“You always did love a monster”

Julian’s claim—they’re mine—hung in the air like a death sentence.

"The DNA doesn't lie," Julian repeated, his voice dropping to a whisper that only Elara could hear. "But you do. You’ve been lying for five years."

"I was surviving!" Elara hissed, her hand white-knuckled on the door handle. "Survival and lying look the same when you’re being hunted by a man who thinks people are property."

Behind her, Marcus stepped forward, his hand resting visibly on the counter where his holster was hidden. "The lady told you to leave, Vance. DNA or no DNA, you’re trespassing."

Julian’s eyes flickered to Marcus, dismissive and cold. "Silas," he murmured.

The lead security guard behind Julian stepped into the light. He held up a tablet. "Marcus Thorne. Former Tier 1 operator. Dishonorable discharge following a 'disagreement' with a superior officer in Kabul. Currently working off-the-books security for high-risk targets. Do you really want to play this game, Marcus? I have a warrant for your arrest on my screen right now. All I have to do is hit 'send' to the NYPD."

Elara felt the air leave her lungs. Julian hadn't just found her; he had dismantled her entire support system in under an hour.

"Stop," Elara commanded, stepping out into the hallway, closing the door behind her so the children wouldn't hear. She stood between the two men, her eyes blazing. "You want the truth, Julian? Fine. You’re the father. Are you happy now? Does that satisfy your ego?"

Julian’s expression didn't soften. If anything, it turned more predatory. "It satisfies my legal standing. I’m not here for an apology, Elara. I’m here for my heirs."

"They aren't 'heirs'!" she shouted, her voice trembling with rage. "They are children! They like dinosaurs and strawberry milk and they cry when they scrape their knees. They don't know what a Vance is, and I won't let you turn them into cold, empty statues like you."

Julian stepped closer, his scent enveloping her. He reached out, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. It wasn't a caress; it was a claim. "You have two choices, Elara. Option one: I call the police, I report you for kidnapping and parental interference, and I take those children tonight. You’ll spend the next decade in a cell, and they’ll grow up in a boarding school in Switzerland never knowing your name."

Elara’s heart stopped. "You wouldn't."

"Try me," he whispered. "Option two: You pack a bag. You and the children come to the penthouse. We play the happy family for the press while my lawyers 'fix' the records. You get everything you ever wanted for them—the best schools, the best doctors, a life of absolute safety."

"And what do you get?" she spat.

"I get what belongs to me," Julian said, his eyes dropping to her lips. "I get the woman who cheated me out of five years of my life. And I get the children who will carry my name."

"And if I say no?"

Julian’s lips curled into a slow, terrifyingly beautiful smile. "Then I dismantle your life. Marcus is put behind bars. And I take the kids anyway. I have more lawyers than you have heartbeats, Elara. Don’t test me."

Before she could scream at him, his phone chirped.

He didn't say a word. He just turned the screen towards her.

Probability of Paternity: 99.99%

I had known the truth, but seeing it in black and white made it final. The secret was dead.

Julian didn't gloat. He didn't cheer. He simply tucked the phone back into his pocket.

“How do I know the results belong to my children? You might as well as faked it.” Elara was trying to steady her voice.

“Our children,” he corrected “And if this was faked, I might as well have faked that night five years ago you spent on my bed, begging me to go slow with you. And the morning after your blood painted my sheets red. Ring a bell?”

Elara looked at Marcus. He looked ready to fight, but they both knew the truth. Against Julian’s billions, a gun was useless.

"Fine," Elara said, her voice sounding like breaking glass. "I’ll come. But under one condition."

Julian tilted his head. "You’re in no position to negotiate."

"I am the only one they trust," she countered, her strength returning. "If you take them by force, they will hate you. You’ll be a monster in their eyes. If you want them to love you—if you want that 'legacy' to be real—then you follow my rules. Marcus stays on as my personal security. And you... you don't touch me. Not until I say so."

A dark, amused glint appeared in Julian’s eyes. He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. "I can agree to the soldier staying. But as for not touching you..." He trailed his hand down to her waist, pulling her flush against him for a brief second. "I give it a month, Elara. You always did love a monster."

He pulled back and looked at his watch. "You have ten minutes to pack. Anything you leave behind will be burned."