Chapter 3 - Blood Never Lies
The medical room inside the Caruso mansion rivaled any modern hospital. Dr. Evans, an older man with kind eyes but a nervous demeanor, took our samples. A simple cheek swab was all it took to potentially rewrite my entire existence. "The rapid results will be ready in four hours, Mr. Caruso," the doctor said, bowing his head slightly before retreating to the lab. Four hours. It felt like a lifetime.
Damian led me to a sprawling living room dominated by a massive stone fireplace. He gestured for me to sit on the leather sofa while Leah remained in my arms, having refused to let anyone else carry her, not even her nanny. Damian poured two glasses of amber liquid from a crystal decanter and handed one to me. "Drink. You look like you're going to faint." I took a small sip that burned my throat but warmed my shaking hands. "If... if she is mine," I started, not daring to look at him. "What happens then?"
Damian paused, his glass hovering near his lips. "We deal with the truth, Clara." Panic began to rise in my chest. "But she's your daughter," I argued. "You're a powerful man. If she's mine, will you let me see her? Or will you make me disappear?" The room grew deathly quiet. Damian slowly placed his glass on the table and walked over, crouching down in front of me to bring our eyes level. Up close, he was even more intimidating, but there was a strange vulnerability hiding beneath the surface.
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"I am a ruthless man, Clara," he said softly. "I destroy those who cross me. I take what I want." He reached out, his large hand gently brushing a strand of hair away from Leah's sleeping face. "But I love this little girl more than my own life. And for two years, I have watched her suffer in silence. Tonight, she spoke. She called you Mama. If you are the missing piece of her soul, I will not take you away from her." He stood back up, towering over me. "I will protect you both."
The hours crawled by. We sat in a heavy, pregnant silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound. Finally, the heavy oak doors opened. Dr. Evans walked in, holding a single folder, his hands visibly trembling. Damian snatched the folder from him, his eyes scanning the document. I held my breath. Damian’s chest stopped moving as he looked up at me. "Ninety-nine point nine percent," he whispered. The glass slipped from my hand, shattering on the hardwood floor as I looked down at Leah. My baby. My beautiful, stolen baby. She was alive.
