Chapter 3 - The DNA Protocol
By midnight, the penthouse was cleared of guests, but the tension remained thick enough to cut with a glass cutter. Vivien had refused to leave until Nathaniel gave her a definitive answer, pacing the hallway outside his private office.
Inside the study, a private medical technician packed away a sterile container holding cheek swabs from Miles, Grace, Sophie, and Nathaniel.
"The rush-order results will be ready by 8:00 AM tomorrow," the technician said, packing his silver briefcase. "Standard multiplex PCR analysis. There will be no doubt."
When the door clicked shut, only Nathaniel and Elena remained in the study. The children had been put to sleep in the guest suite down the hall, exhausted from the strange ballroom and the glittering lights of Manhattan.
Nathaniel poured two fingers of amber whiskey, staring into the glass. "You should have come to me anyway. Despite my mother, despite everything—if you had told me you were pregnant, I would have burned the world down before I let you walk away."
"With what matches, Nathaniel?" Elena asked, leaning against the bookshelf, her fingers tracing the spines of first-edition leather-bound volumes. "Back then, you were an intern living in a studio apartment relying on your tuition allowance. You had no power, no fortune, and no shield against your family. If I had stayed, they would have eaten us both alive, and my children would have been born into a warzone."
"And now?" Nathaniel turned, his gray eyes locking onto hers. "Now I own half the skyline. Now my mother doesn't dictate who breathes in this house. Why come to the party tonight?"
"I told you. I thought it was a trap, or a cruel joke from an assistant," Elena said, her voice dropping softly. "When I saw your name on the guest list, part of me wanted to see if the boy I loved had survived the corporate machine. And walking in there tonight... I saw that he survived, but he became a monument to everything I ran away from."
She motioned toward the hallway where Vivien was undoubtedly waiting.
"She suits you, Nathaniel. Cold, correct, and entirely empty."
"She was a placeholder," Nathaniel said fiercely, stepping closer. "Every day for five years, I looked for you in every crowded room, in every quiet office, in every empty bed. Do you think I cared about Vivien's social pedigree? She was just the next box to check on a list my mother wrote for me."
May you like
Before Elena could answer, the door swung open. Vivien stood there, her face a mask of polite fury.
"The reporters are downstairs," Vivien announced, her voice trembling slightly. "Someone leaked that an unidentified woman with three children crashed the engagement party. The morning papers are going to have a field day. Nathaniel, if we don't release a statement right now denying everything—calling it a disturbed stalker—the stock market opens in six hours."
