Chapter 4: The Public Storm
"Don't you dare speak about my daughter," I hissed into the phone, but Eleanor had already hung up.
Julian immediately stood up, his eyes narrowing. "Was that my mother?"
"She's planning something, Julian. She said tomorrow morning, the world will know I'm a fraud. She's going to ruin Rose's name before she even grows up."
Julian's phone rang next. It was Vance, his chief lawyer who had remained loyal. "Mr. Hartwell, turn on the news. Now."
Julian grabbed the remote, turning on the bedroom television. A prominent entertainment news anchor appeared on screen, standing outside a medical clinic.
"Breaking news in the Hartwell billionaire divorce saga. Sources close to the matriarch, Eleanor Hartwell, claim that the surprise infant presented by Clara Hartwell at today’s hearing is part of a multi-million-dollar extortion plot. Rumors suggest the child is not Julian Hartwell's biological heir, and a legal battle of epic proportions is brewing over the family's real estate empire..."
I gasped, covering my mouth as tears flooded my eyes. "She’s lying! She knows Rose is yours!"
"I know," Julian said, his voice dropping into a register of pure, unadulterated rage. He looked like a man ready to burn the city down to protect his own. "She’s trying to tank the company stock to force the board to reinstate her, using our daughter as a pawn."
Julian grabbed his coat. "Clara, stay here with the security team. No one gets in or out of this estate."
"Where are you going?" I asked, terrified.
"I'm going to end this," Julian said, walking over to me. For the first time, he reached out and gently stroked Rose's soft cheek. He looked up at me, his grey eyes burning with absolute certainty. "I lost you because I was too blind to see what mattered. I am not losing my daughter. Trust me, Clara. Just this once."
With that, he strode out of the house, leaving me alone in the massive, quiet nursery.
By midnight, the DNA results arrived via an encrypted email from the clinic. I opened the file with trembling fingers.
May you like
PROBABILITY OF PATERNITY: 99.99%
Julian was the father. But as I looked at the news ticker on the TV, the headlines were growing nastier by the minute. The internet was tearing my character apart, calling me a gold-digger who had trapped a billionaire. I felt entirely helpless, trapped in a gilded cage while the world judged my love for my daughter.
