Chapter 2 - The Matriarch's Confession
Ethan stood by the closed door for a long time. When he finally turned back to me, the polished, untouchable billionaire was gone. He looked like a man who had just survived a horrific car crash.
He walked over to the bed, picked up his phone, and dialed a number. He pressed the speaker button and set the phone down on the nightstand.
It rang twice before Margaret Blackwood answered.
"Ethan," his mother’s voice clipped sharply through the speaker, dripping with aristocratic irritation. "Victoria just ran into the private dining room in tears. She is babbling about a broken engagement. Please tell me you have not lost your mind and ruined this merger over a momentary lapse in judgment."
"Did you forge the letter, Mother?" Ethan asked. He didn't yell. The sheer, terrifying emptiness of his tone was far worse than a scream.
Margaret sighed, an exasperated, unapologetic sound. "Victoria talks too much. Yes, Ethan, I wrote the letter. And I hired a digital security firm to spoof her university email account to send you that pathetic rejection. You were infatuated with a girl who had no pedigree, no capital, and no place in our world. I did what was necessary to protect the Blackwood legacy. You were furious for a few months, but you survived, didn't you? And you secured the Hayes merger. You should be thanking me."
I reached down and picked up Leo, holding his warm, solid weight against my chest. My hands were shaking, not from fear, but from a maternal rage so pure and blinding it made my vision blur. This woman had stolen the father of my child without a single ounce of remorse.
Ethan looked at Leo resting in my arms. A single tear broke free and tracked down his face.
"You didn't protect the Blackwood legacy, Mother," Ethan said, his voice finally cracking under the immense weight of the betrayal. "You stole it. Sarah didn't just walk away two years ago. She was pregnant."
The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. When Margaret finally spoke, her polished composure was entirely gone, replaced by frantic, calculating panic.
"A child?" Margaret gasped. "Are you certain it is yours? She could be lying, Ethan! She is a gold-digger! If there is a child, we will demand a DNA test immediately. If it is yours, I will have the family attorneys draft a settlement. We will offer her ten million dollars for full custody, and she will sign a non-disclosure agreement. We can raise the child with Victoria."
Ethan let out a broken, humorless laugh that sent a chill down my spine.
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"You will never speak to her, and you will never come within a hundred miles of my son," Ethan vowed, his eyes burning with an unyielding, destructive fire. "Enjoy the dinner, Mother. Because by tomorrow morning, you are going to be entirely, spectacularly bankrupt."
He ended the call, cutting off her hysterical protests.
