“Elena.”
Damon looked toward the door.
The handle moved.
He handed Elias and Elodie back to Sylvie.
“Lock the wheels on the bed,” he said.
“What are you doing?”
“Fixing the last seven months.”
He pressed the nurse call button, then dialed his head of security.
The door opened before the call connected.
Lucien entered alone.
He wore a charcoal overcoat and carried no umbrella now.
His silver hair was damp at the temples, but his expression remained calm.
He looked at Damon.
Then at Sylvie.
Then at the twins.
For one second, his composure slipped.
Only one second.
But Damon saw it.
“Damon,” Lucien said.
“This is not what it looks like.”
“It looks like you stole seven months of my children’s lives.”
Lucien closed the door behind him.
“You are emotional.”
“I am holding back.”
“There are matters you do not understand.”
“Then explain them.”
Lucien glanced at Sylvie.
“She has manipulated you before.”
Sylvie laughed without humor.
“That is what you told him about everyone who could expose you.”
Lucien’s gaze sharpened.
Damon stepped between him and the bed.
“Look at me.”
Lucien did.
“Did you intercept her letters?”
“No.”
“Did you instruct Martin to block her calls?”
“No.”
“Did you send messages from my number?”
“No.”
“Did you know she was pregnant?”
A pause.
It lasted less than a second.
But it was enough.
Damon’s voice dropped.
“You knew.”
Lucien exhaled.
“I knew there was a possibility.”
“They were born tonight.”
“I can see that.”
“They are my children.”
“Which is precisely why you need to think clearly.”
Lucien approached, lowering his voice as though offering fatherly advice.
“Do you understand what their existence does to the company? The trust activates immediately.
Forty-one percent of the voting control moves beyond our direct reach.
