Chapter 3 - The DNA Deception Exposed
Back in the sterile examination room of Saint Jude Clinic, the silence was so heavy it felt physical.
"Doctor... repeat that," Adrian whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and blind rage. "What kind of sick joke are you playing? Chloe! Tell him he's insane!"
Chloe was shaking violently, her hands clutching the edges of her silk robe as tears streamed down her face. "Adrian, please! Don't listen to him! The doctor—he must have mixed up the charts! It's a mistake!"
"There is no mistake, Ms. Vanderbilt," Dr. Reynolds said coldly, turning the monitor around so the bold, unyielding data stared them right in the face. "As a specialist in prenatal genetics, I personally oversaw this sequencing. The fetus you are carrying possesses a rare chromosomal deletion—Chromosome 18 mosaicism—which is genetically traceable only through the maternal line and a specific donor profile registered in our international database last year."
Margaret Castillo stood up, her face flushed with a terrifying shade of crimson. "Doctor Reynolds, do you know who we are? We are the Castillos! My son is a titan in real estate! You cannot sit here and accuse this innocent girl of—"
"Quiet, Mother!" Adrian roared, spinning around to face Chloe. The veneer of polished sophistication shattered entirely, revealing the desperate, savage predator underneath. "Is it true? Look at me! Is this child not mine?"
Chloe burst into theatrical hysterics, sobbing wildly. "Adrian, I did it for us! I wanted to secure your love! I knew your family wanted an heir so badly, and when we were having trouble—"
"Trouble?" Adrian screamed, grabbing a metal clipboard off the counter and slamming it against the wall. "We never tried! You told me you were fertile! You told me this was our miracle!"
"It is a miracle for someone else!" Vanessa shrieked, her hands flying to her face in utter horror. "My God... whose is it, Chloe? Who is the father?"
Before Chloe could answer, the heavy oak door of the examination room clicked open. A tall, impeccably dressed man stepped inside, holding a leather briefcase. It wasn't a hospital administrator. It was Julian Vance—Adrian’s chief business partner and primary financial backer in Castillo Holdings.
Julian looked around the room, taking in Adrian’s wild expression, Chloe’s tear-stained face, and Margaret’s trembling posture. A slow, cold smile spread across Julian's lips.
"Ah, I see the doctor has delivered the good news," Julian said smoothly, stepping further into the room.
Adrian froze, his brain struggling to bridge the impossible chasm between his business partner and his pregnant mistress. "Julian? What... what are you doing here? What does this have to do with you?"
Julian adjusted his silk tie, his eyes gleaming with calculated malice.
"Everything, Adrian. Absolutely everything. Chloe and I realized months ago that you were too blinded by your own arrogance to manage Castillo Holdings properly. You needed an heir to secure the board's confidence. So... we decided to help you out. Biological efficiency, you understand."
The room spun. Adrian stumbled backward against the ultrasound machine, knocking a tray of medical instruments clattering to the floor.
"You..." Adrian choked out, blood rushing to his ears. "You slept with Chloe? You planted your child in my house while I was married?"
"Not just your house, Adrian," Julian laughed softly. "Your penthouse. The down payment you bragged about using your own funds for? That was drawn from a joint venture account that Julian and I co-managed. In fact, while you were busy divorcing Elena—handing away your voting shares and your life's work without reading a single page—Julian and I were restructuring the entire corporate charter."
Vanessa gripped her mother’s arm, her legs giving out as she collapsed into a chair. "We're ruined... everything is gone."
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Margaret Castillo stared at her golden boy, her lips parting soundlessly. The dynasty she had spent decades building upon pride, cruelty, and deceit had collapsed in less than five minutes.
And miles away, under the warm sun of Barcelona, Elena Salazar was pouring a second glass of sparkling water, ready to watch the empire burn to ash.
