Chapter 3: The Blood Tie
Chapter 3: The Blood Tie
"Rosa!" Ethan’s voice tore through the mansion, a sudden, guttural roar that shattered his carefully cultivated, icy demeanor. Staff in the adjacent halls froze in terror.
Rosa appeared in the doorway almost instantly, a stack of freshly laundered Egyptian cotton towels slipping from her grasp and pooling on the floor. She didn't look at Ethan or Vanessa. She sprinted directly to Lily, sliding to her knees and scooping the crying child into her arms. Her hands trembled violently as she checked the little girl's head for blood, whispering frantic comforts in Spanish.
"Ethan, darling, please don't yell. The little brat was banging on your mother's piano—" Vanessa started, stepping forward with a practiced pout to touch his arm.
Ethan shoved her hand away with a force that made her stumble backward. He didn't even spare her a glance. He took a slow, agonizing step toward the kneeling maid, his tailored suit feeling suddenly too tight across his chest.
"Rosa," he breathed, the single syllable heavy with a thousand unanswered questions, betrayal, and a desperate, lingering hope. He crouched down, forcing her to look at him. He studied the child’s dark eyelashes, the stubborn shape of her jaw, the hauntingly familiar shade of hazel in her eyes that mirrored his own. "Rosa. Whose child is this?"
May you like
Rosa backed away, clutching Lily so tightly the girl squeaked. Her face was as pale as the marble beneath them. "She's mine, Mr. Caldwell. Only mine."
"Don't lie to me," he whispered, his voice cracking, the corporate titan replaced entirely by a broken man. "Not after four years. Not after I tore the city apart looking for you."
