Chapter 4: Cold Rejection

The silence in the narrow hallway of the mezzanine felt almost physical.

Julian didn't move, he couldn't. His gaze was glued to the small boy standing in front of Aria. Everything about the child from the shape of his brow to the stubborn line of his chin, was an undeniable mirror image of Julian’s own childhood photographs.

"Leo," Aria said quietly, her voice dropping into a gentle, motherly tone that Julian had never heard her use before. She placed a hand lightly on the boy’s small shoulder, gently pulling him back behind her emerald gown. "It's fine, sweetie. Go back inside with Marcus and your sister."

"He's bothering you," Leo insisted, his dark eyebrows still knitted together as he glared up at Julian. He didn't look scared of the towering billionaire in front of him; he looked annoyed. "I heard him yelling from inside."

"I wasn't yelling, son," Julian said, the word son slipping out of his throat before his brain could stop it. His voice was hoarse, thick with a sudden wave of heat in his chest. He took a fast step forward, dropping to one knee on the cold marble floor so he was at eye level with the child.

"Leo, right?" Julian asked, his voice trembling as he looked into the boy’s gray-blue eyes. "My name is—"

"I know who you are," Leo interrupted smoothly, his tone remarkably flat for a four-year-old. He held up his small silver tablet, displaying a public news article featuring Julian’s corporate headshot. "You're Julian Vance. You run Vance Enterprise, My uncle Marcus told me about your company."

Julian felt a strange, painful flutter in his chest. "Your uncle Marcus?"

"Leo, inside. Now," Aria said, her voice turning firm. She didn't raise her voice, but the authority in her tone made the young boy pause.

Leo looked up at his mother, nodded once, and stepped backward through the frosted glass door, keeping his eyes on Julian until the latch clicked shut.

Julian stood up slowly, his legs feeling heavy. He turned back to Aria, his cold, corporate composure completely shattered.

"Five years," Julian said, his voice dropping to a low, desperate whisper. He took another step toward her, his dark eyes burning. "You disappeared for five years, Aria. You let me believe you drowned in that river, You let me bury an empty casket!"

"I told you downstairs, Mr. Vance," Aria replied calmly, leaning her back against the glass railing and crossing her arms. "You have me confused with someone else. My name is Nyx."

"Stop lying to me!" Julian snapped, stepping directly into her personal space. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to keep her from walking away. "Look at me! Look me in the eye and tell me that boy isn't mine!"

Aria didn't pull her arm away and she didn't flinch. She simply looked down at his fingers wrapped around her wrist, then raised her eyes to meet his with absolute, freezing indifference.

"Release my hand, Mr. Vance," she said softly. "Before I call the gallery security detail and have you removed for assault."

"I don't give a damn about gallery security," Julian rasped out, his grip tightening just a fraction before he forced himself to let go, his fingers trembling as he stepped back. "I know your face and I know your voice. You can call yourself Nyx all you want, but you are my wife."

"Your wife died five years ago, Julian," Aria said smoothly, using his first name for the very first time.

The sound of his name on her lips sent a sharp shock through Julian’s chest, but the words that followed felt like a knife.

"You made that very clear at the Regency Gala," she continued, her voice light, as if she were discussing the weather. "You told her that everything she created belonged to your company. You told her she had no value outside of your name. If a woman like that chose to disappear into a river, why would you care now? You got what you wanted. You got Chloe's collection launched. You kept your corporate assets."

Julian felt the air crush out of his lungs. Every single word she spoke was a mirror held up to his past cruelty, the exact words he had thrown in her face right before she vanished.

"I was wrong," Julian swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Aria... I was wrong about the collection. I was wrong about Chloe. I spent the last five years tearing down everything Chloe built.. "

"I don't care," Aria interrupted flatly.

She took a slow step around him, her heels clicking softly against the floor as she headed toward the private VIP lounge doors.

"I am an artist, Mr. Vance," she said, stopping with her hand on the brass door handle. "I sell paintings to people who can afford them. If you want to buy my work, my agent will send you an invoice. But if you step near my children again, or if you follow me after this exhibition, my legal team will file a restraining order against you so fast your board of directors will read about it in the morning news."

"They are my children too!" Julian barked, stepping toward her. "You think I can't calculate the timeline? You left the night of the gala. Leo is four years old! Do the math, Aria!"

Aria paused. She slowly turned her head, looking over her shoulder at him with a tight, breathtaking smile that carried zero warmth.

"You assume there's only one child, Julian," she whispered softly.

Before Julian could process her words, the door swung open, and Marcus stepped out, flanked by two heavy-set private security guards in black suits.

"Mr. Vance," Marcus said, stepping firmly between Julian and Aria. "This is a private area. The exhibition floor is downstairs. Please exit the upper level immediately."

Julian stared past Marcus at Aria, but she had already stepped inside the VIP room, the heavy frosted glass door closing between them with a solid, definitive thud.

Julian’s chest rose and fell heavily. He stood alone in the hallway, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped animal. His mind was spinning in chaotic circles.

You assume there's only one child.

What did she mean by that?

"Mr. Vance?" one of the security guards asked, taking a respectful step forward. "We need to ask you to return to the main floor, sir."

Julian didn't look at the guard. He pulled his phone from his inner jacket pocket, his fingers moving rapidly across the glass screen as he dialed a direct private extension.

"Mark," Julian said as soon as his chief of security answered on the first ring.

"Yes, Mr. Vance?"

"I need every private investigator on our payroll deployed to the Grand Horizon Gallery right now," Julian ordered, his voice dropping into a hard, dangerous tone that left no room for argument. "I want full surveillance on the woman operating under the name Nyx. I want her flight records, her residence address, her medical history for the last five years, and the birth certificates for every child traveling with her."

"Sir? Is this regarding a corporate competitor?" Mark asked, surprised by the sudden urgency.

"No," Julian said, his eyes fixed on the frosted glass door. "It's about my family. You have two hours to get me those birth certificates, Mark. If you fail, don't bother coming into the office tomorrow."

He hung up the phone without waiting for a response, adjusted his dark suit jacket, and walked back down the grand marble staircase, his mind completely consumed by the image of the small boy with his exact gray-blue eyes.

Meanwhile, inside the VIP room, the mood was quiet.

Maya was sitting on a plush leather sofa, eating a chocolate ice cream cone, while Leo sat next to her, tapping rapidly on his silver tablet screen.

Aria stood by the window, watching the street below. A minute later, she saw Julian emerge from the gallery's front doors. Rain was starting to light up under the streetlamps, but Julian didn't get into his Maybach right away. He stood on the sidewalk, looking directly up at the VIP window where she stood.

"Mommy," Leo said, not looking up from his screen. "I placed a location spoofer on that man's phone when he was kneeling down."

Aria turned around, surprised. "What did you do, Leo?"

Leo held up the tablet, showing a live digital map of the city with a glowing red dot tracking Julian's exact position.

"He tried to look at my tablet screen while he was talking to me," Leo said calmly, taking a bite of his own ice cream cone. "So I ran an auto-sync script into his bluetooth network. Now we can see everywhere his car goes, and he can't track our IP address."

Marcus let out a low whistle from the corner of the room. "The kid's a menace, Aria. He gets that from your side of the family, right?"

Aria couldn't help the small, genuine smile that tugged at the corner of her lips. She walked over, sitting down between her twins and wrapping her arms around them.

"We need to pack our things tonight, Marcus," Aria said, her tone returning to business. "Julian isn't going to drop this. He’s already calling his private security network."

"Where are we going?" Marcus asked.

"We aren't leaving the city," Aria replied, her eyes narrowing as she looked down at the tracking dot on Leo's tablet. "Running away worked five years ago when I needed to protect my pregnancy. But now? Now I have my own capital, my own reputation, and my own power. If Julian wants a war over these children, I'm going to give him one."

An hour later, inside the penthouse office of Vance Enterprise, Julian sat behind his massive mahogany desk.

The lights were off, save for the city skyline glowing through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. On the desk in front of him lay a thick yellow envelope that Mark had delivered ten minutes prior.

Julian’s hands were steady now, but his chest was tight as he pulled out the documents.

Inside were two official international birth certificates issued by a private hospital in London four years ago.

He read the first one:

Child Name: Leo Montgomery Vance-Nyx.

Mother: Aria Montgomery (Nyx).

Father: Undisclosed.

He pulled out the second document:

Child Name: Maya Montgomery Vance-Nyx.

Mother: Aria Montgomery (Nyx).

Father: Undisclosed.

Julian’s breath hitched. Twins. She had been pregnant with twins the night she walked out on him.

He leaned back in his leather chair, covering his face with his hands as a violent wave of remorse and fury hit him all at once. She had raised his son and daughter in another country for four years, keeping them completely hidden from him while he mourned over an empty grave.

Suddenly, his desk phone chimed with a private alert.

Julian pulled his hands away from his face and picked up the receiver. "What?"

"Mr. Vance," his head of security reported nervously. "We just tracked Miss Nyx's transport. She didn't head to the airport, sir."

Julian stood up immediately. "Where did she go?"

"She just checked into the penthouse suite at the St. Regis Hotel," Mark replied. "And sir... she just authorized a public press release for tomorrow morning. She's hosting a live televised press conference to announce the Nyx International Art Foundation. It's independent, sir. The funding is held offshore in Zurich, and nobody in the industry knows who's behind it."

Julian’s dark eyes flashed in the dim office light. A slow, dangerous smile crept onto his face, the first real emotion he had shown in five years.

"Mark," Julian said into the receiver. "Call off the investigators. Nobody follows her, and nobody goes near those children. One man outside the hotel, at a distance, for their protection. That is all."

"Sir? But you said..."

"I know what I said."

He set the receiver down.

"She's staying," Julian whispered to the empty office.

He grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and walked toward his private elevator.

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Mark again. "Cancel all my meetings for tomorrow morning," Julian ordered as the elevator doors opened. "I'm going to a press conference."