The iron gates of the Duncan family's Long Island estate loomed ahead like the entrance to a fortress.
Cordelia sat in the back of the town car, her hand resting flat against her stomach. Inside her designer bag sat the signed marriage contract, and buried beneath it, the crumpled pregnancy test results.
She had to hide the pregnancy. If Justice knew she was carrying his biological child, he would never let her go. He would own her completely. She needed the money and the protection first.
The car passed through three separate security checkpoints before finally stopping in front of a massive stone mansion.
A butler in a crisp uniform opened her door. "Miss Nguyen. Mr. Duncan is finishing a call. He asked that you wait in the rear gardens."
Cordelia nodded tightly. She followed the butler through the grand halls, her heels clicking against the marble, until they stepped out onto a sprawling, manicured French garden.
The sun was bright. Four large men in black suits stood at the perimeter, watching the grounds.
In the center of the vast green lawn, a little boy in custom navy suspenders was running. He was holding a remote control, his eyes fixed on a micro-drone buzzing in the air above him.
It was Leo.
Cordelia stopped walking. Her breath caught in her throat.
Seeing him in a photo was one thing. Seeing him in person, breathing and moving, felt like a physical blow to her chest.
Suddenly, the drone caught a gust of wind. It spiraled out of control and crashed into the grass, skidding to a halt right against the toe of Cordelia's high heel.
Cordelia looked down. She slowly bent over and picked up the small plastic toy.
Ten yards away, the boy stopped running. He turned around.
Leo's icy blue eyes locked onto Cordelia.
For a second, the boy looked exactly like the cold, guarded heir in the photograph. But as he stared at her face, the ice in his eyes shattered.
Leo dropped the remote control. It hit the grass with a dull thud.
He ignored the bodyguards stepping forward. He didn't run immediately. Instead, he froze, his small frame trembling slightly. He took one hesitant step forward, then another, his wide eyes never leaving her face. He walked slowly, almost cautiously, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he moved too fast. When he finally reached her, he didn't crash into her legs. He reached out a tiny, shaking hand and gently touched the hem of her skirt, his fingers curling into the fabric.
"Mommy?" Leo said. His voice was a soft, uncertain whisper, laced with a heartbreaking mixture of hope and fear.
Cordelia froze.
A violent, electric shock ripped through her entire nervous system. The designer bag slipped from her shoulder and hit the ground.
Her hands trembled uncontrollably. She slowly sank to her knees on the grass, bringing herself to his eye level.
She reached out. Her fingertips brushed against his soft, black hair.
Leo looked up at her. His blue eyes were swimming with thick, heavy tears of pure attachment. He reached his small hands up and cupped her face.
The physical contact made Cordelia's heart physically ache. A primal, screaming instinct deep in her blood recognized the child in her arms.
Heavy, measured footsteps crunched against the gravel path behind her.
Cordelia snapped her head up.
Justice was walking out of the glass greenhouse. He wore a casual black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his muscular forearms.
He didn't look surprised. He raised one hand and gave a sharp flick of his wrist.
Instantly, the four bodyguards and the butler turned and walked away, disappearing behind the hedges. The garden was completely cleared.
Cordelia scrambled to her feet. She instinctively pushed Leo behind her legs, shielding the boy from the man approaching them.
"What kind of sick game are you playing?" Cordelia demanded, her voice shaking with rage and confusion.
Justice stopped at a stone patio table. His face was an unreadable mask.
He picked up a thick manila envelope sealed with red wax. He held it out to her.
"Read it," Justice ordered.
Cordelia snatched the envelope from his hand. She tore the wax seal with her thumb and pulled out the first document.
It was a lab report from the most elite genetic testing facility in the state.
She scanned the medical jargon until her eyes hit the bold conclusion at the bottom of the page.
Probability of Maternity: Cordelia Nguyen and Leo Duncan. 99.999%.
Cordelia's brain completely shut down.
The air rushed out of her lungs. The garden spun violently around her.
Four years ago. The Las Vegas trip. She had woken up bleeding in that hotel room. The doctors at the local hospital told her she had suffered a miscarriage. They told her the fetus was gone.
She stared at the paper, then down at the little boy holding onto her skirt.
Her dead baby was alive. He was standing right in front of her.
A guttural, animalistic sound of pure grief and rage ripped from Cordelia's throat.
Cordelia dropped the paper, lunged forward, and grabbed handfuls of Justice's black shirt. She slammed her fists against his solid chest.
"You stole him!" Cordelia screamed, tears finally spilling over her lashes. "You were the man in Vegas! You took my baby and made me think he was dead!"
Justice didn't flinch. He didn't try to remove her hands from his shirt. He stood there like a stone pillar, letting her hit him.
He calmly reached into the envelope and pulled out the second sheet of paper.
He held it up, pressing it right in front of her tear-filled eyes.
Cordelia blinked, forcing her eyes to focus on the text.
Probability of Paternity: Justice Duncan and Leo Duncan. 0%.
Cordelia stared at the stark black numbers. The absolute zero burned into her retinas, but her grief-stricken mind refused to accept it. She didn't stop hitting him. Her fists struck his chest again, her knuckles bruising against his hard muscles.
"This is fake!" Cordelia sobbed, her voice breaking into a hysterical, ragged pitch. "You forged this! You're lying to me! If you're not the father, then who is?! You were the one who took him! You were there!"
She gripped his collar, shaking him with all the desperate, terrifying strength of a mother who had been robbed of her child. Her tears soaked into his black shirt.
"Tell me the truth!" she screamed, her chest heaving.
"The DNA results are absolute," Justice said. His voice was terrifyingly calm, slicing through her hysteria like ice. "I am not his father."
Slowly, the impenetrable ice in his eyes and the cold, unyielding reality of the document began to sink in. The adrenaline of her rage burned out, leaving behind a suffocating, terrifying void. A larger, darker mystery was swallowing her whole.
Cordelia's hands finally went slack against his chest. She slipped from his shirt, her knees buckling as a profound, paralyzing helplessness dragged her down.
Leo ran forward and grabbed Cordelia's hand. His small fingers squeezed hers tightly. "Don't go, Mommy. Please."
Justice looked down at the two of them. He looked like a god observing mortals trapped in a maze he had built.
He pointed a long finger at her fallen bag, where the marriage contract was hidden.
"The truth of his conception doesn't matter right now," Justice said coldly. "What matters is that he is yours. And I am the only one who has legal custody of him."
He took a step closer, his shadow falling over her.
"Now," Justice whispered, his eyes locking onto hers. "Do you still have a reason to refuse to become Mrs. Duncan?"
Cordelia gripped her son's hand. She looked up at the dark, bottomless eyes of the man standing over her. She was trapped in a paradox she couldn't solve, chained by the very blood beating in her son's veins.
She had no choice. She was already caught in the web.
