At nine in the morning, Adrian Blake was already dressed for his wedding.

Black suit.

Silver cuff links.

Expression perfectly controlled.

Claire stood before the mirror while two stylists adjusted her veil.

Everything was exactly as she had wanted.

Except for one thing.

I wasn’t there.

Adrian checked his phone for the sixth time.

Then he looked at his assistant.

“Where is Elena?”

The assistant hesitated.

“We still haven’t reached her.”

Adrian frowned.

“She knows the address.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Send someone to the village house.”

“We already did.”

“And?”

The assistant’s face became strange.

“The house was empty.”

Claire touched Adrian’s arm.

“Maybe she finally understood that she shouldn’t come.”

He looked at her.

“No.”

His answer came too quickly.

“She’ll come.”

Standing several feet away, invisible to everyone, I watched him.

Even now, he wasn’t worried about me.

He was worried that I might deny him the final humiliation he had prepared.

He wanted me standing among the guests while he married Claire.

He wanted proof that he had won.

Then his assistant’s phone rang.

The man answered.

Listened.

And went completely pale.

Adrian noticed.

“What happened?”

No answer.

“Speak.”

The assistant lowered the phone.

“Mr. Blake…”

His voice trembled.

“The police called.”

Something changed in Adrian’s eyes.

“They confirmed that Elena was found near the shoreline early this morning.”

Silence.

Claire’s hand slowly slipped from his arm.

Adrian stared at the assistant.

“What do you mean, confirmed?”

“Sir…”

“No.”

He laughed once.

It sounded almost angry.

“No. Elena does things like this when she wants attention.”

I watched him.

Strangely, I felt nothing.

The system’s voice appeared quietly beside me.

—Hostess.

—I know.

—You don’t have to watch.

I looked at Adrian.

—Yes, I do.

Not because I still loved him.

Because I wanted to understand how a man could destroy something for years and still look surprised when it finally disappeared.

Adrian grabbed his car keys.

Claire stepped in front of him.

“Our ceremony begins in forty minutes.”

He looked at her as if he had forgotten she existed.

“Elena is dead.”

Claire went silent.

Adrian drove to the police station himself.

I was pulled after him by the invisible force binding me to his soul.

There, an officer placed several recovered belongings in front of him.

My phone.

My wallet.

The funeral-home document.

And Mia’s photograph.

Adrian picked up the picture.

Our daughter was smiling.

He stared at it for a long time.

Then his eyes moved toward the funeral receipt.

MIA BLAKE — CREMATION RELEASED TO ELENA BLAKE.

His fingers started trembling.

“When was my daughter cremated?”

The officer looked confused.

“You didn’t know?”

Adrian couldn’t answer.

Because while I had been arranging Mia’s final farewell alone, he had been beside Claire and Noah.

He suddenly called the hospital.

“I want every record related to Mia Blake’s final procedure.”

The person on the other end tried to explain privacy protocols.

Adrian shouted until they transferred him to administration.

An hour later, he was standing inside the same hospital where Mia had died.

Claire arrived behind him.

Still wearing part of her bridal makeup.

“Adrian, please.”

He turned.

“Why are you here?”

Her face crumpled.

“Because I’m worried about you.”

“Where were you when Mia died?”

Claire froze.

I did too.

Adrian had never asked that question before.

“I was with Noah.”

“And where was I?”

“With us.”

His face slowly changed.

Exactly.

He had been with Claire.

With Noah.

Not with his own daughter.

A senior surgeon entered carrying a file.

“Mr. Blake?”

Adrian immediately stood.

“Tell me what happened that day.”

The doctor looked uncomfortable.

“Your daughter’s case was complicated.”

“I know that.”

“No.”

The doctor placed the folder down.

“I don’t think you do.”

Claire suddenly interrupted.

“Adrian, this isn’t necessary.”

He looked at her.

For the first time, suspicion replaced tenderness.

“Why?”

She said nothing.

The doctor opened the record.

“There were two treatment plans under consideration.”

Adrian frowned.

“Two?”

“Yes.”

“One involved the procedure performed that day.”

“And the other?”

“A delayed intervention with additional consultation.”

Adrian’s face tightened.

“Why wasn’t I told?”

The doctor hesitated.

“You were.”

Silence.

A document was pushed toward him.

At the bottom was Adrian’s electronic authorization.

His eyes moved across the page.

Then stopped.

Beside his signature was another statement.

Guardian elects immediate intervention after declining secondary consultation.

Adrian went white.

“I never declined anything.”

The doctor looked surprised.

“This authorization came directly from your account.”

Claire took one step backward.

Adrian noticed.

He slowly turned toward her.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Claire.”

“I was trying to save Noah!”

Her answer came too fast.

The entire room froze.

Adrian’s expression emptied.

I stared at her.

The doctor frowned.

“What does Noah have to do with Mia’s authorization?”

Claire realized she had made a mistake.

“Nothing. I just meant…”

Adrian moved toward her.

“Why did you have access to my account?”

Tears appeared instantly.

“You gave me the password years ago.”

“For emergencies.”

“It was an emergency!”

“My daughter was the patient!”

“And my son needed you!”

Adrian stared at her.

Those words finally exposed the truth.

Claire had never considered Mia equally important.

And Adrian had spent years teaching her that she was right.

The doctor turned several pages.

“There is something else.”

Adrian looked at him.

“What?”

“The urgency surrounding Noah’s condition was based on medical information submitted from another institution.”

Claire’s face lost color.

The doctor continued.

“Our audit later discovered inconsistencies.”

“What inconsistencies?”

“The report overstated the immediate risk.”

Adrian stopped breathing.

“He wasn’t dying?”

“Mr. Blake, I can’t simplify it that way. Noah needed treatment.”

The doctor paused.

“But the situation was not documented as requiring the decision you were pressured to make that night.”

Adrian slowly sat down.

For years, he had lived with one justification.

He had sacrificed everything because Noah had supposedly had no time.

Now even that excuse was collapsing.

Claire began crying.

“I was scared.”

Adrian looked at her.

“And Elena?”

Claire went silent.

“What about Elena’s fear?”

No answer.

“What about Mia?”

Still nothing.

His phone rang.

His assistant.

Adrian answered.

“Sir, we found something at the village house.”

“What?”

“A sealed envelope inside Mrs. Blake’s desk.”

My attention sharpened.

I didn’t remember leaving one.

Neither did the system.

—Hostess, that object was not present when you left.

I turned toward the invisible voice.

—What?

The system repeated:

—Someone placed it there afterward.

Adrian drove back immediately.

By the time he reached the house, the wedding had officially been canceled.

Hundreds of guests were being sent home.

Claire’s perfect ceremony was over before a single vow had been spoken.

On my old desk lay a brown envelope.

Adrian tore it open.

Inside was a DNA report.

Noah’s name appeared at the top.

Adrian frowned.

Then he reached the conclusion.

PATERNITY: ADRIAN BLAKE EXCLUDED.

He stared at the page.

Once.

Twice.

His entire body went rigid.

Claire’s son wasn’t his.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

Attached behind the DNA report was a copy of Noah’s original birth registration.

The father’s identity had been hidden for years.

Now the name was visible.

Adrian whispered it aloud.

Then dropped the papers.

I moved closer.

And for the first time since my existence had been reduced to following him, even I felt something like shock.

Because Noah’s biological father was listed as:

Nathan Blake.

Adrian’s older brother.

The man Adrian believed had died seven years earlier.

Then the system’s voice suddenly changed.

No longer gentle.

No longer distant.

It sounded like an alarm.

—Hostess, anomaly detected.

I looked up.

—What anomaly?

A translucent screen appeared before me.

One line flashed across it.

MISSION TARGET ERROR.

My nonexistent heartbeat seemed to stop.

—What does that mean?

The system remained silent for three terrifying seconds.

Then it answered:

—Adrian Blake was never the man you were sent here to conquer.

And behind us, the front door slowly opened.

A man stepped inside.

Adrian looked up.

His face became completely white.

Because standing in the doorway was Nathan Blake.