Chapter 4 - Blood On The Altar Of Deceit
Dr. Samuel Evans knelt beside my children with gentle hands, his face solemn as he prepared the sterile needles and testing vials.
Julian whimpered, frightened by the sight of the medical equipment, but Gabriel moved with surprising gentleness, crouching down on the other side of the boy.
“Hey,” Gabriel murmured, his voice softer than any of his associates had ever heard in their entire lives.
“It only pinches for a second, little soldier.”
“Look at me, don’t look at the needle.”
Julian looked into Gabriel’s gray-green eyes, finding an uncanny, instinctual comfort that silenced his tears.
Gabriel held Julian’s tiny hand in his massive palm, his thumb stroking the child’s knuckles until the blood draw was complete.
Next, Dr. Evans drew samples from Leo and Mateo, who both stared stoically at their father without uttering a sound.
Finally, Gabriel extended his own arm, rolling up his crisp white cuff to let Dr. Evans draw a vial of his own dark blood.
“Take Dominic with you to ensure chain of custody,” Gabriel told the doctor.
“If anyone approaches the laboratory door without my personal clearance, put a bullet through their skull.”
Dominic nodded curtly, escorting Dr. Evans through the heavy service door behind the stage.
The ballroom remained plunged into an agonizing, suffocating suspension.
Billionaires sat on the velvet carpeting, their pride shattered by the reality of Gabriel Cross’s absolute rule.
Serena paced near the grand windows, her phone clutched tightly in her trembling fingers, frantically trying to find a cell signal that did not exist.
She kept glancing toward the back corridor, her eyes darting like a trapped animal calculating an impossible escape.
I sat on a cushioned bench, holding Julian against my chest while Leo and Mateo sat on either side of me, leaning their heads against my arms.
Gabriel did not return to his throne.
He remained standing five feet away from us, his eyes fixed upon the three boys with a mixture of reverence, grief, and terror.
“They have my grandfather’s chin,” Gabriel murmured, breaking the silence between us.
“Julian has your mother’s soft smile,” I answered quietly, keeping my voice low so the boys wouldn't hear the venom beneath.
“Not that you ever cared to remember what pure things looked like.”
“I looked for you, Claire,” he whispered, his voice trembling with an emotion he hadn't allowed himself to feel in half a decade.
“After the anger burned out, after the first month of silence in that empty penthouse, I sent men to look for you.”
“Don’t lie to me in front of our children, Gabriel,” I snapped coldly.
“You sent men? Your men followed me to the bus station and warned me that if I ever returned to the Tri-State area, my body would be found floating in the East River.”
Gabriel’s head snapped toward me, his eyes widening in pure horror.
“What did you say?” he demanded, his voice dropping into a deadly, guttural rumble.
“I never issued that order.”
“I tore New York apart looking for your trail.”
“The man who met me at the terminal showed me your personal signet ring, Gabriel,” I said, locking my gaze with his.
“He threw an envelope with five thousand dollars at my feet and told me it was a severance fee from Mr. Cross, on the condition that I never speak your name again.”
Gabriel reached toward his right pinky finger, where his heavy gold signet ring rested.
Then, his eyes shifted slowly toward Serena, who had stopped pacing and was now pressed against the mahogany bar, staring at him with stark dread.
The realization struck Gabriel like a physical blow.
Five years ago, Gabriel had misplaced that very signet ring for nearly three days before Serena miraculously found it beneath a sofa cushion in his study.
Before Gabriel could take a step toward her, the reinforced service door swung open.
Dr. Evans stepped back into the ballroom, holding a folder containing the computerized genetic readout from the rapid thermal cycler downstairs.
Dominic followed two paces behind, his hand resting heavily on his sidearm, his face unreadable.
The entire ballroom held its breath once more.
Two hundred elite guests leaned forward, desperate to witness the final judgment of the Cross dynasty.
Dr. Evans walked straight up to Gabriel, his hands visibly shaking as he opened the folder.
“The results, Samuel,” Gabriel commanded, his voice barely louder than a whisper, yet carrying the weight of a death sentence.
“Speak.”
Dr. Evans adjusted his glasses, cleared his dry throat, and looked directly into Gabriel’s eyes.
“There is a 99.999% genetic match across all three boys, Mr. Cross.”
“Leo, Julian, and Mateo are your biological sons.”
A collective gasp echoed across the vast ballroom floor.
Gabriel stood motionless, as if a lightning bolt had struck him directly in the chest.
His eyes filled with hot, uncontainable tears that spilled down his chiseled cheeks in front of his enemies, his allies, and his captive audience.
He was a father.
He had been a father for five years while living in a gilded tomb of lies.
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Suddenly, a sharp metallic click echoed from the corner of the room.
Everyone turned to see Serena holding a small, pearl-handled semi-automatic pistol, pointing the barrel directly at my chest.
