Chapter 3 - The DNA Demand
The tension in the restaurant was thick enough to choke on.
Ethan reached out and grabbed Victoria by the arm.
"Tell me who it is," he ordered.
Victoria squeezed her eyes shut and refused to speak.
Richard stepped forward, his cane tapping rhythmically.
"Security," Richard commanded loudly. "Lock the doors."
Two massive men in dark suits immediately stepped in front of the exit.
"Nobody leaves until we get to the bottom of this," Richard announced.
Hannah pulled Noah closer to her side.
The chaos was becoming too much for her son.
Noah buried his face against her leg, trembling.
"Mr. Blackwood," Hannah said, her voice shaking but resolute. "I am leaving."
Ethan turned to her, his fierce expression softening instantly.
"Hannah, please, just give me a minute," he pleaded.
"No," she replied firmly. "You accused me of selling my child, and now your fiancé is screaming about conspiracies."
She picked up Noah into her arms, despite him being slightly too big for it now.
"My son is not a prop for your corporate drama," she added.
"He's my son too," Ethan said, the words finally leaving his lips.
Hannah looked at him with a mixture of sorrow and exhaustion.
"Biology doesn't make you a father, Ethan."
Ethan flinched as if she had slapped him.
"I want a DNA test," Ethan said desperately. "Today."
Hannah shook her head.
"I won't let you poke and prod him like a lab rat just to satisfy your sudden guilt."
"It's not guilt, Hannah, it's my right!"
Before the argument could escalate, one of the security guards spoke up.
"Mr. Blackwood, someone is demanding to be let in."
Through the glass doors, a tall man in a tailored medical coat was arguing with the guards.
Ethan frowned and nodded to let the man inside.
The man walked in, carrying a small metal briefcase.
"I was called for a priority DNA collection," the man announced professionally.
Hannah froze.
She stared at the man’s face.
The color vanished from her cheeks, leaving her ashen.
Ethan noticed her terror immediately.
"Hannah?" Ethan asked. "What's wrong?"
She pointed a shaking finger at the man holding the briefcase.
"That's him," she whispered.
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"Who?" Ethan asked, confused.
"That's Dr. Evans," Hannah said, her voice rising in panic. "That's the doctor who told me my baby had died in the womb seven years ago."
