Chapter 4 - The Shattered Gala
"Everybody out," Julian roared, turning toward the hallway with an intensity that shocked the crowded corridor. "Get out of my house! Now!"
The guests hurried toward the foyer, whispers exploding into hushed arguments as coats were snatched from the rack and the heavy front door opened and shut repeatedly. Within ninety seconds, the sprawling multi-million-dollar penthouse was empty, save for the hum of the air conditioning and the three people standing amidst broken china and blood.
Emilia leaned against the edge of the sink for support, both hands clutching her swollen belly as if shielding her unborn child from radiation. "Tell me," she demanded, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "The note says 'Project Castor: Maternal Relative Match.' What does that mean?"
Julian stared at Sofia. His hands trembled uncontrollably. "Sofia... what did you do?"
Sofia crossed her arms, retreating behind an impenetrable mask of boardroom steel, though her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "You came to me in tears seven months ago, Julian. You were hysterical in my office. You said if Emilia lost this final attempt, she would take her own life. You begged me to find a private clinic with no waiting lists, no government oversight, no questions asked."
"I asked you for an offshore agency!" Julian screamed, stepping toward her with clenched fists. "I paid two hundred thousand dollars for high-grade international donor tissue!"
"And you trusted me to handle the logistics," Sofia replied coldly, not backing down an inch. "Do you think genetic perfection falls out of the sky on three days' notice? The donor was supposed to share your bloodline, your intellectual profile, your physical markers. The child had to look like you, Julian."
Emilia gasped, her fingers digging deeply into her gray shirt. The implication hit her with the physical force of a sledgehammer. Her face turned an unnatural shade of chalk white.
"Julian doesn't have a brother," Emilia breathed, staring at Sofia with pure horror. "He was an only child."
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"He was," Sofia whispered, her dark eyes locking onto Emilia's with cold, unyielding precision. "My late husband, David, was his half-brother. The sperm came from David’s cryo-preserved estate."
Emilia collapsed to her knees, hitting the floor beside the shards of porcelain.
