Damian froze. Not even a full second passed before he forced a smile onto his panicked face.
"Serena, don't misunderstand. This child... this child is..."
In the scramble for an answer, even the great and cunning CEO Ashford couldn't produce a plausible excuse.
Then something seemed to click. He thrust the boy toward me without hesitation.
"Serena, this is Edna's little nephew. She knows we can't have children of our own, so out of gratitude, she offered him to us—to raise as our son."
His voice steadied as he spoke, and he grew visibly pleased with himself for landing on such a convenient story.
"Serena, look how adorable he is. You've always wanted a child, haven't you? Good things come to good people. Edna was so grateful for everything we did for her that she gave us a child of her own."
Edna watched the boy pass into my arms and couldn't help herself. She lurched forward, but Damian caught her by the arm and shot her a warning glare.
I took my time, smoothing the boy's downy hair, letting the sharp edge of my nail drag across his soft cheek again and again, each stroke leaving a pale line on his skin.
I watched Edna's eyes rim red, tears pooling and threatening to spill. I savored the way Damian swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with every nervous gulp.
Then, in one swift motion, I closed my hand around the boy's throat and snarled:
"Edna Fox—you've already lost one son to a miscarriage. Do you want this one to die in my hands?"
Edna's face drained of color. A shrill scream tore through the banquet hall:
"Serena Calloway! That is Damian's son—you can't hurt him!"
