Chapter 3 - The Penthouse Trap
The private elevator at the back of the plaza whisked them silently up to the 40th floor—the executive penthouse suite owned by the Han Conglomerate. The doors slid open to reveal a massive, minimalist room dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glowing skyline of Seoul.
The atmosphere inside was thick with unspoken rage and terrifying tension.
Four armed bodyguards stood stationed at the doors, their hands rested near their jacket holsters. Elena stood near the kitchen island, quietly preparing two cups of warm milk for the children.
Kieran and Kyla were sitting side-by-side on a massive grey leather sofa. Despite the overwhelming presence of the adults, the two six-year-olds were completely oblivious to the war brewing around them. They were holding hands, comparing the small freckles on their wrists, giggling softly whenever they discovered another matching feature.
"Look!" Kyla pointed to Kieran's left ear. "You have a tiny notch right here too!"
"I told you," Kieran said proudly, offering her a sweet, innocent smile. "We're twins. That means my mommy is your mommy now."
Across the vast living area, Mary stood near the glass wall, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, watching her children with a mixture of profound joy and paralyzing fear. Five years of believing her daughter was buried in a cold cemetery in Italy... and now, her baby girl was sitting ten feet away, alive, healthy, and smiling.
The door to the private study opened, and Alexander walked out.
He had discarded his jacket and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt, rolling his sleeves up his forearms. His expression was darker than the night sky outside the windows. Behind him walked a sharp-faced man in an expensive navy suit—Daniel Park, the Han family's head legal counsel and Alexander's most trusted strategist.
"The medical team is on their way up," Daniel informed Alexander in a low, precise voice. "They brought the rapid-sequence DNA testing kits. Results will take forty-five minutes once the swabs are drawn."
"I don't need a test to know those are my children, Daniel," Alexander said coldly, his eyes drifting over to the sofa where Kieran and Kyla were playing. "Look at them. They are carbon copies of each other."
"Legally, sir, if we are to initiate a full internal investigation and strip authority from those involved, we need undeniable biological proof," Daniel advised quietly. He glanced nervously toward Vivian, who was pacing back and forth near the bar, clutching a glass of scotch with white knuckles.
Alexander walked slowly over to Mary.
She felt his presence before he reached her—the subtle scent of sandalwood and rain that had once brought her comfort, but now felt like a warning signal.
"Mary," he said softly, stopping a respectful distance away. "Talk to me. Tell me what happened in Milan. Every detail."
Mary turned to face him, her eyes dark with old pain. "Why should I tell you anything, Alexander? Five years ago, when I tried to call you from the hospital, your secretary told me you were in a high-level meeting with the Chen family. When I sent you letters, they were returned unopened. And then your head of security, Victor, showed up at my door with an eviction notice and a check for five hundred thousand dollars."
Alexander’s jaw clenched so hard the muscles in his neck strained. "Victor?"
"Yes. Victor Rossi," Mary said bitterly. "He told me you realized a baby would be a liability to your ascension as head of the family. He said you offered to pay for the medical expenses, but you didn't want a child born out of wedlock ruining your alliance with the Chen family."
Alexander took a sharp, jagged breath. He turned his head slowly toward Daniel. "Where is Victor right now?"
"Victor is currently managing our logistics hub in Busan, sir," Daniel replied, his voice dropping an octave. "He was promoted shortly after you returned from Italy five years ago."
"Who authorized his promotion?" Alexander’s voice was deadly quiet—a quietness that made even the armed bodyguards at the door tense up.
Daniel hesitated, his eyes flicking briefly toward Vivian. "It... it was authorized by your late father's estate manager, with secondary approval from Lord Chen."
Vivian stopped pacing. Her glass rattled against her manicured fingernails. "Alexander, this is absurd! Are you really going to listen to the ramblings of a woman you haven't seen in five years? Victor was your father's most loyal captain! He was just following orders to protect the family name!"
Alexander turned on her, his dark eyes flashing with a predatory brilliance. "Protect the family name? By stealing my blood? By telling me my daughter's mother abandoned her, while telling Mary that our daughter died?!"
"I didn't know!" Vivian shrieked, her composed facade finally crumbling into hysterical desperate rage. "I had nothing to do with what happened in Italy! I was in New York!"
"You were in Milan, Vivian," Mary said suddenly, her voice cutting through the room like a silver blade.
Everyone in the room turned to look at Mary.
"What did you say?" Alexander asked, turning back to Mary.
May you like
Mary stepped closer, her eyes locked on Vivian's terrified face. "Five years ago, the night before I was discharged from the clinic... a woman came into my room while I was heavily sedated. She wore a dark coat and a silk scarf over her hair, but I remembered her voice. She stood over my bed and whispered, 'You were never meant to be a queen, Mary. Be glad you walked away with your life.' I thought it was a morphine dream."
Mary raised her hand, pointing her finger directly at Vivian's heart. "It wasn't a dream. It was you."
