"Oh, right. I forgot. Our esteemed Ms. Ashford was in that terrible car accident. She probably couldn't have produced such an adorable child."
As I spoke, I dragged the edge of my fingernail lightly across the boy's cheek, leaving a thin red mark.
Vivienne froze. It took less than a second before she forced a smile through the panic written all over her face.
"Adrian, don't misunderstand. This child... this child is..."
For all her cunning, the great Ms. Ashford couldn't conjure a convincing excuse on the spot.
Then something seemed to click. She grabbed the boy and thrust him toward me.
"Adrian, this is Caleb's nephew. Caleb knew we couldn't have children, so out of gratitude for everything we've done for him, he offered the boy to us as our own son."
Her voice steadied as she spoke, growing almost buoyant, clearly pleased with the story she'd spun.
"Adrian, look how adorable he is. You've always wanted a child, haven't you? Good things come to good people. Caleb was so grateful for our support that he gave us a son."
Caleb watched the child land in my arms and nearly lunged forward. Vivienne seized his elbow and yanked him back, silencing him with a glare.
I took my time, smoothing the boy's downy hair, letting the sharp edge of my nail trace line after line across his soft cheek, each one leaving a pale streak on the delicate skin.
Caleb's eyes were rimming red, tears threatening to spill. Vivienne kept swallowing hard, her throat bobbing with every nervous gulp.
I drank it all in.
Then, without warning, I closed my hand around the child's throat and barked at Caleb.
"Do you want this boy to die in my hands?"
Caleb's composure shattered. A shrill cry tore through the ballroom.
"Adrian! That's Vivienne's son! You can't hurt her!"
