CHAPTER 3: THE WOLF AT THE DOOR
She walked into the hospital room with a team of lawyers and a wicked smile. "That child is a scam," she claimed. But she didn't know the billionaire was prepared to burn her empire to the ground...
Caleb stood up slowly. His massive frame completely shielded Grace and Ellie from his mother’s cold gaze. The air in the room instantly dropped below freezing.
"Get out," Caleb said, his voice quiet, flat, and deadlier than any shout.
Victoria smirked, stepping further into the room. Her high heels clicked sharply against the linoleum floor. "Don't be dramatic, Caleb. I am here to protect you from yourself. Do you honestly believe this... this street rat is yours? She vanished for six years, lived in the gutters, and now that she’s dying and broke, she suddenly produces a child that conveniently looks a bit like you?"
"Grandma?" Ellie whispered from the bed, her small voice cutting through the tension.
"Don't you dare call me that, you little parasite," Victoria snapped, her eyes flashing with disgust as she looked at the child.
"Victoria!" Caleb roared, a sound so fierce it made the window panes rattle. He stepped forward, towering over his mother. "If you speak to my daughter like that again, I will strip you of every asset, every share, and every security clearance you have in Whitmore Solutions by sunset. Do not test me."
Victoria didn't flinch. Instead, she waved her hand, and one of her lawyers stepped forward, opening a leather briefcase.
"I expected your childish sentimentality, Caleb. That's why I took the liberty of having a private DNA analysis done," Victoria said smoothly, pulling out a document.
"We obtained a hair sample from the child downstairs before she reached your office. According to this official lab report from Boston Genetic Labs, there is a zero percent probability of paternal match between you and Elizabeth Holay. This woman is a fraud, Caleb. She is trying to trap you into a massive alimony and child support settlement."
Grace gasped, her face turning even paler. "That's a lie! I have never been with anyone else! Caleb, I swear to you, she is your daughter!"
Caleb took the paper from Victoria's hand. He scanned the official-looking seals, the complex charts, and the final, damning conclusion at the bottom.
He looked at his mother. Victoria held her head high, a triumphant, wicked smile playing at the corners of her lips. She thought she had won. She thought she had successfully executed another corporate assassination of the heart.
Caleb slowly ripped the paper in half. Then in quarters. He let the pieces flutter to the floor like cheap confetti.
"You really think I’m that stupid, Mother?" Caleb asked quietly. "You own thirty percent of Boston Genetic Labs. You bought their parent company three years ago."
Victoria’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second.
"I don't trust a single breath that comes out of your mouth," Caleb continued, pulling his phone from his pocket. He dialed a private number. "Marcus. Bring the mobile medical team from our private clinic to Memorial Hospital, Room 307. Now. I want a rapid-sequence DNA test, swab and blood, done under my personal supervision. And bring a private security detail of twelve men. No one enters or leaves this floor without my direct permission."
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Caleb hung up and looked at his mother, his eyes burning with a promise of war.
"You have two minutes to leave this room, Victoria. Because if you are still here when my security arrives, I will have you dragged out of this hospital in front of every media outlet in New England."
