iela

nside, a furnace raged. The Hamptons Gala, the shredded ultrasound, Emerson' s cruel lie, Isolde' s triumphant smirk-it all replayed in a loop, a

ttering lights of the shore, at the mansion where the party still raged, where Emerson and Isolde were undoubtedly

lt heavy, a burden I no longer needed to carry. With a grim set to my jaw, I tossed

wind, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "Then gone I

ently into the open s

years

on of old money and new power. Every seat was filled, every bid calc

clear, young voice declare

lvet seat. He couldn't have been more than ten, with a shock of dark hair and eyes that held an unc

eople jump. His face, usually a mask of suave composure, was now a thundercloud. He had been poised to win the prime

tinged with a mix of amusement and disbelief,

t nod. "Perfectly. My mother fin

And who is his 'mother'?" He spat the word "mother" as if it

emed to hold ancient knowledge. "I am Kael Mason," he stated, his voice unwavering. "And my bid is very serious. Unlik

ling. "What in God's name are you talking about?" The accusation, the v

. Or perhaps your recollection of certain... physiological facts... is rather selective." He paused, letting the

face. He took a step towards Kael, his powerful presence radi

ive background, along with a rather comprehensive genetic profile. You might find it illuminating." He

Emerson, then back to Kael' s strikingly familiar features. The boy was, undeniably, the sp

from his face, leaving his arrogance exposed and fragile. The meticulous lie he had spun five years ago

beat with a steady, powerful rhythm. Kael, my son, my genius, had just fire

only the