Chapter 3 - The Young MindNoah adjusted his black rimless glasses with one finger, stepping half a pace forward into the blinding glare of the television lights.
He didn't cry. He didn't look afraid. He looked up at the six-billion-dollar tycoon standing trembling on the stage with a calm, businesslike indifference that dropped the temperature in the room below zero.
"Biologically speaking, you share fifty percent of our genetic material, Mr. Sullivan," Noah announced, his clear ten-year-old voice echoing through the silent ballroom through the live news feeds. "However, according to Section 14 of the Illinois Domestic Code, your failure to provide primary medical, residential, and educational support for three thousand six hundred and fifty consecutive days constitutes absolute paternal forfeiture."
Several prominent corporate attorneys in the front row dropped their champagne glasses.
CRASH!
The crystal shattered into a hundred glittering pieces against the white marble floorboards.
Noah pulled a small digital calculator tablet from his small inner tuxedo pocket, tapping the screen cleanly.
"According to my calculations," Noah stated flatly, looking directly at Ethan's pale face, "your company's annual valuation grew by seven hundred percent based on public trust metrics regarding your 'tragic bachelor' persona. Which means you monetized our non-existence to gain corporate leverage."
Ethan swallowed hard, his throat clicking loudly as he stared at his son in total, speech-bound shock. "Noah... son... please..."
Sophie stepped beside her twin brother, smoothing the front of her sapphire-blue dress, her bright hazel-gray eyes flashing with a fierce, brilliant intelligence.
"Don't call him son," Sophie said softly, her clear voice carrying an unbroken, royal grace. "You don't get to use our names to sell your stock, Mr. Sullivan. Mommy raised us alone. She worked three shifts while you were sitting in your big glass office. We don't want your money... we just came to show your friends who you really are."
Evelyn Sullivan thrashed her hands wildly against her silk dress, marching down the stage stairs toward us, her face flushed with unhinged, desperate rage.
"YOU TRAITOROUS LITTLE BRATS!" Evelyn shrieked, reaching her manicured, diamond-encrusted hand toward Sophie’s arm. "YOU WERE BROUGHT HERE TO DESTROY MY FAMILY'S STOCK!"
Before Evelyn’s fingers could touch my daughter, I stepped between them.
I caught Evelyn’s wrist in mid-air with an iron grip, holding her arm frozen in space, my hazel eyes locking onto hers with a dark, terrifying, and absolute heat that made her shrieks die instantly in her throat.
May you like
"Touch my daughter again, Evelyn," I whispered into the quiet air, every word cold as mountain ice, "and I will release the recorded audio of you offering me fifty thousand dollars ten years ago to abort them."
Evelyn’s face drained of every drop of color. Her knees buckled, and she stumbled backward into the arms of two terrified board members, weeping in total, sweat-slicked panic.
Related Stories
