Chapter 3

Seraphina's heart hammered so hard she could taste the pulse in her throat. She took a step back, her hands curling into fists. "No. No, sir, you're mistaken. They're just... they're ordinary kids."

Theodore sighed, the disappointment settling into the lines of his face. He looked toward the door.

It swung open. Donovan strode back in, his jaw set in a rigid line. He had been listening. He heard her lie.

"Dad," Donovan said, his voice clipped. "You need to rest."

He told his assistant to take his father to rest.

Donovan turned his attention to Seraphina, his eyes like chips of blue ice. "Ms. Fletcher. Let's stop playing games."

He nodded at Alex, who stepped forward and placed a thick manila folder on the coffee table, along with a heavy Montblanc pen.

Seraphina stared at the folder. The words on the cover were stamped in gold: Marriage Contract.

Her stomach roiled. "What is this?"

"It's a business proposal," Donovan said, his tone flat and businesslike. "My father is dying. The board of Vance Industries is circling like sharks, waiting for him to die so they can carve up the company. I need a wife. I need a family. It stabilizes my image and gives him peace."

He flipped the folder open to the last page. His finger tapped a number. Five million dollars. Plus the penthouse.

Seraphina stared at the figure. It was a fortune. It was Fiona's surgery. It was a life free from the suffocating anxiety of choosing between groceries and rent.

Then the humiliation hit. He thought she was for sale. He thought she was a woman who would sell herself and her kids.

"I am not selling my children," Seraphina spat, her voice shaking with rage. "And I'm not selling myself. Find someone else to play your doll."

Donovan let out a dry laugh. "It's not selling. It's a transaction. One year. You live in the penthouse, you smile for the cameras, you let my father believe he has grandchildren. In return, you become a millionaire. After the year is up, we divorce quietly. You keep the money, the apartment, and the kids. We go our separate ways."

"I said no!"

The door burst open. Pax walked in, holding his tablet, with Rowan and Fiona trailing behind him. Alex stood in the hallway, looking flustered. "I'm sorry, sir, they just ran past me-"

Pax ignored the assistant. He walked right up to the coffee table and looked at the contract. Then he looked at Donovan.

"My mom said no," Pax said, his voice clear and steady. "But she's being too polite. What she means is, your offer is insulting."

Donovan raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Pax held up his tablet. On the screen was a live feed of the very room they were standing in-the security camera. "First off, is the five million a lump sum or annuity? Who pays the taxes? Because if it's annuity, inflation will eat it alive."

Seraphina grabbed Pax's arm. "Pax, stop it!"

He shook her off gently, his eyes never leaving Donovan's. "Second, this contract only lists our obligations. No rights. We need full medical coverage. Top tier. No network restrictions. Especially for Fiona's heart."

Donovan stared at the boy. The resemblance was uncanny. It wasn't just the face; it was the mind. The cold, calculating logic.

"And third," Pax continued, tapping his tablet, "I want access to the Vance Cybernetics Lab. Level 4 clearance."

Donovan let out a breath of disbelief. "You're five."

"Age is a number. Skill is reality." Pax's fingers danced on the screen. Suddenly, the phone in Donovan's pocket began to ring, playing a tinny, robotic version of 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'.

The room went dead silent. Alex gasped.

Seraphina felt like the floor was dropping out from under her. "Pax, please, we're leaving."

Pax looked up at her, his expression serious. "Mom. We need this. Fiona needs the doctor."

The words hit her like a sledgehammer. She looked at Fiona, who was leaning against Rowan, her little face pale and tired.

Donovan crouched down until he was eye-level with Pax. The hostility in his gaze had shifted into something else-respect, and a deep, unsettling recognition. "Level 4 clearance is for senior engineers."

"I can find seventeen vulnerabilities in your firewall in the next five minutes," Pax replied evenly.

Donovan stared at him for a long moment. "That's a bold claim," he said, his voice low and intrigued. "Prove it. If you can find a single, exploitable flaw in my personal network by tomorrow morning, we can discuss an internship. We'll start there." He stood up, looking at Seraphina. "Pack your bags. You move into the Vance Estate tonight. The ceremony is tomorrow."

Seraphina looked at the pen. She looked at her daughter's pale face. She looked at her brilliant, desperate son.

Her hand trembled as she reached for the pen.