The heavy mahogany doors of the estate's private study clicked shut, sealing them inside.
The nanny had gently coaxed Leo away for his afternoon nap. Now, the silence in the room was suffocating.
Cordelia sat on the edge of a massive Chesterfield leather sofa. Her back was rigid. Her hands were clasped so tightly in her lap that her fingernails dug crescent moons into her own skin.
Justice walked over to the vintage globe bar in the corner. He poured two glasses of neat whiskey. He walked back and pushed one glass across the low wooden table toward her.
Cordelia stared at the amber liquid. She didn't touch it. She couldn't. The six-week-old secret in her womb demanded absolute sobriety.
She reached into her bag, pulled out the marriage contract, and slammed it onto the table.
She grabbed the heavy Montblanc fountain pen resting next to the glass. Her hand shook violently, but she pressed the nib to the paper and signed her name on the final line.
Justice watched her. He picked up the contract, his dark eyes scanning her signature.
He walked over to the wall, pressed a hidden button behind a painting, and a steel safe revealed itself. He placed the contract inside and shut the heavy door.
The loud clack of the locking mechanism echoed in the room. It sounded like a prison cell slamming shut. Her freedom was officially gone.
Cordelia took a sharp breath. She looked up and met his gaze.
"If you are not his father," Cordelia said, her voice trembling but defiant, "why did you take him? Why are you raising him?"
Justice didn't walk back to his chair.
He turned around and walked slowly toward the sofa. Each step was measured, predatory, and completely silent on the thick Persian rug.
Cordelia's heart rate spiked. She pressed her back into the leather cushions, trying to put distance between them.
Justice didn't stop. He stepped right between her knees.
He dropped one knee onto the edge of the sofa cushion, leaning his massive frame over her. He planted both of his hands on the leather on either side of her head, completely caging her in.
Cordelia gasped. The scent of whiskey and cedar washed over her. His chest was inches from her face.
Justice lowered his head. His nose almost brushed against hers.
"Because," Justice murmured, his voice a dark, gravelly vibration that she felt in her own chest. "Four years ago, in that hotel suite in Las Vegas... the man who pinned you against the floor-to-ceiling window was me."
Cordelia's eyes blew wide open.
A physical jolt of pure shock hit her brain. Her lungs seized.
She brought both hands up and shoved hard against his solid chest, trying to push him away. He didn't budge a single inch. He was like a wall of granite.
"You're insane!" Cordelia gasped, her chest heaving. "You just showed me the DNA report! It said zero percent! You're lying to me!"
Justice's eyes darkened, completely ignoring her question about the DNA paradox.
He shifted his weight, pressing closer, forcing her to look up at him.
"I remember the taste of your skin," Justice whispered, his gaze dropping to her lips. "And I remember exactly what you look like when you break."
Cordelia shivered violently.
"From the moment I left that room," Justice continued, his voice dropping to a chillingly calm register, "I have watched you."
Cordelia stopped struggling. Her blood ran ice cold. "What?"
"I know you moved to Brooklyn three years ago to save rent," Justice said, his eyes locking onto hers. "I know your architectural firm almost went bankrupt twice. I know exactly how much money Julian's family stole from your accounts."
Bile rose in Cordelia's throat. This wasn't a sudden rescue. This was a hunt.
"You stalked me," Cordelia breathed, horrified. "For four years. Why didn't you just come to me? Why did you let me get engaged to Julian?"
Justice raised one hand from the sofa. He trailed his knuckles lightly down the side of her neck.
Cordelia flinched, but his touch was burning hot. He pressed his thumb against her pulse point, feeling her heart racing in panic.
"The Duncan family board is a slaughterhouse," Justice said coldly. "If they knew you existed, if they knew you were my weakness, you would be dead. I had to secure my absolute power first. I had to clear the board."
He tilted his head, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.
"As for Julian," Justice said softly. "Who do you think sent that encrypted email to your phone tonight?"
Cordelia's stomach dropped. The video. The timing. It was all him.
"You're a monster," Cordelia spat, turning her face away from his hand. "You orchestrated everything. You drove me into a corner so I would have to sign that paper."
Justice didn't look angry. He looked victorious.
He grabbed her chin, his grip firm but not painful, and forced her to look back at him.
Slowly, deliberately, Justice lowered his gaze. He looked away from her face and stared directly at her flat stomach.
Cordelia's breath hitched. A spike of pure terror shot through her veins.
Justice leaned in until his lips brushed against the shell of her ear.
"So tell me, Mrs. Duncan," Justice whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "What exactly does a woman carrying my six-week-old child plan to do next?"
Cordelia squeezed her eyes shut. A tear slipped down her cheek.
He knew. He knew she went to the clinic. He knew everything. She had never had a chance to hide.
Justice pulled back. He stood up, straightening his cuffs, instantly transforming back into the untouchable billionaire.
He walked over to the desk and pressed the intercom button.
"Have the staff move Miss Nguyen's luggage into the master bedroom," Justice ordered the butler. He looked back at Cordelia, his eyes completely devoid of mercy. "My wife sleeps in my bed."
