Chapter 1

At our tenth anniversary party, I overheard my husband's assistant say that the baby in my arms had eyes exactly like his.

At the time, Noah had just fallen asleep in my arms.

The six-week-old infant was wrapped in a pale blue blanket, his tiny face resting against my chest.

Half an hour earlier, Marcus had stood in the center of the ballroom and thanked me in front of our company's board members, our relatives, and our friends for not letting two miscarriages break me.

"Once the adoption is finalized next week," he said, holding my hand, "we'll finally be a real family."

Everyone applauded.

I smiled too, until Noah began to cry and I carried him toward the nursery the hotel had prepared.

The door wasn't completely closed.

Vanessa had her back to me, both hands pressed against Marcus's chest.

I was the one who had chosen the silver gown she was wearing.

Three years ago, when she attended her first company dinner and people mocked her for wearing the wrong kind of dress, I was also the one who draped my coat over her shoulders.

Now, she was staring up at my husband.

"How much longer are you going to let her hold our son?"

I stopped outside the door.

Noah stirred in my arms.

I instinctively supported the back of his neck, but my fingers had gone so stiff they were almost numb.

Marcus lowered his voice. "After tomorrow, he'll legally be mine and Elena's child."

"But I'm his mother."

"Of course you are." Marcus put an arm around her waist. "This is only temporary. Once Elena signs the adoption papers and the voting proxy, I'll take care of the rest."

Vanessa's eyes reddened. "You say that every time. What if she changes her mind?"

Marcus chuckled.

I knew that laugh all too well.

Whenever I worried about something, he would laugh like that, kiss my forehead, and tell me he had everything under control.

"She won't change her mind," he said. "She'll sign anything if it means becoming a mother."

My stomach clenched.

For the past nine months, I had paid Vanessa's apartment rent, prenatal care, and private hospital bills.

I had accompanied her to meetings with the adoption agency, waited in the hospital hallway the night she gave birth, and personally prepared Noah's nursery.

Marcus had told me Vanessa was simply a young woman who couldn't afford to raise a child on her own.

He hadn't told me she was carrying his child.

Noah opened his eyes.

They were gray and clear, exactly like Marcus's.

The nursery suddenly fell silent.

Marcus looked up and saw me through the gap in the door.

His hand immediately dropped from Vanessa's waist.

"Elena."

As he said my name, Vanessa quickly stepped away. The lipstick on her lips was already smudged.

I held Noah tighter. The pain in my chest made it almost impossible to breathe, but I didn't cry.

I looked down at the baby, then back at Marcus.

"He's your son?"

Marcus walked toward the door. "Give Noah to Vanessa first. We can talk in private."

He reached for the baby, and I took a step back.

The movement made his expression change.

The band in the ballroom began playing the song from our first dance at our wedding.

From across the hallway, I could still hear the guests laughing.

Everyone was waiting for us to return and cut our tenth-anniversary cake.

"Answer me." My voice trembled. "Is Noah your biological son?"

Marcus was silent for two seconds.

Vanessa covered her mouth as tears rolled down her cheeks.

I no longer needed an answer.

But Marcus still moved closer, his voice returning to its usual calm tone.

"Elena, it's complicated, but no one meant to hurt you."

I stared at him, my arms tightening around Noah.

"You tried to make me adopt your mistress's child."

"You love Noah," he said. "That's what matters most."

Footsteps sounded outside the nursery. The party host was walking down the hallway, looking for us.

Marcus glanced toward the door, then lowered his voice.

"Take the baby back in there and keep smiling. Once you sign the papers tomorrow, I'll explain everything."

He wasn't asking me.

He was certain I would obey.

I turned around with Noah in my arms and walked toward the ballroom.

Marcus visibly relaxed, believing he had regained control of the situation.

Then I stopped in front of two hundred guests and dropped the pen the host handed me into a champagne glass.

The clink of glass against metal silenced the entire ballroom.

I turned toward Marcus as he followed me out.

"You're right," I said. "Tonight is the perfect time to tell everyone exactly how we got this baby."