Chapter 13 - The Paternity GambitTo destroy an enemy completely, you don't just cut off their head. You let them build a throne, let them sit on it in front of the entire world, and then you pull the floor out from under them.
The emergency hearing for the Mercer Founders Trust was held in a private, mahogany-paneled courtroom in downtown Manhattan. The stakes were astronomical. If the judge ruled in favor of Mia’s petition, Alexander Sterling would officially seize control of my empire.
I sat at the respondent's table in a flawless, tailored black suit, Arthur’s reassuring, heavy presence right beside me. Sarah Vance sat to my left, her briefcase packed with the lethal ammunition Julian had provided.
Across the aisle, Mia looked radiant. She wore a modest, expensive maternity dress designed to make her look like a devoted, grieving mother-to-be. Alexander Sterling sat next to her, exuding the smug, terrifying confidence of a man who believed he had already won.
“Your Honor,” Alexander’s high-priced attorney began, standing up. “We are here to formally request the immediate, conditional transfer of the two percent voting block held in the Mercer Founders Trust. My client, Mia Thorne, is carrying the verified biological heir of Julian Mercer. We have submitted the preliminary medical documentation of the pregnancy.”
“And the paternity?” the judge asked, peering over her glasses.
“We are prepared to submit to the court-ordered, non-invasive prenatal DNA test this afternoon, Your Honor,” the attorney replied smoothly. “We are confident the results will confirm Julian Mercer’s paternity, at which point Ms. Thorne will assume legal guardianship of the shares.”
Mia shot me a venomous, triumphant smirk across the aisle. She thought she had me cornered. She thought she could bribe the lab technicians before the results were published.
The judge turned to my table. “Does the current majority shareholder have any objections to the prenatal testing order?”
I stood up. I didn't look at the judge. I looked directly at Alexander Sterling.
“We have no objection to a DNA test, Your Honor,” I said, my voice ringing with crystal-clear, lethal authority. “However, we believe it is a waste of the court's time. The child Ms. Thorne is carrying cannot possibly be the heir to the Mercer Founders Trust.”
Alexander frowned, his aristocratic composure cracking slightly. “Objection. The respondent is stalling.”
“I am not stalling,” I countered, nodding to Sarah.
Sarah stood up and handed a thick, sealed medical folder to the bailiff, who passed it to the judge.
“Your Honor, what you are holding is a certified, notarized medical record from the Lexington Private Clinic in Manhattan,” I stated, my eyes locking onto Mia’s. “Five years ago, Julian Mercer underwent a bilateral vasectomy. The procedure was successful, and follow-up tests confirmed complete sterility. Julian Mercer cannot father children. He is medically incapable of being the father of Ms. Thorne’s baby.”
The courtroom went deathly silent.
Mia’s face drained of every drop of color. She looked like a ghost. Her hands began to tremble violently.
Alexander slowly turned his head to look at the woman sitting next to him. The smug, victorious billionaire vanished. In his place was a man who realized he had just spent hundreds of millions of dollars backing a fraud.
“Mia,” Alexander whispered, his voice a terrifying, vibrating rumble. “What is she talking about?”
“It’s... it’s a lie!” Mia shrieked, standing up in a blind panic. “She fabricated those documents! She’s trying to steal my baby’s inheritance!”
“The clinic’s chief surgeon is waiting in the hallway, ready to testify under oath, Your Honor,” Sarah Vance added coldly. “Furthermore, we have a sworn affidavit from Julian Mercer himself, confirming the procedure.”
The judge scowled, slamming her gavel. “Counsel, is your client attempting to defraud this court?”
Alexander didn't wait for his lawyer to answer. He stood up, his eyes burning with a murderous, unadulterated fury. He didn't care about the judge. He cared about the humiliation.
“Who is the father, Mia?” Alexander demanded, his voice echoing off the wood-paneled walls.
Mia backed away from him, hyperventilating. “Alexander, please, I can explain! It was before we met! I didn't know!”
“You used my capital to wage a corporate war based on a bastard child that doesn't even belong to my rival?” Alexander hissed, stepping toward her. “You made me a laughingstock.”
“Your Honor, the petitioner withdraws the motion,” Alexander’s lawyer frantically shouted, trying to salvage the disaster.
“Motion denied,” the judge snapped. “I am ordering an immediate investigation into perjury and attempted fraud. Bailiff, do not let Ms. Thorne leave this courtroom.”
Alexander didn't look at Mia again. He turned his terrifying, ice-cold gaze to Arthur, and then to me. He had lost. He had spent hundreds of millions of dollars consolidating forty-eight point nine percent of a company he could no longer control.
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“You won this battle, Claire,” Alexander whispered, his voice dripping with venom. “But you are still tied to me. I still own half your company.”
“Actually, Alexander,” Arthur finally spoke, standing up, a dark, victorious smile spreading across his face. “You don't.”
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