“You’re too late, Elena. Your son doesn’t sleep indoors anymore. He sleeps where he can't ruin the carpets.”

Back at the Charleston estate, the atmosphere was toxic.

Julian paced the length of the Persian rug, a glass of bourbon trembling in his hand. The smug satisfaction of the afternoon had completely evaporated, replaced by a cold, creeping dread. Elena was alive. Worse, she knew about the clinic.

"Julian, stop pacing, you're making me dizzy," Chloe whined from the sofa, bouncing the crying infant on her knee. "So what if she’s back? You have the lawyers. You have the abandonment paperwork."

"You don't understand," Julian snapped, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "You don't know her. Elena isn't just some rich heiress. She’s... she’s a ghost. When we met, she worked in 'government consulting.' I don't even know what she actually does!"

Beatrice walked into the room, her face pale and pinched. She looked at Chloe, then at the baby. Elena's words echoed in the grand foyer. Five years ago, you sobbed in a specialist's office... irreversible sterility.

"Julian," Beatrice said, her voice razor-sharp. "Is it true?"

Julian froze. "Mother, not now."

"Is it true?!" Beatrice shrieked, dropping her aristocratic poise. "Did you know you couldn't have children?"

Chloe's eyes darted nervously toward the door. "Julian, tell her she's lying. Tell her the crazy bitch is making it up!"

Julian looked at his mother, the lie dying on his lips. "It... the doctors said it was a one-in-a-million chance. Miracles happen, Mother."

Beatrice stared at him, then turned her terrifying gaze onto Chloe. "Pack your bags. Leave the baby. We are getting a DNA test tomorrow morning. If this child has a drop of Vance blood in him, you will be taken care of. If not, I will ruin you."

Chloe scrambled to her feet, clutching the baby tightly. "You can't do this! Julian, do something!"

But Julian's phone buzzed in his pocket. It was his Chief Financial Officer.

"Julian," the CFO's panicked voice blared through the speaker. "The Cayman accounts. They’re gone."

"What do you mean, gone?" Julian demanded, his blood running cold.

"I mean the cryptographic keys were just reset. Every liquid asset, every emergency fund, every dime you funneled out of Elena's company... it's been transferred to a blind trust. We have exactly zero dollars in operational capital."