After weekends, on a crisp Monday morning, Serena Voss dropped her son, Milo, at school, her mind already racing toward her next move. For five years, the sting of the Crane family’s betrayal had haunted her—their theft of her groundbreaking military tech research, her tarnished reputation, and the night at the Diamond Star Hotel that had shattered her life. Determined to uncover the identity of the man she had been framed with, whom she thinks to be a gigolo, Serena gathered her laptop and hacking tools. Every past attempt to trace him had hit a dead end, but today, a new plan sparked in her mind, infuriated by Victor's sudden claim of her son. She arrived at the Diamond Star Hotel, its sleek facade a stark contrast to the grim memories it held. The lobby had been transformed since that fateful night five years ago—new staff, modern decor, and polished marble floors replaced the dated interior she remembered. But one thing hadn’t changed: the pot-bellied manager, Natasha, whose gari

Serena hunched over her laptop, fingers trembling as they danced across the keyboard, eyes locked on the grainy, scrambled CCTV footage flickering on the screen. She’d been at it for hours—since dawn, when the world was still cloaked in pre-dawn gray, and now the sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across her cluttered living room. Deleted check-ins, tampered logins, and jumbled hotel placards taunted her, each dead end tightening the knot in her chest. She had to find the man. If she didn’t, Victor would sink his claws into her son, Milo. A forged DNA test? Child’s play for someone with doctors and officials on their payroll. Her hope was dwindling, like a candle burning down to its last flicker.She replayed the footage again, her breath catching as she scrubbed through the same hallway scene for the hundredth time. Then—*bam*—a fleeting figure stumbled into view, swaying as if drunk, visible for a mere half-second before the feed scrambled into static. Serena’s heart lurched.

Serena’s voice sliced through the evening air, cold and unyielding as steel. “Let me make something clear, Anamika. Your brother is *not* Milo’s father. He will *never* be.” Her words dripped with venom, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles whitened. She stood in the doorway, a barrier between her home and the woman who’d upended her life. Anamika, poised like a venomous serpent in her widow-black gown, tilted her head, her dark lips curling into a faint, mocking smile. Her sunglasses glinted under the compound’s floodlights, hiding eyes Serena knew were calculating every move. Anamika wasn’t here for pleasantries—she was stalling, buying time. Serena’s visit, her digging and inquiry for and into the logs and CCTV footage. The manager had helped erase the evidence, but Anamika, ever cunning, sensed a loose thread. Something was amiss, and she was here to tie it up. Anamika’s chuckle was low, almost theatrical. “Serena, darling, you don’t have to keep hating me. We’ll be fa

The next Monday's afternoon sun hung low, casting a harsh glare over Serena Vox’s modest apartment. Her hands trembled as she folded Milo’s favorite Spider-Man T-shirt, tucking it into a small duffel bag alongside his jeans and a worn stuffed dinosaur. The weight of the court’s decision pressed down on her like a lead blanket. Victor Crane’s lawyer had filed a petition in family court to establish paternity and secure custody and visitation rights, and now, that petition had been granted, a week long visitation. Milo, her heartbeat, her son with his bright eyes and boundless energy, was to spend a week with the Cranes—Victor’s family—while they awaited the next court hearing in two weeks. The thought twisted a knife in her gut.Serena’s investigation had hit wall after wall. Each time she clawed her way toward the truth—about the hotel, the gigolo, the night that changed everything—she was shoved back to square one. Anamika’s theft of her laptop had been a crippling blow, erasing he

Derrick’s mind reeled as he held Milo, the boy’s small frame nestled against him. The report from his adjutant general flashed through his thoughts—Serena Vox, Victor Crane’s disgraced ex-wife, divorced and shamed for allegedly selling herself to men for money. They’d met twice, first time, at a dimly lit restaurant, her eyes sharp but weary. Back then, Derrick had dismissed it when the story of her infidelity broke out. Why would a woman tied to the wealthy Cranes family cheat, let alone for cash? The logic escaped him, and he’d shrugged it off, chalking it up to the mysteries of human greed. But now, with Milo’s uncanny resemblance to him staring him in the face, doubts gnawed at his gut. Could there be more to Serena’s story?“Okay, kid,” Derrick said, forcing his voice steady as he regained his composure. “I need to go see your dad. Go join your big brother and sister.” He gestured toward Victor’s teenage twins, laughing in the garden.“No!” Milo’s voice cracked, his small hands