Chapter 1 - The Encounter
Evelyn Mercer's voice cut through the noise of the crowded mall like a shattered glass bottle.
I froze instantly, my blood turning to ice in my veins as her designer heels clicked aggressively against the polished floor.
Damien snapped out of his trance and spun around to face the woman who had orchestrated the destruction of our lives.
"What are you doing here, Damien?" Evelyn demanded, her sharp eyes scanning the space before locking onto my face.
For a fraction of a second, the untouchable matriarch of the Mercer empire actually looked terrified.
Then, her gaze shifted down to the two little boys clutching my hands, and all the color drained from her perfectly contoured face.
She recognized the Mercer jawline immediately, just as her son had only moments before.
"Mara Bennett," Evelyn spat, her voice dripping with venom as she took a threatening step forward.
"I paid you two million dollars to ensure this exact scenario would never happen."
Damien flinched as if he had been physically struck, turning his shocked eyes back to me.
"Two million dollars?" he whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of confusion and absolute betrayal.
"Mom, what the hell is she talking about?" Ethan asked, squeezing my hand tightly as he sensed the danger radiating from the older woman.
I did not answer my son, instead pulling both boys slightly behind me to shield them from Evelyn's wrath.
"You need to walk away right now, Evelyn," I warned her, trying to keep my voice steady despite the adrenaline flooding my system.
"You took my money, you signed the non-disclosure agreement, and you agreed to terminate that problem," Evelyn hissed, completely ignoring her son's rising horror.
Damien stepped between his mother and me, his broad shoulders blocking her view of Ethan and Noah.
"I gave her an envelope with ten thousand dollars to help her get on her feet because she refused to marry me," Damien argued, glaring at his mother.
I stared at the back of Damien's head, my mind spinning violently as the pieces of a five-year-old puzzle finally fell into place.
He never gave me the abortion clinic address or the two million dollars in hush money.
His mother had swapped the envelopes in that Manhattan conference room before he handed it to me.
Evelyn laughed, a cold, empty sound that echoed off the storefronts.
"You were a weak boy who was about to throw away a billion-dollar legacy for a pregnant waitress, Damien."
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Before Damien could respond, Evelyn snapped her fingers, and four men in dark suits materialized from the crowd.
"Take the children to my car," Evelyn ordered the men calmly, as if she were ordering a coffee.
