hair was pinned up, exposing the elegant line of her neck.

My feet moved before my brain issued the command.

"Lucian?" Corinne called out.

Her hand caught my elbow.

"Where are you going?" she asked. "The Tokyo investors are waiting."

"Not now." I pulled my arm free.

"Wait!"

She hurried after me, her fingers digging into my suit jacket.

I ignored her. I shoved past a group of bankers. A champagne glass shattered on the marble floor. I didn't stop.

Opal was standing next to a tall, broad-shouldered man in a navy tuxedo. He had his hand on the small of her back.

That hand did not belong there.

I planted myself directly in their path.

Opal blinked. Her expression remained entirely flat. No shock. No tears. Just blank indifference.

"Did you really think this would work?" I asked. I kept my chin high, looking down at her.

She tilted her head. "Excuse me?"

"Crashing my victory gala." I let my gaze sweep over her silver dress. "Showing up here, dressing like you belong in this circle. Are you that desperate for my attention?"

"I didn't come here for you, Lucian," she said flatly.

"Then why are you here?" I challenged. "You don't know anyone in high society. You barely left the house when we were together."

"People change," she replied.

"Not this much. Not this fast." I stepped closer, invading her space. "Admit it. You found out about the eastern seaboard deal and wanted to see what you were missing."

The man in the navy suit shifted closer to her.

"Is there a problem here, Opal?" he asked.

"No, Rayner," she replied quietly. "Just a minor roadblock."

A minor roadblock.

My jaw locked.

"I am not a roadblock," I told her. "I am the man who owns this hotel. I own the ground you are standing on."

Rayner raised an eyebrow. "Congratulations. Do you want a medal, or just basic manners?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Who the hell are you?"

Before Rayner could answer, Corinne finally caught up.

She was panting slightly. She hooked her arm through mine, pressing her chest against my bicep. She looked Opal up and down, a sharp, mocking smile twisting her lips.

"Oh, I see," Corinne laughed softly. "It's just Opal."

The surrounding guests stopped talking. The silence spread fast. Eyes turned toward us.

"Lucian, darling, you shouldn't be so harsh," Corinne announced, projecting her voice for the nearest tables to hear. "It must be incredibly hard for her."

I frowned, glancing at Corinne. "What do you mean?"

"Spending all those years playing my understudy," Corinne sneered. "Only to be tossed aside the second the real thing came back. Did you buy that dress off a clearance rack? It looks like a cheap knockoff of the one I wore in Milan."

Opal looked at Corinne's designer gown, then back to her face.

"If it makes you feel better to think that, go ahead," Opal said.

Corinne's smile faltered for a fraction of a second.

"You always were pathetic," Corinne continued, projecting her voice louder. "You kept his bed warm. We all know it. You were a convenient placeholder. And now you're crashing our celebration just to beg for scraps."

Whispers erupted across the ballroom.

"A stand-in?" a woman muttered to my left.

"I heard she tried to mimic Miss Mercer's hair," another voice hissed.

"Pathetic," an older man chimed in.

Opal didn't flinch. She didn't look at the whispering crowd. She kept her eyes fixed on my face.

"Are you finished?" Opal asked.

I hated how calm she sounded. She was supposed to be a mess. She was supposed to be in tears, humiliated by Corinne's words.

Instead, she looked utterly bored.

I pointed a finger at the man beside her. "Who is this?"

"My name is Rayner," the man answered. His voice sounded deep and steady.

"I didn't ask you," I snapped.

I glared at Opal.

"What is your relationship with him?" I demanded.

"Why do you care?" Opal asked.

"Because you are making a scene at my event," I lied. The truth was, seeing another man touch her made my blood boil. "Are you paying him to be here? To make me jealous?"

Corinne tightened her grip on my arm.

"She probably hired him for the night," Corinne mocked. "To save face. Or maybe he's just another charity case she picked up off the street."

Rayner chuckled. It was a dark, amused sound.

"Charity case," Rayner repeated. "That's a new one."

"Answer the question, Opal," I pressed, stepping closer. "Are you sleeping with him?"

Rayner stepped forward, his shoulders squaring.

"Watch how you speak to her," Rayner warned.

"I'll speak to my ex-wife however I please," I fired back.

"Ex-wife," Rayner corrected smoothly. "Which means you have zero authority here. Keep your voice down, or I will put you down."

I balled my hands into fists.

"You are in my hotel," I spat. "I could have my security team break your legs and throw you out the back door."

"Try it," Rayner challenged, his gaze turning icy.

"Tell him to back off, Opal," I warned. "Before I ruin both of your lives."

Opal let out a short, hollow laugh.

"That is none of your business," she said.

"You are my—"

"I am nothing to you," she interrupted.

Her voice carried no anger, only cold finality.

"We are divorced, Lucian," she stated clearly. "The papers are signed. The ink is dry. Who I see, where I go, and whose bed I share is completely out of your jurisdiction."

The words struck me right in the chest.

"Divorced?" a board member whispered nearby.

"I didn't even know he was married," someone else replied.

"He kept her hidden all this time?"

Opal turned to her companion.

"Let's go, Rayner," she said. "The air in here is getting stale. And the company is worse."

She slipped her arm through his.

"Opal, stop right there," I ordered.

She didn't stop. She didn't even look back.

Rayner guided her toward the exit. His hand rested securely on her waist. The silver fabric of her dress shimmered under the lights as she walked away from me.

Leaving me standing in the middle of my own party, exposed and humiliated.

Corinne laughed again.

"Good riddance," she chirped. "Now, about those investors—"

"Shut up," I snarled.

Corinne gasped. She dropped my arm as if I had burned her.

"Lucian!" she cried out.

The jealousy burned hot and fast in my veins. It blinded me. I couldn't let another man walk out with her. Not tonight. Not ever.

I broke into a run.

"Opal!" I shouted, sprinting toward the terrace doors.

"Sir, wait!" a security guard called out.

I pushed past him, knocking a tray of champagne flutes from a passing waiter. Glass shattered everywhere. I didn't care. I needed to reach her before she left.

I burst through the heavy glass doors into the cool night air.

"Opal, stop!"

But when I reached the edge of the driveway, a black town car was already pulling away from the curb.

I stood on the pavement, my chest heaving, watching the taillights disappear into the city traffic.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out, staring at the glowing screen.

It was a message from an unknown number.

*She's mine now.*

I crushed the phone in my grip.

*She's mine now.*

The screen cracked under the pressure of my thumb. I spun around, scanning the valet circle.

"Lucian!" Corinne shouted, her voice shrill as she marched out of the glass doors.

She blocked my path to the valet stand. Her face was flushed, her lips pulled into a tight scowl.

"Move, Corinne," I ordered.

"Are you insane?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Davis is waiting inside. The Tokyo delegation is opening another bottle of champagne. You are the guest of honor!"

"Tell them I had an emergency."

"An emergency?" She let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Chasing after your pathetic ex-wife is not an emergency. It's an embarrassment."

I stepped right up to her, invading her space until she was forced to lean back.

"Do not tell me what to do," I warned, keeping my tone dangerously low. "And never speak about her like that again."

Corinne’s eyes widened. "You're defending her? After she humiliated us?"

"I said, move."

I bypassed her and snapped my fingers at the head valet.

"My Aston Martin. Bring it up. Now."

"Right away, Mr. Davis!" the young man squeaked, sprinting toward the VIP lot.

Corinne stomped her foot on the pavement. "If you drive away right now, I will not be here when you get back!"

"Then call a cab," I shot back.

The valet skidded to a halt in front of me, leaving the engine running. I snatched the keys from his hand, slid into the driver’s seat, and slammed the door.

I peeled out of the hotel driveway, tires squealing against the asphalt.

My chest heaved. The image of Rayner’s hand on Opal’s waist burned behind my eyes. I jammed my finger onto the dashboard console, dialing my head of security.

"Briggs," I barked the second the line connected.

"Yes, boss?"

"A black town car just left the Grand Azure. It's heading into the city. Find it."

"Plate number?" Briggs asked, keys clacking in the background.

"I don't have one. Pull the hotel security feeds. The man's name is Rayner. He left with Opal."

A brief pause hung on the line. "Your ex-wife, sir?"

"Do I need to repeat myself?" I yelled, swerving around a slow-moving sedan.

"No, sir. Accessing the traffic grid now."

I gripped the leather steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. I navigated the downtown traffic, running a yellow light. My pulse pounded in my ears.

"Got them," Briggs announced a minute later. "They are heading north on Route 9. Taking the exit toward Elmwood."

"Keep tracking. I'm five minutes behind."

I pushed the accelerator to the floor. The engine roared. I didn't care about the speed limit. I only cared about finding out where she was going. Who she was going home with.

"They just pulled into a residential area," Briggs reported. "Maple Drive. It's a private road. Detached villas."

"I know the area."

I cut the call. I took the Elmwood exit, my tires gripping the sharp curve.

The streets grew quieter, the streetlights spaced further apart. Large oak trees lined the sidewalks, casting long shadows. I killed my headlights as I turned onto Maple Drive.

Up ahead, the red taillights of the black town car glowed in the dark.

The vehicle rolled to a stop in front of a tall wrought-iron gate. Beyond the gate sat a massive, two-story stone villa.

I parked my car flush against the curb, half-hidden by a row of thick hedges. I rolled my window down, letting the cool night air flood the cabin.

The town car's engine shut off.

The rear door opened. Rayner stepped out first. He adjusted his navy suit jacket and extended a hand into the backseat.

Opal emerged, her silver dress catching the dim light of the streetlamps. She didn't take his hand. She simply stepped past him, smoothing her skirt.

I unbuckled my seatbelt. I pushed my door open quietly and stepped onto the grass, creeping closer to the iron fence.

"You didn't have to escort me all the way home," Opal said. Her voice carried clearly in the quiet neighborhood.

"I wanted to," Rayner replied. He closed the car door. "Lucian looked ready to commit murder."

"Lucian is all bark," she dismissed, walking toward the gate keypad. "He hates losing. That's all tonight was about."

"He still thinks he owns you."

"He doesn't own anything," Opal stated, punching a code into the keypad.

The heavy iron gates clicked and swung inward.

Before Opal could take another step, the heavy oak front door of the villa burst open. Warm yellow light spilled out onto the front steps.

"Mommy!" a high-pitched voice rang out.

I froze. My boots rooted to the grass.

A little boy sprinted out of the house. He wore dinosaur pajamas, his bare feet slapping against the stone walkway.

"Leo, no running!" an older woman called out from the doorway, wiping her hands on an apron.

Opal dropped to her knees right there on the driveway. She opened her arms wide.

"Hey, my little monster," Opal laughed, catching the boy as he barreled into her chest.

The boy wrapped his arms around her neck, burying his face in her shoulder. "You came back!"

"I told you I wouldn't be late," she murmured, kissing the top of his head.

I stared at the child. My heart slammed against my ribs.

The boy pulled back, framing Opal's face with his small hands. The porch light illuminated his features perfectly.

He had thick, chestnut hair.

My hair.

"Did Maria let you stay up past your bedtime?" Opal asked, tapping his nose.

"I had to wait for you," the boy insisted. He turned his head, spotting the man standing nearby. "Uncle Rayner!"

Rayner crouched down, offering a high-five. "Hey, buddy. You keeping your mom out of trouble?"

"Yeah!" the boy cheered, slapping Rayner's hand.

I grabbed the cold iron bars of the fence. The metal bit into my palms.

The boy tilted his head, laughing at something Rayner said. His jawline. The shape of his eyes. The slight dimple on his left cheek when he smiled.

He was a mirror image of the childhood photos my mother kept on her mantel.

"How old is he?" I whispered to the empty air.

My mind raced, doing the math. Opal and I finalized the divorce three years ago. We hadn't slept together in the months leading up to the split. But before that...

Could it be?

No. She would have told me. She wouldn't have hidden a pregnancy.

"Alright, time to go inside," Opal announced, standing up. She hoisted the boy onto her hip. He rested his head on her shoulder, his chestnut hair brushing against her cheek.

"Are you coming in, Uncle Rayner?" the boy asked, yawning loudly.

Rayner glanced at Opal.

"Not tonight, Leo," Rayner answered softly. "I have some things to take care of. You be good for your mom."

"Okay," the boy mumbled, his eyes already drooping shut.

Opal turned to Rayner. "Thank you. For everything tonight."

"Lock the doors, Opal," Rayner instructed, his tone shifting into something serious. "If he tracked you down once, he might try it again."

"I'm not afraid of Lucian," she replied.

"Maybe you should be."

Rayner gave her a brief nod, turned on his heel, and walked back to the town car.

Opal carried the boy up the steps. She stepped inside, and the heavy oak door slammed shut. The deadbolt clicked loudly, echoing in the quiet night.

I stood in the shadows, my chest tight, my throat dry.

A son.

She had a son.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, shattering the silence. I yanked it out. Briggs.

"What?" I demanded, keeping my voice hushed.

"Sir, I pulled the property records for that villa," Briggs said. "It's owned by a shell corporation out of London. But the primary resident is listed as Opal Mercer."

"Is there anyone else on the lease?" I asked, staring at the glowing windows of the second floor.

"Just one dependent," Briggs confirmed. "A minor. Leo Mercer. Age three."

Age three.

The numbers slammed into me like a freight train. The timeline fit perfectly.

"Sir?" Briggs prompted. "Do you need me to send a team?"

"No," I rasped. "Stand down."

I hung up the phone. I shoved it back into my pocket and stared at the iron gates.

I wanted to march up to that door. I wanted to kick it off its hinges, storm into her living room, and demand the truth. I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and force her to admit that the boy sleeping upstairs belonged to me.

But I had no proof. Just a passing glance in the dark and a gut feeling that was tearing me apart from the inside out.

If I went in there now, I would look like a madman. I would give Rayner exactly what he wanted.

I slowly released my grip on the iron bars. I turned my back on the villa and walked to my car. Every step felt heavy, as if gravity had suddenly doubled.

I slid into the driver's seat and gripped the steering wheel.

*She's mine now.*

The text message flashed through my mind again.

I started the engine, the low rumble vibrating through my bones.

Rayner thought he had won tonight. Opal thought she had escaped me.

They were both dead wrong.

I shifted the car into drive. I took one last look at the lighted window on the second floor.

"I'm going to find out the truth, Opal," I vowed to the empty car. "And if that boy is mine, I am taking everything."