Chapter 3: The Paternal Compatibility Line
Fernando kept his back turned to her, hands braced on the edge of the mahogany desk, waiting for the hysterics. He expected her to fall to her knees. He expected the typical, desperate pleas of a woman caught in a devastating deception.
Instead, a chilling silence settled over the room.
The wife’s shoulders stopped trembling. Her grief seemed to evaporate, replaced instantly by a cold, sharp focus. A slow, tearful smirk began to pull at the corner of her lips—a expression so devoid of fear that it made the air in the room feel instantly colder.
She slowly raised her head, locking her sharp, mocking gaze directly onto the back of his neck.
"Fernando."
Her voice was calm, precise, and entirely steady. It lacked any trace of the tears that had just stained her face.
May you like
Fernando paused, his shoulders stiffening beneath his dark navy suit. He turned around slowly, his brow furrowed in irritation.
“You’re right,” she said, her eyes boring into his. “The baby isn’t yours. The data doesn't lie. But you didn't finish reading the report, did you? Look at the very bottom of the page. Look at the paternal uncle’s compatibility line that the laboratory included in the breakdown.”
