I had imagined this moment many times.

In some versions, I confessed immediately.

In others, Alejandro remembered the Imperial Hotel on his own.

In none of them did our six-month-old son choose that exact moment to grab Alejandro’s finger and smile.

The dimple appeared.

Left cheek.

Exactly like his.

Alejandro stared at him.

Then at me.

“Sofia.”

I swallowed.

“Before I answer, promise you won’t get angry.”

“No.”

“At least pretend to think about it.”

“No.”

I sighed.

“Fine. Do you remember the Imperial Hotel?”

His entire body stiffened.

That was answer enough.

“The night of the storm,” I continued. “There was a man in room 1708.”

Alejandro’s eyes darkened.

“How do you know the room number?”

“Because I was there.”

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Our son babbled happily between us.

Alejandro looked at my face as if seeing it for the first time.

“That woman…”

“Yes.”

“You?”

“Yes.”

His gaze dropped slowly to the baby.

Then returned to me.

“You were pregnant when we married.”

“Three months.”

His voice became almost inaudible.

“Three months.”

I nodded.

He calculated immediately.

I watched the answer reach him.

His hand trembled.

Alejandro Pei—the man who negotiated billion-dollar acquisitions without blinking—actually trembled.

“He’s mine?”

“I think so.”

His expression changed instantly.

“You think?”

“Well, considering I haven’t been sleeping around—”

“Sofia.”

“Yes. He’s yours.”

Alejandro took the baby from my arms so suddenly that I almost protested.

Then he just stood there.

Holding him.

Our son grabbed his tie.

Alejandro didn’t stop him.

He looked at the tiny hand wrapped around the silk and whispered:

“My son.”

Something in my chest tightened.

Then his eyes snapped toward me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried on our wedding night.”

“You asked whether I was at the Imperial Hotel.”

“And then your mother yelled through the door.”

“That was six months ago.”

“I wasn’t certain.”

“You saw the scar.”

“Yes.”

“You heard my voice.”

“Yes.”

“You noticed he looks exactly like me.”

“Yes.”

His expression became dangerous.

“And you still said nothing?”

I crossed my arms.

“You told me you were sterile.”

“I told you no such thing.”

I froze.

“What?”

“I said I needed an heir.”

“But everyone says—”

“Everyone is wrong.”

That shut me up.

Alejandro handed the baby carefully back to me.

Then he took out his phone.

“Dr. Liang. My house. Tonight.”

I grabbed his sleeve.

“What are you doing?”

“Paternity test.”

I stared at him.

His face immediately changed.

“Not because I doubt you.”

“Then why?”

“Because if he’s biologically mine, I need proof before anyone else discovers it.”

That sounded ominous.

“Why?”

Alejandro was silent.

“Alejandro.”

He looked at our son.

“The story about my sterility wasn’t an accident.”

A chill moved down my back.

“What do you mean?”

He walked into his study and closed the door behind us.

Then, for the first time since our marriage, my husband told me the truth.

He had been kidnapped when he was twelve.

That part was real.

The injury was real too.

But years later, doctors had confirmed there was no reason he couldn’t father children.

His grandfather had decided not to correct the rumors.

“Why?”

“Because someone inside the Pei family arranged my kidnapping.”

My arms tightened around the baby.

Alejandro continued calmly.

“If I couldn’t have children, I was less threatening to certain people.”

“Who?”

“We never proved it.”

“And you’ve allowed everyone to believe you’re sterile for seventeen years?”

“Yes.”

I stared at him.

Suddenly our marriage looked completely different.

“Then why marry a pregnant woman?”

For the first time, Alejandro looked uncomfortable.

I narrowed my eyes.

“You knew.”

“No.”

“You suspected.”

Silence.

“Alejandro.”

His ears turned red.

Unbelievable.

The terrifying president of Pei Group could apparently survive kidnappers, corporate wars and seventeen years of lies—

but not this conversation.

“I recognized you.”

My mouth fell open.

“At our first meeting?”

“Yes.”

“You knew I was the woman from the hotel?”

“Yes.”

“And you said nothing?”

“You didn’t recognize me.”

“You were half-covered in blood that night!”

“I was not half-covered in blood.”

“You ruined two towels.”

“That isn’t relevant.”

I nearly screamed.

“Then you married me knowing I was three months pregnant?”

His gaze moved toward the baby.

“I calculated the dates.”

My mouth opened.

Closed.

Opened again.

“You thought he might be yours.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you ask?”

His answer came quietly.

“Because if he wasn’t, I still wanted to marry you.”

That destroyed every angry sentence I had prepared.

I stared at him.

“You barely spoke to me after the wedding.”

“I was trying to give you space.”

“You came home after midnight.”

“I was investigating the kidnapping.”

“People said you had lovers.”

“I don’t.”

“You let me think you hated being married to me.”

His jaw tightened.

“I thought you regretted marrying me.”

We stared at each other.

Six months of marriage.

Two idiots.

One baby.

Zero communication.

I started laughing.

Alejandro frowned.

“This isn’t funny.”

“It is a little funny.”

“It isn’t.”

Our son laughed because I was laughing.

Then Alejandro’s mouth twitched.

There.

The dimple.

I pointed immediately.

“See?”

He stopped smiling.

Too late.

That evening, Dr. Liang collected the samples.

The results arrived forty-eight hours later.

Probability of paternity:

99.9998%.

Alejandro read the page five times.

His mother read it once.

Then screamed so loudly that three servants came running.

“My grandson!”

She grabbed the baby.

Then she hit Alejandro’s shoulder.

“You could have children this entire time?!”

Apparently, he hadn’t told her either.

By dinner, his father knew.

By midnight, his grandfather knew.

But Alejandro gave one strict order.

Nothing left the house.

The outside world would continue believing our son wasn’t biologically his.

At least temporarily.

I thought that was excessive.

Until the third morning.

I woke to shouting downstairs.

Alejandro’s mother stood in the foyer holding an opened package.

Her face was white.

Inside was a silver baby bracelet.

Attached to it was a card.

Only one sentence had been written.

Some children should never have been born.

My blood froze.

Alejandro took the card without touching its edges.

“Who delivered this?”

“No return address,” the housekeeper whispered.

Alejandro immediately called security.

Then he turned toward me.

“Pack a bag.”

“What?”

“You and the baby are leaving.”

My heart dropped.

For one terrible second, I misunderstood him.

Then he added:

“With me.”

Within an hour, we were moved to a private residence whose location even most Pei relatives didn’t know.

That night, after our son fell asleep, Alejandro placed an old file on the table.

Inside was a photograph from seventeen years earlier.

The car used during his kidnapping.

A police report.

And a handwritten ransom note.

I read it.

Then read the card we’d received that morning.

My skin prickled.

“The handwriting…”

“Similar,” Alejandro said.

I looked at him.

“You think the same person sent both?”

“I think someone who believed I would never produce a biological heir has just discovered they were wrong.”

“But how?”

Only a handful of people knew the DNA result.

Alejandro and I looked at each other.

His parents.

His grandfather.

Dr. Liang.

A few household staff.

Someone had leaked it.

My phone suddenly vibrated.

My father.

I answered.

“Dad?”

His voice was strange.

“Sofia, are you with Alejandro?”

“Yes.”

“Put me on speaker.”

Alejandro looked up.

I did.

My father took a breath.

“There’s something I should have told you before the wedding.”

I frowned.

“What?”

“The Pei family didn’t approach me after learning you were pregnant.”

My fingers went cold.

“What are you talking about?”

“They approached me first.”

Alejandro slowly stood.

“When?” he asked.

My father answered:

“Two weeks before I discovered Sofia’s pregnancy.”

The room went silent.

That was impossible.

My father continued.

“Old Master Pei specifically asked whether Sofia would consider marrying Alejandro.”

I stared at my husband.

Alejandro looked equally shocked.

“But why me?” I whispered.

My father’s next words changed everything.

“I didn’t know then.”

A pause.

“Yesterday, Old Master Pei finally told me.”

I gripped the phone.

“Told you what?”

“The night Alejandro was kidnapped seventeen years ago, there was another child in that car.”

Alejandro stopped breathing.

My father said:

“A little girl.”

I felt suddenly cold.

“She was the one who opened the back door while the kidnappers were distracted.”

Alejandro’s face lost all color.

For the first time since I’d known him, genuine shock broke through every layer of control.

My father finished quietly:

“Her name was Sofia Su.”