“Cody!” Shannon cried out, wrenching herself from Steven’s grasp and rushing to scoop the boy into her arms.
Marian hurried over, worry etched across her face. “That’s the second time Cody’s been hit today! He’s the Heath family’s only kid. What if you injured him? How will you explain yourself to the old lady?”
Cody sobbed, his cries piercing the air. “Aunt Shannon, bad mommy hit me! I don’t want her—I want you to be my mommy!”
Shannon hugged him tight, gently stroking his tear-streaked cheek. “Shh, sweetheart, it’s okay. Let me take a look at you.”
Steven’s eyes blazed with anger. “Lucie, have you lost your mind? He’s just a child! How could you hit him so hard?”
Lucie didn’t respond. Her gaze locked on Shannon and Cody, her chest tightening. The resemblance between them was unmistakable; they could’ve been mirror images. Those brown eyes. The pointed chin. The delicate, pale brows.
She glanced at Marian. The same eyes stared back at her.
A cold, terrifying thought cracked through Lucie’s mind.
What if Cody wasn’t her child at all?
Four years ago, at her grandfather’s insistence, she’d agreed to meet Steven. Both of them were only children from powerful families, so producing an heir was everything.
After their wedding, Steven told her he struggled with infertility. They’d tried for a baby through IVF.
Lucie had cooperated every step of the way, but mistakes could happen during IVF. And now…
Shannon, still rocking Cody, shot Lucie a wounded, accusatory look. “Lucie, just take it out on me. How could you hurt a child? That’s heartless. You’ve gone too far.”
Lucie’s voice was ice. “Do I need your permission to discipline my own son?”
Steven’s jaw tightened. “Lucie, what is wrong with you today? I don’t want to fight. Calm down and apologize to Marian and Shannon. Right now.”
“Sign the divorce papers, Steven.”


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