He stood in his office long after midnight, city lights reflecting against the glass, the unopened DNA test kit resting in his desk drawer like a loaded weapon.

One test. One answer. And everything would change.

He hadn’t ordered it lightly. In fact, he hadn’t ordered it at all, because for the first time in his life, Ethan Blackwood was afraid of what proof might take away from him.

The next morning, he met his mother for lunch. Margaret Blackwood studied him over the rim of her teacup, eyes sharp and perceptive.

“You’re distracted,” she said calmly. “And you only look like that when something you can’t control is slipping.”

Ethan didn’t reply immediately.

“There’s a child,” he said finally.

Her brows lifted slightly. “Yours?”

“I don’t know.”

Margaret set her cup down slowly. “And Serena?”

Ethan’s jaw tightened. “She won’t confirm it.”

“She wouldn’t,” Margaret said quietly. “Not after how you treated her.”

“That was business,” Ethan said automatically.

Margaret’s gaze hardened. “No. That was arrogance.”

The word struck deeper than he expected.

“You walked away from your wife like she was a bad investment,” she continued. “If that child is yours, Ethan, understand this...”

She leaned forward.

“You don’t get to claim him with money or lawyers. Not first.”

Ethan said nothing.

Across the city, Serena sat in her lawyer’s office, posture straight, voice steady.

“He obtained a copy of my son’s birth certificate,” she said. “Without my consent.”

Her lawyer frowned. “That’s concerning.”

“I want to lock everything down,” Serena said calmly. “School records. Medical files. Any loose ends.”

“We can file for additional protections,” the lawyer said. “But if he’s suspecting...”

“Suspecting isn’t proving,” Serena replied.

She stood, adjusting her coat.

“I won’t let him turn my child into leverage.”

That afternoon, Ethan watched from his car as Serena picked Leo up from school.

He didn’t approach. He didn’t follow.

He simply watched the way she bent down to listen to him, the way Leo leaned into her instinctively, safe and certain.

The boy laughed, and something inside Ethan twisted painfully. That laugh should have been familiar. He drove away before Serena noticed.

That night, Ethan finally opened the desk drawer. The DNA kit stared back at him. He closed it again.

Proof would give him rights but it would also give Serena reason to fight.

And for the first time, he didn’t want to win. He wanted… permission.

Serena sensed the shift.

Ethan backed off, no messages, no appearances, no pressure. That worried her more than pursuit ever could. Silence was strategy. And Ethan Blackwood was very good at strategy.

She stood in her kitchen late that night, staring at the city lights, phone in hand.

A message appeared.

I won’t cross your boundaries.

But I won’t pretend he doesn’t exist.

— Ethan

Her fingers tightened around the phone.

She typed slowly.

Then accept this:

You are not his father in practice, regardless of biology.
And you don’t get to change that by force.

The reply came almost immediately.

I won’t force anything.

She didn’t answer.

Later, as Serena tucked Leo into bed, he looked up at her thoughtfully.

“Mom,” he said, “why do grown-ups make things complicated?”

She smiled softly. “Because they’re afraid of getting hurt.”

“Are you afraid?” he asked.

She brushed his hair back gently.

“Not anymore,” she said.

And that was the truth.

In his penthouse, Ethan stood alone, city spread beneath him like a kingdom he suddenly didn’t want.

Power had always been his shield. But now, the only thing standing between him and the truth was restraint.

And restraint was a weakness he had never learned to master. The DNA kit remained unopened for now because some proof didn’t just change the future, It destroyed the past.