Chapter 7: The Shark in Stilettos

The morning sun hit the penthouse windows with the force of a spotlight, waking Maya from a restless sleep.

She sat up, her hand instinctively going to the pillow next to her. Leo and Mia were still asleep, tangled in the high-thread-count sheets. Leo was clutching his tablet like a teddy bear.

The chip.

Maya reached under Leo’s pillow and retrieved the small silver rectangle. It felt cold against her skin. This wasn't just a stolen piece of tech anymore; it was a master key to the global economy. If Julian knew she had it, he wouldn't just fire her. He would bury her.

She needed to hide it somewhere he would never look.

She went to the bathroom and quickly dressed in her "assistant disguise"—the drab grey suit. She wrapped the chip in a tissue and tucked it securely inside the lining of her bra. It was a cliché, but it was the only place on her body she could guarantee Julian Thorne wouldn't be patting down.

At least, she hoped not.

"Okay team," she whispered, waking the kids. "Game faces on. Remember: Daddy is just a boss. We are just guests. And Leo... no hacking the toaster."

Leo yawned. "The toaster has weak encryption anyway."

Downstairs, the smell of expensive coffee and bacon filled the air.

Julian was already awake. He sat at the head of the long marble dining table, reading a newspaper on a tablet. He looked annoyingly perfect—crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, dark hair freshly styled.

"Sit," he said without looking up.

Maya ushered the kids to the chairs. A housekeeper silently placed plates of pancakes in front of them.

"Wow!" Mia gasped, her eyes widening. "They have chocolate chips inside!"

Julian lowered his tablet. He looked at Mia, and for a split second, the mask of the "Ice King" slipped. He looked fascinated.

"Eat," Julian commanded, though his voice lacked its usual bite. "My doctor will be here in twenty minutes."

"I'm not hungry," Maya said, crossing her arms. "I want to know what happens after the test, Julian. Assuming the results are what I say they are—that he's not the father—do we get to leave?"

Julian took a slow sip of his black coffee. "If the results prove no relation, I will apologize for the inconvenience, sign a generous severance package, and you may return to your... life."

"And if they are positive?" Leo asked, cutting through the tension. He wasn't eating. He was staring at Julian with calculating eyes.

Julian turned his gaze to the boy. "Then you stay. Thorne blood does not grow up in poverty."

"I like poverty," Leo lied smoothly. "Better Wi-Fi."

Julian almost smiled. It was a terrifying sight.

Before he could respond, the private elevator dinged loudly.

Maya stiffened. The doctor was early.

But when the doors slid open, it wasn't a man in a white coat. It was a woman.

She was stunning, in a terrifying way. She wore a red designer dress that cost more than Maya’s entire existence, five-inch stiletto heels that clicked sharply on the marble, and a look of pure entitlement. Her blonde hair was a helmet of perfection.

"Julian!" she cooed, sweeping into the room. "You didn't answer my texts last night. I was worried."

She walked right up to Julian and placed a proprietary hand on his shoulder, leaning down to kiss his cheek. Julian didn't lean into it, but he didn't push her away either.

Maya felt a strange, hot spike of jealousy in her chest. She squashed it immediately. He’s not yours, Maya. He never was.

The woman turned, her eyes scanning the room. She saw Maya. Then she saw the kids. Her smile vanished instantly, replaced by a look of disgust, as if she had found a roach on the carpet.

"Julian," she said, her voice turning sharp. "Why is the cleaning staff eating at the main table?"

Maya bristled. "I am not the cleaning staff."

"This is Maya Lin," Julian said calmly, removing the woman’s hand from his shoulder. "My new executive assistant."

"Assistant?" The woman looked Maya up and down, sneering at the grey suit and the messy bun. "You really are scraping the bottom of the barrel, darling. And these?" She gestured to Leo and Mia with a manicured hand. "Did she bring her litter to work? It’s unprofessional."

"Hey!" Mia shouted, standing up on her chair. "I am not litter! I am Mia!"

"And I’m Leo," Leo added, glaring at the woman. "And your perfume has a chemical composition that is highly flammable. You should not stand near the stove."

The woman gasped, taking a step back. "Julian! Control these brats!"

"Maya," Julian said, his voice cool. "Meet Elena Vance. My fiancée."

The world stopped.

Fiancée.

Maya felt the blood drain from her face. She looked at Julian. He was watching her closely, gauging her reaction. His expression was unreadable.

"Fiancée," Maya repeated, the word tasting like ash. "I didn't know you were engaged."

"It is a recent arrangement," Elena said smugly, stepping closer to Julian. "A merger of two great families. Not that you would understand high society politics."

She turned back to Julian. "Darling, kick them out. We have a brunch with the Wedding Planner at ten."

"They are staying," Julian said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried the weight of finality. "And you are leaving, Elena."

Elena blinked, stunned. "Excuse me?"

"I have business to attend to," Julian said, standing up. "Private business. I will see you at the gala on Saturday. Goodbye."

It was a dismissal. Brutal and efficient.

Elena’s face turned a blotchy shade of red. She glared at Maya, then at the kids. "This isn't over," she hissed. "I don't know what game you are playing, little assistant, but I always win."

She spun on her heels and stormed back to the elevator.

As the doors closed, the silence in the room was deafening.

"She seems nice," Leo deadpanned.

"She is a shark," Julian muttered, sitting back down. "But she is a shark with a very large bank account that my board of directors requires."

He looked at Maya. "You look pale."

"I’m fine," Maya lied, though her hand unconsciously went to her chest, pressing against the hidden chip. "Just... surprised."

"Don't be," Julian said darkly. "In my world, marriage is a contract. Not a fairy tale."

The elevator dinged again.

This time, a man in a white coat stepped out, carrying a medical bag.

"Mr. Thorne," the doctor said, nodding. "I’m ready for the collection."

Julian stood up. He walked around the table and stood behind Leo and Mia. He placed his large hands on their chairs, claiming them.

"Proceed," Julian commanded.

Maya’s heart hammered against her ribs. She watched as the doctor unpacked the sterile swabs.

"Open wide," the doctor said to Leo.

Leo looked at Maya. She gave a microscopic nod. We have to do this.

Leo opened his mouth. The doctor swabbed his cheek. Then Mia’s.

Then he turned to Julian.

"And you, sir?"

Julian opened his mouth without hesitation. The doctor swabbed him, sealing the sample in a vial labeled Subject A.

"I will run the rapid sequence," the doctor said, packing up. "You will have the results in twelve hours."

"Twelve hours," Julian repeated, looking at Maya.

The doctor left.

Maya stood up, her legs shaking. "Can I go to my room now? I have... work to do."

"Go," Julian said.

She grabbed the kids and hurried toward the stairs.

"Maya," Julian called out just as she reached the first step.

She stopped, turning around.

Julian was holding up something. It was a small, plastic hair clip—a cheap, pink thing that must have fallen out of Mia’s hair. He held it with a strange gentleness.

"Do not try to leave the building," he said softly. "The exits are sealed."

"I know," Maya whispered.

She ran up the stairs, the weight of the chip pressing against her heart, and the weight of Julian’s gaze burning into her back.

Twelve hours.

The clock had started.