Chapter 2

Sabine's POV

As soon as we arrived home, I offered to change "Felix’s" clothes. Under that guise, my fingers covertly, yet forcefully, wrenched several strands of blond hair from his scalp.

The boy cried out in pain. I immediately jammed a piece of toffee into his mouth.

"Did Mommy hurt you, sweetheart?" I cooed, cupping his face in fake affection.

Slipping into the blind spot of the hallway, I handed three sealed baggies—containing the blonde hair, stubble from Hollis’s razor, and my own oral swabs—to my Head of Security, Desmond.

"Expedite a paternity test. Between me and him, and Hollis and him. I want the results tonight." I stared dead into the eyes of the man who had worked for me for years.

Desmond nodded, expressionless. "Understood, boss."

When I walked back into the living room, a deeply absurd farce was playing out.

The boy had tripped on the fringe of the Persian rug and landed on his butt. He was entirely unharmed and didn't even shed a tear.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Hollis roared like an enraged beast, shoving aside Maria, our longtime nanny, who was holding a basin of warm water.

Terrified by the thunderous scream, baby Iris choked on her milk in her crib. Her tiny face flushed deep purple as she coughed violently.

Hollis was standing less than six feet away. He listened to his own biological daughter gagging, yet his gaze never shifted an inch. He frantically held the boy who had merely taken a tumble, inspecting his elbows over and over in pure panic.

I expertly patted Iris's back, coldly watching this display of "fatherly love."

Memories of my past life violently surged back.

In my previous life, I was blinded by this suffocating indulgence. I thought Hollis had just become extremely overprotective because he failed to shield his son from the fire. That was, until a woman walked into my bedroom holding a bowl of poisoned soup, a look of twisted triumph on her face. Colette—my most trusted, golden assistant.

"You're so pathetic," she had sneered. "That sweet little boy is actually my illegitimate son with Hollis."

He wasn't my Felix. He was their child.

And my Iris had been thrown outside into freezing water by them, left to slowly freeze to death.

A monstrous hatred boiled in my chest. I bit down on my tongue so hard I tasted copper.

Once Iris caught her breath, I kissed her damp forehead and forced on my mask of vulnerability. Holding my daughter, I walked up to Hollis, eyes red, and rested my trembling hand on his shoulder.

"Hollis, don't blame Maria. Watching a child get hurt breaks my heart too," I stared deep into his eyes. "Where did Felix recover these past five months? The people who took care of him must have worked so hard. I want to bring a generous gift and thank them in person."

Hollis's eyes violently dodged mine. He answered vaguely, "Out of town. A private rehab center. You don't need to go, I've already handled everything."

"No!" I raised my voice, adopting the absolute, demanding authority of a mother. "Do I not have the right to know who took care of my son?! Where was it?!"

"Willow Creek!" Hollis blurted out. Frustrated, he tried to cover it up, "An old country house. The nurse is eccentric and likes it quiet. Her name is Augusta. You don't know her, so leave it."

Willow Creek. Augusta.

Colette's mother.

I lowered my eyelashes to conceal the lethal urge to kill him right then and there. I rubbed my temples, feigning sheer exhaustion.

"I'm too tired. I'm taking Iris to the bedroom."

The second the master bedroom door clicked locked, I texted Desmond.

"Dig into Colette’s mother, Augusta’s, country house. Find out exactly what she's hiding there right now."

At 11:00 PM, my phone buzzed.

I scrolled past the medical jargon straight to the conclusion of the DNA report.

[Probability of maternal kinship between Sabine Calder and the tested sample (child): 0.00%.]

[Probability of paternal kinship between Hollis Crane and the tested sample (child): 99.99%.]

I dropped the phone, sprinted to the bathroom, and dry-heaved into the marble sink. It felt like I was puking out all the grief, deceit, and bile from the last five months.

Hollis. You destroyed my own flesh and blood, then openly brought the bastard you had with your mistress into my home, spending my money.

I slowly lifted my head, looking at the billionaire CEO in the mirror: eyes bloodshot, hair disheveled.

The weak woman you gaslit into insanity and murdered with poison in my past life is dead.

I turned on the faucet and splashed freezing water on my face. My eyes were lethally cold.

"Enjoy your sweet dreams tonight. Tomorrow morning, I’m going back to the office, and I'm taking back everything that's mine."