All Chapters of The CEO’s Secret Triplets: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The boardroom felt like an empty lung. The oxygen had left with Bella, leaving Dante standing in a silence so thick it was suffocating. He didn't look at the doors. He looked at the business card. Vance & Associates. The blue ink dinosaur was still there, a messy, three-legged ghost staring back at him.​He reached for the intercom. His finger hovered over the button, trembling just enough to be a lie.​"Marcus," Dante said.​"Sir?" Marcus’s voice was thin, coming through the speaker like static. He was likely already halfway to the elevators, terrified for his job.​"The audit stays. Do not touch the Singapore files. If a single byte of data is deleted, I’ll personally oversee your severance."​"Understood, sir. And... the woman? Ms. Vance?"​Dante looked at the park bench photo on his screen. Gray eyes. Three of them, he assumed, if the math held.​"I want a deep dive. Not the usual corporate scrub. I want to know where she bought her coffee for the last thousand days. I want school

Chapter 4: The Genetic Covenant​The penthouse didn't feel like a home. It felt like a vault. The elevator doors slid open with a whisper, depositing Bella into a foyer of white marble and glass that overlooked the jagged teeth of the Manhattan skyline. There was no music. No scent of dinner. Just the low, pressurized hum of a climate control system that cost more than her law degree. The air here was thinner, colder, stripped of the grit and noise of the city below.​Dante was waiting in the library. It was a room of dark wood and leather, lined with books that looked like they hadn't been touched in a century. He wasn't alone.​A man in a charcoal suit sat at the long conference table in the center of the room. He was older, with wire-rimmed glasses and a face that seemed carved from the same granite as the building. Beside him sat a briefcase, open and organized with terrifying precision.​"You’re late," Dante said. He was standing by the bar, a glass of amber liquid in his hand th

​The library was colder than the hallway. The morning sun cutting through the floor-to-ceiling windows did nothing to warm the atmosphere. Arthur Vance sat at the center of the mahogany table, three folders laid out before him with the kind of geometric precision that suggested he had spent the last six hours measuring the distance between the margins.​Bella sat across from him, her posture a rigid line of defiance. She hadn’t slept. The shadows under her eyes were the only cracks in her professional armor. She kept her hands in her lap, hidden beneath the table, so Dante wouldn’t see the way her fingers twisted together.​Dante stood by the fireplace. He wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at the folders. He had traded his suit jacket for a dark sweater, but he looked no less lethal.​"The Zurich lab returned the results at 0200 hours," Arthur began, his voice dropping into the clinical tone of a man reading a death warrant. "The markers are definitive. Probability of paternity fo

The penthouse at the top of the Blackwood tower was a marvel of negative space. It was a cathedral of glass and shadow, designed to make the rest of the world feel small. On the lower level, the lights of Manhattan were a chaotic blur, but up here, everything was muted. Controlled.Bella stood in the center of the living room on the thirty-fourth floor—her floor. The movers had finished an hour ago, and the familiar clutter of her life sat in jarring contrast to the stark perfection of the suite. A bin of mismatched socks sat on a white marble countertop. A stack of frayed picture books rested on a sofa that cost more than her last three consulting contracts.The kids were down. It had taken two hours to convince Toby that the "sky lights" weren't going to fall on him, and another hour to get Maya to stop counting the floors. Leo had been the easiest; the new medical suite on this level was so quiet, so efficient, that he had drifted off before the nurse had even finished the first ch

The velvet box sat on the marble table like a live wire. Neither of them touched it. Toby had gone back to his car, and Maya was busy trying to peel a stubborn sticker off her shoe, but the air in the room had changed. It was no longer a nursery; it was a negotiation suite."A contract," Bella said. Her voice was thin, but she didn’t let it shake. She sat down, not in the comfortable recliner, but in the hard-backed chair she usually used for the audit. "That’s what this is. You aren’t asking for a wife, Dante. You’re asking for a co-signatory."Dante remained standing. He had discarded his tie somewhere between the thirty-third floor and here, the top button of his shirt open, revealing the tension in his neck. He looked at the box, then back at her."I’m asking for a shield," Dante corrected. "The board doesn't respond to sentiment. They respond to structure. If I walk back down there with a verbal promise to 'protect' my children, they’ll vote for a Protector before the elevator hi