Too Late, CEO: Meet Your Hacker Son

e flimsy piece of paper. The smooth, glossy surface of

rs. James. You're t

silence of the Mount Sinai hallway, a stark c

word was a de

strategic merger of families. For the last six months, that ghost had been lying in a coma in t

was carryin

a body kept alive by machines. It was his right to know. Thi

nsteady. She carefully folded the photo, the image of the tiny bean-shaped existence tucke

e lighting softer, the smell of antiseptic replaced by the faint, clean scent of expens

lat, his eyes sweeping over her inexpe

na J

n unchanging, and then stepped aside. The si

Barrett's suite. The sight that gree

bed, surrounded b

than her entire wardrobe. The city lights of Manhattan glittered behind him, a backdrop to his formidable pr

y seen in photos, were fixed on her. They were c

first time she had seen him in person. The photographs hadn

lly sound that held no emotion. It was the voice

ely went to her coat pocket, pressing against the folde

that single glance. With an air of profound boredom, he reached for a folder on the table beside h

r were stark and blac

hing, shattered into a million pieces. The words she had rehe

ice flat. "Our marriage was a m

ething. She had to make him understan

azor. "Sign the papers. You'll receive a settlement generous enough to keep

ll limply to her side. The ultrasound photo suddenly

his chilling indifference. There was nothing. This man wouldn't care about a child. He

eap trick to get more money. He might

clawed its way through her panic: s

k was a stark, unforgiving black against the crisp white paper. She scrawled

s cold eyes. He retrieved the signed document as if

ee, to escape the suffocating atmosph

anything," his voice followed her, laced with a qui

. A cold sweat broke out across her sk

tinued, his voice dropping to a near

open and practically ran out of the room, her f

s a scorching brand against her hip.