silence was louder than any shout. Every step we took down the hallway felt like a countdown I couldn't stop. "Lucien..." I tried again, my voice cracking. "Please. It wasn't p

t tightening. "I didn't know who you were. I didn't even remember your face the next morning. I just knew I had lost something I could never get back. And I panicked. I disappeared. I ran to another city." I looked up at him then, my eyes swollen and burning. "I didn't know he was your son," I whispered. "I swear I didn't." The silence stretched. Lucien stepped closer. "You belong to me now," he said finally, his voice low and deliberate. "Whatever you had with Chase is over." "But he's your son," I whispered. "I don't care." The words were cold. "From today," Lucien continued, "you sleep in my room. You don't go anywhere without my knowledge. And you don't speak to him unless I allow it." Fear wrapped around my spine. I nodded. What else could I do? The next morning felt unreal. Lucien called a meeting in the study. His lawyer arrived promptly, carrying a leather folder thick with documents. And then Chase walked in. My heart stopped. He looked tired. Older. His posture was stiff, controlled, like he had trained himself never to show weakness again. When his eyes met mine, something flickered. Shock, pain, disbelief, but he said nothing. Lucien didn't waste time. "Effective immediately," he said, "Ophelia will assume the position of co-CEO of Sinclair Empire." I gasped. Chase's head snapped up. "What?" I whispered. Lucien turned to Chase, his gaze sharp and punishing. "And you," he said coldly, "will serve as her personal secretary. I won't waste company funds hiring someone when you are unemployed and under my roof." The room went still. "This is your consequence," Lucien continued. "You ran from your responsibilities. Now you will watch her sit where you abandoned. Y