Seraphine leaned closer to him. “Good boy. You’re smart. Once you’re better, we’ll live together—just the three of us, okay?”
“Okay, Mommy,” Elias said happily, his little voice bright. “I love you more than her anyway.”
They laughed together—Adrian, Seraphine, and the boy I had believed was mine.
Something inside me twisted painfully. My heart sank. He loved her more. More than me.
I edged the door open just enough to see them fully. Elias sat on the bed, smiling at Seraphine as she gently wiped his face with a towel.
“You don’t love Mommy Vivienne anymore?” Adrian teased, ruffling his hair lightly.
Elias frowned, tiny lips pouting. “She’s mean sometimes. She always makes me sleep early and eat vegetables. She doesn’t even let me watch cartoons.”
Seraphine chuckled softly. “She’s just strict, sweetie. She doesn’t mean to be mean.”
“But I don’t like her,” Elias said firmly. “I like you, Mommy. You’re nicer. You give me candy, and you don’t yell.”
My hands shook against the doorframe. The words struck me harder than I expected.
Adrian leaned closer to him. “Remember what we talked about, Elias? You have to stay nice to her. Don’t make her suspicious, okay?”
Elias nodded eagerly. “Yes, Daddy. You said to pretend so she wouldn’t be sad.”
Seraphine smiled and kissed his forehead. “That’s my good boy.”
I turned and walked straight to the hospital administrator’s office. The nurse looked up, startled. “Mrs. Calder?”
“I’ll pay for all of Elias Calder’s medical bills,” I said, placing my bag on the desk, my voice calm but firm. “Every single expense. Whatever it costs, send the invoice to me.”
The nurse blinked slowly. “Of course, Mrs. Calder. That’s… generous.”
“But,” I continued, voice sharper, colder now, “under no circumstances is he to receive a kidney transplant. Do you understand? Not now. Not ever.”
The nurse’s eyes widened in shock. “I—I’m sorry, but—”
“I said it,” I repeated, voice unwavering. “Pay me fully. But make sure that surgery never happens.”
The elevator doors slid open with a sharp ding, and before I could even glance up from my paperwork, my father stormed into the office. His footsteps were heavy, reverberating across the marble floors with an authority that made the room feel smaller.
My assistant trailed behind him, pale and anxious. “Ma’am, I—I tried to stop him—”
“It’s alright,” I said quickly, though a tight knot formed in my stomach.