Chapter 9 - The Impossible Truth
I froze completely, the phone nearly slipping from my numb fingers.
"What did you just say?" I demanded, my voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. "Victoria is Mason's mother."
"That's what we all thought, Daniel," Marcus said grimly over the line. "But this woman brought court-certified DNA documents, sealed birth records, and a federal judge's emergency injunction."
"Who the hell is she?"
"Her name is Dr. Elena Vance. And according to these sealed hospital files from six years ago... Victoria was never capable of carrying a child."
My mind spun wildly out of control, every logical thought shattering into tiny pieces.
If Victoria couldn't have children, then who gave birth to my son?
And why had the Sterling family gone to such monstrous lengths to hide the truth?
"Hold her there," I ordered fiercely. "Do not let her leave that clinic under any circumstances. I'm on my way."
I threw my phone into my pocket, sprinting out of the ruined study and racing down the marble stairs.
I jumped into the waiting transport SUV, barking a single order at the driver. "Stamford pediatric clinic. Step on it."
The vehicle tore out of the estate gates, blowing past the active demolition crews as we raced down the highway.
During the fifteen-minute drive, my brain tried desperately to connect the impossible dots.
Victoria had always claimed our pregnancy was difficult, pointing to postpartum complications as the reason she refused to let me visit the hospital delivery room six years ago.
She had spun a web of absolute lies, convincing me that her coldness toward Mason was just a byproduct of a rough birth.
And Richard had backed up every single lie to protect his family's pristine social standing.
Our SUV screeched to a halt outside the private Stamford medical clinic.
I threw the door open and bolted inside the sterile lobby, flashing my executive ID to bypass the front desk.
Marcus was waiting for me down the hallway, standing guard outside a private consultation room.
He pushed the door open as I approached, nodding solemnly. "She's inside, waiting for you."
I stepped into the bright room.
Sitting at the small table was a striking woman in her mid-thirties with sharp, intelligent dark eyes and an air of quiet, unshakable authority.
She looked up as the door clicked shut behind me, her gaze steady and unwavering.
"Daniel Cross," she said, her voice calm and remarkably composed. "We finally meet."
"Who are you?" I demanded, walking straight up to the table. "And what do you mean you're Mason's mother?"
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Elena Vance didn't flinch away from my aggressive stance. Instead, she slid a thick manila folder across the mahogany table toward my hands.
"Open it, Daniel," she said softly. "And prepare to find out that your entire marriage was built on a calculated kidnapping."
