A man stepped out beneath a large umbrella.
Even from the second-floor window, Damon recognized the silver hair, the straight posture, and the deliberate way he buttoned his coat.
Lucien Vexley.
Damon’s uncle.
The man who had raised him after his parents died.
The man who had signed the first check that kept Vexley Pharmaceuticals alive.
The man Damon trusted more than anyone in the world.
Sylvie swallowed.
“He found us.”
Damon turned from the window.
“Why would Lucien be looking for you?”
She reached beneath her pillow and pulled out a small black flash drive.
“Because your children are worth more than your company.”
Damon’s expression went cold.
“Explain.”
“Your father’s trust contains a succession clause,” she said.
“The moment you have biological children, forty-one percent of Vexley Holdings transfers into a protected trust for them.
You remain trustee until they come of age, but Lucien loses the voting bloc he has been controlling through your family shares.”
“That clause was removed years ago.”
“No.
Lucien told you it was removed.”
Damon stared at her.
Sylvie continued.
“I found the original trust amendment while reviewing documents during the divorce.
At first I thought it was an old draft.
Then your father’s former attorney confirmed it was valid.”
“Why were you reviewing trust documents?”
“Because someone included a waiver in the divorce settlement.
It would have required me to renounce all rights connected to future children.”
Damon’s mind raced.
He remembered the settlement package.
Hundreds of pages.
His legal team had assured him it was standard.
He had signed where he was told.
“Lucien prepared the settlement,” he said.
“Yes.”
The twins shifted in Damon’s arms.
He looked down at them, then back at Sylvie.
“He knew.”
“He knew before I did.” Her voice broke.
“One of my medical appointments was billed through the family insurance office.
Lucien’s people saw it.
After that, my calls stopped reaching you.
My letters were intercepted.
Your assistant told me you refused to speak to me.”
Damon thought of Martin Vale, his former executive assistant.
Martin had controlled his schedule, screened personal calls, and managed correspondence.
Damon had fired him three months earlier after confidential calendar information appeared in the press.
At the time, Lucien had defended Martin.
A cold understanding settled over Damon.
“What made you realize the messages were fake?”
“Your mother’s old housekeeper, Elena, found one of my letters in Lucien’s office.
She called me and warned me not to return home.
Then your father’s attorney contacted me.”
“The anonymous caller tonight?”
