1
The search teams spread across the city like wildfire. Police sirens echoed into the dawn, and helicopters buzzed overhead. But Adrian was nowhere to be found.
Valeria hadn't slept. Her blazer was wrinkled, her eyes bloodshot—but her spine was straight.
"Has the FBI been contacted?" she snapped into the phone.
"Yes, ma'am. They've issued a BOLO. We're combing through traffic cams," Paul replied.
Valeria hung up and turned to Ella, who sat at the edge of the staircase, clutching Adrian's toy plane.
"She's hiding him like she hid her crimes," Ella said, voice cracking. "What if she takes him out of the country?"
"She won't," Valeria said coldly. "Because she has nowhere left to run."
A knock came at the door. Two detectives entered.
"We found something," one said. "A hidden journal in Gideon's study. You're going to want to see this."
---
2
The journal was leather-bound, old, the edges worn. Valeria recognized Gideon's handwriting immediately.
She flipped through it quickly—then stopped at a passage marked with a red ribbon.
"They must never know. Not Ella. Not Valeria. If the truth comes out, I'll lose everything. But it wasn't just lust... I loved her once. I even believed the child was mine. But the timing was off. I'm not sure anymore."
Valeria's pulse slowed. "What child?"
The detective answered quietly. "It doesn't say. But it's dated thirteen years ago."
Valeria turned to Ella, her mouth suddenly dry. "How old are you now?"
"Twenty," Ella answered. "Why?"
Valeria swallowed. A storm had begun brewing in her gut.
Because thirteen years ago… Ella was seven. And that was exactly when things started to unravel between her and Gideon.
---
3
Doreen paced the motel like a caged animal. Adrian had stopped speaking to her altogether. He just stared out the window, silent, haunted.
"I did everything for him," she muttered. "I gave up everything for him."
Her phone rang again. Unknown number.
"Hello?"
"This is your last warning," the voice on the other end said. "You're sloppy, Doreen. And now you've made the boy a liability."
"What are you saying?"
"You poisoned a billionaire. That makes you dangerous. But a talking boy? That makes you disposable."
The line went dead.
Doreen stared at the phone, shaking.
No. No one was taking her son away.
Not even him.
---
4
Back at the Monroe estate, Ella sat alone in the garden, clutching the journal. A shadow fell across her lap.
"You okay?" asked Paul.
"I don't know anymore." She passed him the book. "My father might not be my father."
Paul looked at the passage. "Could be referring to Adrian."
Ella shook her head. "No. The timing's wrong. It's me."
She looked up. "If Gideon isn't my real father… who is?"
Paul hesitated. "There's a way to find out. But you might not like the answer."
---
5
They tested old blood samples from the hospital archives. Ella's birth record, Gideon's DNA from preserved samples.
The results came in that evening.
No paternal match.
Ella staggered backward, the paper in her hand. Her knees hit the floor.
"Twenty years," she whispered. "Twenty years, and my whole life is a lie."
Valeria stepped forward, gently kneeling. "He loved you. That much I know."
"But he lied to me."
Valeria nodded slowly. "Yes. He did."
Ella stood. Her eyes were wild now.
"Then I need to know who my real father is."
---
6
Back in the motel, Doreen loaded Adrian into her car with a fake passport and a stash of emergency cash.
"We're leaving," she said. "Tonight."
Adrian finally spoke.
"Are you my real mother?"
Doreen slammed on the brakes, eyes wild. "What did you say?"
"You keep saying you saved me. But you never act like a mom. You act like a guard."
Doreen's lips trembled.
Adrian stared at her. "Did you steal me too?"
---
7
At the same time, a private investigator arrived at the Monroe estate with a bombshell.
"I traced Doreen's financial transactions over the past decade. She made several payments to a woman in Nevada. Same woman filed a report in 2012… claiming her newborn son was taken from the hospital without explanation."
Valeria froze. "Are you saying Adrian isn't even her son?"
The investigator nodded grimly. "I believe she stole him. The woman's name is Marissa Dale. She's been searching for her son for twelve years."
Ella whispered, "So he's not a Monroe. And he's not hers either."
"Then who is he?"
---
8
Doreen sat on the edge of a lake now, the boy beside her, as dusk blanketed the world in fire and gray.
"I did steal you," she whispered. "But I saved you, too. You were going to be adopted into a family who didn't want kids. Just money. I made sure you lived in a mansion. Had everything."
Adrian turned away from her. "I don't care about the mansion."
She clutched his hand. "You're all I have left."
Police sirens wailed in the distance.
Adrian stood, unmoving. "I don't want to run anymore."
And in that moment, she knew she'd already lost.
---
9
Doreen was arrested at 9:47 p.m. by a lakeside cabin in Hollow Brook.
Adrian was reunited with Valeria and Ella two hours later.
He didn't speak at first. Just buried his face into Valeria's shoulder and wept until he couldn't breathe.
Valeria held him tighter than she thought possible.
"You're safe," she whispered. "You're safe now."
---
10
Three days later, Ella sat across from her mother's old friend—an oncologist who'd known Valeria since medical school.
"You deserve the truth," the woman said, sliding a photo across the table.
Ella stared.
It was a younger version of the woman… and a man who looked exactly like her.
"That's your real father. His name was Elias Hart. He died in a car crash before you were born."
Ella blinked back tears.
"Why didn't Valeria tell me?"
"She was protecting you. She loved Gideon, and when he offered to raise you as his own… she agreed. But you were always hers."
Ella sat back, overwhelmed.
"So in the end… the only parent who didn't lie was the one I thought was the coldest."
---
11
At Gideon's gravesite, Ella stood with a single white rose.
She laid it on the polished stone.
"You hurt me," she whispered. "But you tried to protect me too. I think… I can finally let go."
She turned—and found Valeria waiting at the gate.
They walked out side by side.
Not quite mother and daughter by blood. But by choice.