"For Leo. For his future. For ensuring this never happens again—me being shut out of my son's life." His gaze pinned me. "Sleep well, Isla. Tomorrow, everything changes."
He left, the door closing softly behind him.
I stood there for a long moment, then checked on Leo. He was sound asleep, Rex clutched tight, peaceful and oblivious to the storm about to hit.
I returned to my bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, phone in hand. No messages. No missed calls. Just silence.
The test was done. By morning, I'd have confirmation of what I already knew—Leo was Cassian's son. And with that confirmation would come—what? Custody battles? Lawyers? Would Cassian try to take him from me?
I'd seen the way he looked at Leo tonight. The hunger. The possessiveness. The determination.
Cassian Barone didn't lose. He didn't compromise. He took what he wanted and crushed anyone who stood in his way.
And now he wanted his son.
I pulled up my phone and searched for family lawyers, bookmarking three. Just in case. Just to be prepared.
But even as I did, I knew the truth: I couldn't fight Cassian. He had unlimited resources, unlimited power. If he wanted Leo, he could take him.
The only question was whether he'd let me be part of my son's life when he did.
I set the phone down and lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep felt impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Cassian's face—the anger, the pain, the determination.
Tomorrow, everything changes,he'd said.
And I believed him.
I just didn't know if I'd survive what came next.
CHAPTER 13
Cassian
My phone vibrated against the mahogany desk at 6:47 a.m., the screen illuminating with the message I'd been expecting since last night.
DNA Test Results - CONFIRMED. Probability of Paternity: 99.9%
I set the phone down with deliberate care. The result confirmed what I'd known in my bones since seeing Leo's photo—he was mine. But now I had proof. Legal, irrefutable proof.
And with proof came power.
I stood from my desk and moved to the windows overlooking Manhattan. Somewhere out there, five miles away in Brooklyn, Isla was probably awake too. Probably panicking. Probably researching custody lawyers and wondering how to fight me.
She couldn't. Not successfully.
But I didn't want a fight. I wanted my son. And the fastest way to ensure that was to bring them both under my protection.
I pulled up my contacts and called Marco.
"Results?" he answered immediately.
"Confirmed. He's mine." I checked my watch. "Is the Morrison penthouse ready?"
"Finished yesterday. Full security protocols installed—cameras, reinforced locks, panic buttons. The third bedroom is set up for a child." Marco paused. "You're really doing this? Bringing them in?"
"They'll be here later this morning." I'd already made the decision last night, watching Leo sleep, seeing how vulnerable they both were in that small apartment. "I need a car at her building. Ten a.m. And Marco? Discretion. No one outside our inner circle knows about the boy. Not yet."
"Understood. What about Matteo? He's been asking questions—"
