Hes not my child, the millionaire said coldly, his voice echoing through the marble hallway. Pack your things and leave. Both of you. He pointed to the door. His wife clutched the baby to her chest, eyes brimming with tears. If only he knew
Outside, the storm raged as fiercely as the one inside. Leona stood frozen, her knuckles white as she held little Thomas. Her husband, Daniel Mayfieldbillionaire tycoon and head of the Mayfield familyglared at her with a fury shed never seen in their ten years of marriage.
Daniel, please, Leona whispered, her voice trembling. You dont understand what youre saying.
I understand perfectly, he snapped. That boy isnt mine. I had a DNA test done last week. The results are clear.
The accusation hurt worse than a physical blow. Leonas knees nearly buckled.
You did a test without telling me?
I had to. He doesnt look like me, doesnt act like me. And I couldnt ignore the rumours any longer.
Rumours? Daniel, hes a baby! And he *is* your son. I swear on everything sacred.
But Daniel had already made up his mind.
Your things will be sent to your fathers house. Dont come back here. Ever.
For a moment, Leona hesitatedhoping this was just another one of his impulsive outbursts, the kind that would fade by morning. But the ice in his voice left no room for doubt. She turned and walked out, her heels clicking on the marble as thunder shook the mansion.
Leona had grown up modestly but married into a world of privilege. Elegant, discreet, sharpeverything the magazines praised and high society envied. None of it mattered now.
As the limousine carried her and Thomas back to her fathers cottage in the Cotswolds, her mind raced. Shed been loyal. Shed loved Daniel, stood by him when the markets crashed, when the press tore him apart, even when his mother looked down on her. And now, hed thrown her out like a stranger.
Her father, Thomas Whitmore, opened the door, eyes widening at the sight of her.
Leona? Whats happened?
She collapsed into his arms. He said Thomas isnt his He threw us out.
Thomass jaw tightened. Come inside, love.
In the days that followed, Leona adjusted to her new life. The cottage was small, her old bedroom nearly unchanged. The baby, oblivious, giggled and babbled, giving her moments of peace.
But something gnawed at her: the DNA test. How could it be wrong?
Desperate for answers, she went to the lab where Daniel had the test done. She had contactsand favours to call in. What she found chilled her to the bone.
The test had been tampered with.
Meanwhile, Daniel was alone in the mansion, tormented by the silence. He told himself hed done the right thinghe couldnt raise another mans son. But guilt ate at him. He avoided Thomass nursery, until curiosity got the better of him. Seeing the empty crib, the stuffed giraffe, the tiny shoes in the cupboard, something inside him shattered.
His mother, Beatrice, didnt help.
I warned you, Daniel, she said, sipping her tea. That Whitmore girl was never good enough for you.
Even she frowned when Daniel didnt respond.
Days passed. A week.
Then a letter arrived.
No return address. Just a sheet of paper and a photograph.
Daniels hands shook as he read.
*Daniel,*
*You were wrong. Completely.*
*You wanted proofhere it is. I found the original results. The test was falsified. And this photo, hidden in your mothers office You know exactly what it means.*
*Leona.*
The truth hit like a tombstone. Hed seen the photo beforehis mother and the familys financial advisor, together in a way that left no question. The reason for the tampering was clear. A threat to the inheritance, all because of a legitimate heir. His pride, his rageweapons used to tear his own son from him.
Leonathe only woman whod ever truly loved himhad shown him the cost of distrust and silence. The greatest wealth, he learned too late, wasnt measured in bank accounts, but in the people who loved you unconditionally, in the truths you chose to share.
The echo of Leonas words was the loudest sound in the empty mansion nowa haunting reminder of the family hed destroyed with his pride. Some doubts, when left unspoken, become storms that destroy everything.
