Chapter 5 Tangled truths

The sound of my heels echoed down the sterile hallway, the rhythmic click-clack a sharp contrast to the suffocating silence of the fertility clinic. Each step felt heavier than the last, like I was walking straight into a storm I wasn't ready for. The smell of antiseptic clung to the air, sharp and cold, and my palms grew damp around the handle of my handbag as I approached the glass door labeled Dr. Whitmore's Office.

I didn't know why I was so nervous.

Scratch that. I knew exactly why.

Because deep down, I could feel the truth looming like a predator in the dark, ready to pounce and shred the illusion I'd been clinging to.

I stopped in front of the frosted glass door and smoothed a hand over my skirt, forcing myself to inhale deeply before knocking.

"Come in," Dr. Whitmore's voice called, calm and professional, but it only made my stomach twist harder.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Dr. Whitmore looked up from behind her desk, her warm hazel eyes softening as they landed on me. She had the kind of face that made you want to trust her-motherly, gentle-but right now, even her kindness felt like a warning.

"Elara," she greeted with a small smile, gesturing for me to sit. "I'm glad you could come in today. I thought we should go over a few things in person."

My heart thumped painfully.

"Sure," I managed, lowering myself into the chair across from her desk. "Is something wrong?"

Her lips pressed together as she adjusted her glasses. "Not wrong, exactly. Just... complicated."

That word sent a shiver down my spine.

Dr. Whitmore folded her hands on the desk and looked me straight in the eye. "The results came back from the audit the clinic was undergoing. And, well... there's been a mix-up."

The room tilted slightly. I gripped the edge of the chair. "A mix up?"

She nodded solemnly. "With the donor sample used for your IVF procedure. The father of your child isn't who you were told he was."

For a second, I couldn't breathe. The air caught in my throat like a jagged stone. "What do you mean? I I picked a donor from your registry. I signed the paperwork. I"

"I know," she interrupted softly, her voice full of sympathy. "This isn't your fault, Elara. There was an error... an administrative oversight during that week's procedures. The sample you were inseminated with belonged to someone else."

A cold sweat prickled down my back. "Someone else?" I whispered.

Dr. Whitmore hesitated, then reached for a folder. She slid it across the desk toward me. "The father's identity is... not confidential in this case. It's a very particular situation. We thought it was important you knew."

I stared at the folder like it was a live grenade. My fingers trembled as I flipped it open-and my heart stopped.

Inside was a glossy photo clipped to a medical form. A familiar face stared back at me.

Dark hair. Sharp jawline. Those piercing storm-gray eyes.

Adrian Blake.

The man I'd met once. The man whose touch had haunted me for years. The man I thought I'd never see again.

And now... the father of my child.

My world tilted violently. I snapped the folder shut and shoved it back across the desk.

"This-this has to be a mistake," I stammered. "It's not possible. I..."

Dr. Whitmore sighed. "We double-checked, Elara. Triple-checked. I'm so sorry. It's him."

My hands flew to my lap, twisting together nervously. Memories of that night came rushing back dark whiskey, whispered words, a hotel room bathed in golden light. I thought it was a one time mistake, something I could bury and forget.

And now...

"Does he know?" I croaked.

"Not yet," Dr. Whitmore admitted. "But Elara, this isn't something that can stay hidden. He's a very high-profile client. When the audit reports come out, he'll find out whether you want him to or not."

The blood drained from my face.

"I need some air," I muttered, standing abruptly.

Dr. Whitmore's expression softened with sympathy. "I understand. Take your time."

I didn't wait for more. I hurried out of her office, clutching my handbag like a lifeline as I fled the clinic.

---

The cool spring air slapped me in the face the moment I stepped outside, but it wasn't enough to clear the fog in my head. My heart pounded as I weaved through the busy sidewalk, barely noticing the honking cars or chattering pedestrians around me.

Adrian Blake.

The name pulsed through my mind like a drumbeat.

My son's father.

My knees felt weak, and I stopped at the corner, pressing a trembling hand to my chest. My little boy, Liam, was at daycare right now, probably coloring or building blocks, blissfully unaware that his life had just been flipped upside down.

And I was the one holding a secret too big for my own sanity.

I needed time to think. To breathe.

---

By the time I reached my apartment, I'd worked myself into a frenzy. I paced the living room, replaying the conversation over and over until the words lost all meaning. I couldn't eat, couldn't sit still.

I'd built my entire life around protecting Liam. Keeping him safe. Keeping him mine.

And now Adrian Blake, billionaire CEO of Blake Enterprises, a man with enough influence to bend entire markets to his will, would soon find out that he had a son he didn't know existed.

What would he do?

Take Liam from me?

I shook the thought away violently. No. I wouldn't let that happen.

I'd made a vow the day I held my son for the first time: no one would ever hurt him. No one would take him from me.

---

I was still pacing when my phone buzzed on the coffee table. I snatched it up, desperate for a distraction. The caller ID made my heart stop.

Unknown Number.

I hesitated, thumb hovering over the green button. Something in my gut screamed at me to let it go to voicemail. But curiosity got the better of me.

"Hello?" I said cautiously.

There was silence on the other end. Then a deep, smooth voice I hadn't heard in years slid through the receiver like silk.

"Elara," the man said.

My blood ran cold.

I knew that voice.

Adrian Blake.

---

"I'm sorry, who is this?" I asked, trying to sound calm, though my pulse was roaring in my ears.

"You know who this is," he replied, his tone low and deliberate. "We need to talk."

I swallowed hard. "About what?"

"About my son."

My breath caught.

How? How could he already know?

"I... I don't know what you're talking about," I lied weakly.

He chuckled, the sound dark and humorless. "Don't play dumb, Elara. I had a very interesting conversation with Dr. Whitmore today."

Panic seized me like a vise. He knew. He already knew.

"Look," I said quickly, "I can explain-"

"You'll have plenty of time to explain," he interrupted smoothly. "In person. I'll send a car for you tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes." His voice sharpened, cutting through the phone like a blade. "We're going to settle this. One way or another."

And then the line went dead.

I stood frozen in my living room, my phone clutched to my chest, my heart pounding so hard it hurt.

---

By the time Liam was asleep that night, I was pacing again, wearing a groove into the carpet. I'd changed my outfit three times before finally settling on something neutral: a cream blouse, dark jeans, flats. Nothing flashy. Nothing that screamed I'm terrified of you, Mr. Billionaire.

The knock on my door came promptly at eight.

I swallowed hard and opened it to find a man in a black suit standing in the hallway.

"Ms. Elara Moore?" he asked.

"Yes," I croaked.

"I'm here to escort you to Mr. Blake."

---

The ride felt like a funeral procession. The black SUV glided silently through the city streets, its tinted windows shutting out the world. My heart hammered harder with every passing block.

When we finally pulled up in front of a towering glass building, I felt my stomach twist. Blake Tower. His empire.

The driver opened my door, and I stepped out on shaky legs, tilting my head back to take in the building that seemed to pierce the clouds.

Inside, everything was marble and gold, sleek and intimidating. The air smelled faintly of money and power.

I followed the driver to a private elevator. He swiped a keycard, and the doors slid shut, whisking us upward with dizzying speed.

When the doors opened, I stepped into a penthouse office that looked like something out of a movie-floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city skyline, expensive leather furniture, and a massive mahogany desk at the far end.

And there he was.

Adrian Blake.

He stood by the window, his back to me, his tall frame silhouetted against the city lights. He turned slowly, and the sight of him stole the breath from my lungs.

He was even more devastatingly handsome than I remembered. Dark suit tailored to perfection, sharp features illuminated by the soft glow of the city. But his eyes... those storm-gray eyes were colder now. Calculating.

"Hello, Elara," he said smoothly.

I swallowed hard. "Adrian."

He strode toward me, each step measured and predatory.

"You've been busy," he said, his gaze flicking over me like a searchlight. "Raising my son without me."

"I didn't know!" I burst out. "I didn't know it was your"

"Save it." His voice was ice. "We'll discuss your excuses later. For now, let's talk about what's going to happen next."

I flinched. "What do you mean?"

His lips curled into a cold smile. "You're going to marry me."

---

His words hit me like a physical blow. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. All I could do was stare at him as the world tilted off its axis.

"W-what?" I finally managed, my voice barely a whisper.

Adrian's expression hardened. "You heard me, Elara. I'm not asking. I'm telling you. We're getting married. For Liam's sake... and mine."

And for the first time in years, I felt the ground beneath me crumbled