something unreadable in his eye

above all else, saw a potential solution to her son's heir problem. James had a string of daughters from pr

id, her voice still cool but with a new edg

y bones. I could almost feel the pathways, the precise combinations of diet, rest, even

sleeve. "Daddy, don't listen to her! She's just saying that so sh

her voice was

Winston empire, built on Texas oil and Southern grit, was traditionally passed down through

a healthy son..." James began, the

d. "It would be... adva

a grieving mother, but a stra

bitterness. "I c

nly decisive. "One chance. We'll try again. B

n't be,"

r a long moment. "

knees, washed over me. I had bought myself time.

with fury. "Daddy, no!

thin. "This is my decision." He then softened his tone toward

d. Oh, Chloe, y

ret warned, her eyes like stee

nd, Mother,

– a mixture of hope and something akin to respect. "

ncession, a

nd influence. I stood beside James, a grieving widow in black, playing my par

e casket, a silent promise forming in my

manicured gardens of the Win

e. "You won't get away with this. You can't give my father a healthy son. It's his

g in the air.

issue, why was Chloe so perfect, so healthy? She was his proclaimed pr

w. "If his genes are so bad, Chloe,

c crossed her fac

ered, backing away. "I just

ctically ran back

o, a cold certa

s not James's bi

he'd been in months, his eyes holding a new tenderness

this, Emily?" he a

aid, meeting his

g he'd undergone, treatments he'd tried.

dy, my intuition, would

lizing two strong heartbeats, two healthy ba

n, the family physician, con

're pregnant." James's hand tightened on

lmost boyish delight. "Twins?

y perfect," Dr. Peterson assured hi

yes shining. "You did it,

small, sec

only the