Chapter 4 - The Shattered Illusion
A deafening, suffocating silence fell over the terrace.
The wind rustled the white roses along the pergola, but not a single guest moved.
Arthur stood frozen, his scotch glass slipping slightly in his hand. “What... what are you talking about? That’s absurd. Diego?”
Beatrice’s hands began to shake violently, the antique gold signet ring rattling against the velvet box. “This is a lie! This disgruntled woman is trying to extort us! Arthur, have her arrested immediately!”
“It’s no lie, Mrs. Vance,” Carmen said calmly. She stepped closer to Arthur Sr. and handed him the paper. “Check the clinical case number, Mr. Vance. Check the blood sample timestamps from eight years ago. Diego went to that clinic in Indiana when Selina was still living in Indianapolis. They were seeing each other long before Selina ever stepped foot in your Chicago showroom.”
Arthur Sr. pulled his reading glasses from his breast pocket. His eyes scanned the document. His face went from pale to a deep, dangerous crimson.
“Arthur...” Arthur Sr. rasped, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and disgust. “This is Diego’s signature. This is his account number from the old Indiana trust.”
Arthur spun around to face Selina. The young woman had backed away from the podium, her cheeks stripped of all color, her hands grasping Mateo’s shoulders so tightly the boy whined in pain.
“Selina?” Arthur’s voice was a high, strained whisper. “Selina, what is she talking about?”
Selina stammered, looking around wildly for an exit. “Arthur, listen to me—she’s twisting things! Diego and I... we were just friends back then! The test you took three months ago said you were the father!”
“Because Diego gave you his DNA profile to submit under Arthur’s name!” Carmen interjected fiercely. “They are brothers! They share fifty percent of their genetic marker pool! A cheap, private home-kit test looking at basic markers couldn't distinguish between two full brothers without a high-resolution, forty-six-locus comparative analysis! Diego paid off the lab assistant in Gary, Indiana to clear the results!”
At that exact moment, the grand glass doors of the estate house swung open.
Diego Vance stepped onto the patio, wearing an expensive silk shirt, holding a cigar. He had clearly been drinking. He looked at the silent crowd, the trembling housekeeper, and the pale faces of his family.
“Hey, what’s everyone looking so serious for?” Diego chuckled, oblivious to the atmosphere. “Did I miss the ring part?”
Arthur Sr. raised his cane and pointed it straight at his younger son. “Diego. Step forward.”
Diego’s smug smile faltered. He looked at Selina, whose eyes were wide with panic, then down at the paper sitting in his father’s lap.
“Dad... what’s going on?” Diego stuttered, taking a step back.
Arthur leaped off the stage like a madman. He dropped his scotch glass, shattering it against the marble, and grabbed Diego by his silk collar, slamming him hard against the brick pillar of the patio.
“Is he yours?!” Arthur roared, his face inches from his brother's. “Is Mateo your son? Answer me, you bastard! Answer me!”
“Arthur, stop!” Beatrice screamed, dropping the signet ring onto the grass as she rushed forward.
Diego choked, grabbing Arthur’s wrists, his eyes bulging with fear. “Arthur, man, calm down! It wasn't like that! I was broke! I owed two hundred grand to guys in Vegas! Selina said if we set it up so you thought he was your heir, you’d divorce Eleanor, give Selina a chunk of the family estate, and we’d split the payouts!”
The entire crowd of eighty high-society guests gasped simultaneously. Several women covered their mouths in horror. Corporate investors stood up from their tables, their expressions turning to pure disgust.
Arthur let go of Diego’s collar. Diego slumped against the pillar, coughing and wheezing.
Arthur turned slowly toward Selina. He looked at Mateo, the little boy he had paraded around as his pride and joy, the boy for whom he had abandoned his four biological daughters without a second thought.
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The realization hit Arthur like a physical blow.
He hadn't secured an heir. He hadn't outsmarted his wife. He had been played for a fool by his brother and his mistress, while discarding the only four children who had ever truly loved him.
