Chapter 4

"Andrew Lane." Darren echoed, rolling the name around in his mouth like he was trying to piece something together.

He let it hang there. Then a smile twisted his lips. Half crazed. Heartbreakingly bleak.

Suddenly, he shot his gaze at me, the menace in his eyes erupting into a storm of fury.

"Blair, you really are something else," he said, his tone a mix of disbelief and biting sarcasm.

He laughed. It sent chills down my spine.

"You got pregnant and ran off? Or are you seriously expecting me to believe this is just some wild coincidence?" he spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I felt frozen, barely holding onto my sanity as I rushed forward, desperate to get Andrew back.

"Give me back my child!" I cried, my voice trembling.

Darren held Andrew tight around the waist. He was not hurting him, but the possessiveness in his hold was unmistakable.

"Who's his father?" Darren stared me down, each word slow and biting.

I gritted my teeth, my nails digging into my palms. "It's none of your business! He's my son. Mine and my husband's."

"Husband?" He scoffed, like he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world. "Which husband? Go get him. Bring him here. I'd love to meet the guy who fathered a kid that looks exactly like me."

The room exploded. No one even tried to whisper anymore.

"Holy crap, they're identical!" someone blurted out.

"Wait, didn't they say Mr. Marshall couldn't have kids? Talk about a miracle. This kid's like a gift straight from the heavens," another person exclaimed.

"Looks like the Marshall family finally has their heir," someone else chimed in.

Madeline stood off to the side, her face as pale as a ghost. She glared at Andrew, jealousy and spite practically spilling out of her eyes. If Andrew got recognized, she was done. She wouldn't even have a toe in the door anymore.

"Darren, don't let her trick you!" she screamed. "She vanished for five years. Who knows who she's been messing around with? Maybe she just found a kid who looks like you, or had him made to look like you. It could be anyone's kid."

Darren didn't even glance at her. His eyes stayed on Andrew.

Andrew was scared by all the chaos, his lower lip quivering, tears threatening to spill, but he held them back and gave me a pleading look. "Mommy, I'm scared..."

That word "scared" shattered the last of Darren's defenses.

His heart, frozen solid from years of being broken, betrayal, and despair, suddenly melted. He didn't understand it. Didn't want it. But it happened anyway.

He awkwardly patted Andrew's back, his movements stiff and robotic.

"Don't be scared," Darren said, his voice low and rough, but somehow, the edge was gone.

Then he looked up at me, and in an instant, his eyes were cold and unyielding again.

"Seal off the area. If anyone breathes a word about what happened here today, they'll have to answer to me," Darren said, his voice icy and commanding.

The bodyguards moved fast, ushering the guests out and confiscating all the cameras and phones.

Soon, the vast ballroom held only the Marshalls.

Darren wheeled closer, closing the distance between us, his presence looming over me.

"Blair, I'm giving you one last chance. How old is this kid?" His voice was icy and uncompromising.

I had nowhere left to go, with my back pressed against the cold wall.

I knew I couldn't hide it anymore.

Andrew's birth certificate and medical records—if Darren wanted them, he could have them on his desk in minutes.

"Four and a half," I said, closing my eyes, admitting it in utter despair.

Four and a half.

The timing checked out.

That was the year we broke up.

Darren suddenly burst out laughing, his voice echoing through the vast room with a cathartic madness.

"Good. Great, actually," he said, his laughter turning bitter.

His laughter brought tears to his eyes as he pointed at his crippled leg, his gaze fierce and cold.

"Blair, you made me suffer. Five years of searching. And when I finally accept I'll never have kids, you show up with such a gift," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

I shielded Andrew, standing between him and Darren. "Darren, you're the one who threw me out! You picked Madeline. I'm not after your family's wealth or status. I just want a quiet life with Andy. Please. Just let us go."

"Let you go?" He stared at me like I'd lost my mind.

He suddenly reached out, gripping my chin tightly and forcing me to look up at him.

He went on, "Don't even think about it.

"This boy is a Marshall. The only heir to Marshall Holdings."

He leaned in, his breath warm and sinister against my ear, like a snake slithering close.

He added, "As for you, you gave me a son. Now you're responsible for him. And don't even think about running. You're mine. Forever."

That night, I was "invited" to the Marshall family's estate in the hills. More like dragged, really.

They took Andrew for a paternity test. The result was obvious, but the old relics in the family needed their little ritual.

I was locked in the master bedroom where I used to live.

To my surprise, nothing had changed.

The few clothes I'd left behind were still hanging in the closet, and even the half-used face cream was still on the dressing table, though it had long expired.

For five years, it was like this place had been frozen in time. Nothing had changed at all.