Chapter 1 - THE WOMAN HIS SON CALLED MOMMY
The slap was still echoing through the mansion when Adrian Blackwood realized something was terribly wrong.
His six-year-old son, Noah, was fighting desperately against Vanessa’s arms.
“Let me go!”
“I want Clara!”
Vanessa tightened her grip.
“She is the maid, Noah.”
“She is not your mother.”
Noah’s face crumpled.
“Yes, she is!”
The room went silent.
Clara stood beside the shattered remains of her dignity, one hand pressed against the burning mark on her cheek.
For almost six years, she had imagined this moment.
She had imagined screaming the truth.
She had imagined throwing documents across Adrian’s desk.
She had imagined grabbing Noah and running.
But she had never imagined her son would expose the first crack himself.
Adrian stared at her.
“Explain what you just said.”
Clara swallowed.
“Ask your wife.”
Vanessa laughed.
It sounded forced.
“This is insane.”
She turned toward Adrian.
“You’re actually going to listen to a servant?”
Adrian didn’t move.
“I asked Clara a question.”
“And I’m answering it.”
Vanessa pointed at Clara.
“She’s obsessed with Noah.”
“She has been for years.”
“She deliberately made him dependent on her.”
“She wants money.”
Clara almost smiled.
Money.
That was always Vanessa’s favorite explanation.
It was so much easier than the truth.
Noah twisted free.
He ran back to Clara and wrapped his arms around her waist.
Vanessa reached for him.
Adrian stopped her.
“Don’t.”
Vanessa froze.
It was the first time Adrian had ever used that tone with her.
Clara looked down at Noah.
His little fingers were gripping her apron.
“Tell him,” Noah whispered.
Clara’s heart broke.
Adrian heard him.
“Tell me what?”
Noah looked at his father.
“Clara sings the song.”
Adrian frowned.
“What song?”
“The one from when I was a baby.”
Clara’s face changed.
Vanessa saw it.
So did Adrian.
Noah began humming.
A soft melody.
Four simple notes.
Adrian stopped breathing.
He knew that melody.
Six years earlier, he had heard a woman humming it inside a private maternity suite.
He remembered standing outside the door.
He remembered flowers.
He remembered doctors.
And he remembered being told that the woman carrying his child was too weak to receive visitors.
Adrian slowly turned toward Clara.
“Where did you learn that song?”
Clara said nothing.
“Clara.”
Her eyes filled.
“I wrote it.”
Vanessa went pale.
Adrian stared at her.
“What?”
“I wrote that lullaby for my baby.”
Noah pressed closer against her.
Adrian’s voice became almost inaudible.
“What baby?”
Clara looked directly into his eyes.
“Your son.”
Vanessa lunged forward.
“She’s lying!”
Adrian raised one hand.
Vanessa stopped.
He never took his eyes off Clara.
“You’re telling me Noah is your son?”
Clara’s tears finally fell.
“Yes.”
Adrian stepped backward.
The billionaire who could negotiate billion-dollar acquisitions without blinking suddenly needed the edge of a table to steady himself.
“That’s impossible.”
“I know what you were told.”
“Then you know his mother died.”
Clara shook her head.
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“You were told his mother died.”
“That doesn’t mean she did.”
Adrian turned toward Vanessa.
She was already backing toward the door.
“Vanessa?”
Her lips parted.
Nothing came out.
Clara looked at the woman who had stolen six years from her.
“Tell him what happened at St. Matthew’s.”
Vanessa’s face drained of color.
Adrian noticed.
And that frightened him more than Clara’s accusation.
Because Vanessa Blackwood always had an answer.
This time, she didn’t.
Adrian walked toward her.
“What happened at St. Matthew’s?”
Vanessa whispered.
“Nothing.”
Clara shook her head.
“That’s another lie.”
Then Noah said something none of them expected.
“I know where Mommy keeps the box.”
Everyone turned toward him.
Vanessa’s eyes widened.
“What box?”
Noah pointed upstairs.
“The blue one.”
Clara froze.
Vanessa released a tiny gasp.
And Adrian heard it.
He looked at his wife.
“What’s inside the blue box?”
May you like
Vanessa didn’t answer.
She ran.
