"Serena, what did you do to Hugo?"
I walked forward with a cold smile, my gaze cutting into him like a blade.
"Damian, why are you so worked up? Don't tell me this is your son."
"Oh, right—I almost forgot. Our dear Mr. Ashford suffered that terrible car accident. He shouldn't be able to father such an adorable child."
As I spoke, I let the tip of my manicured nail trace lightly down the boy's cheek, leaving a thin red line.
Damian froze. Not even a full second passed before he forced a smile onto his panicked face.
"Serena, don't misunderstand. This child... this child is..."
In the scramble for an answer, even the great and cunning CEO Ashford couldn't produce a plausible excuse.
Then something seemed to click. He thrust the boy toward me without hesitation.
"Serena, this is Edna's little nephew. She knows we can't have children of our own, so out of gratitude, she offered him to us—to raise as our son."
His voice steadied as he spoke, and he grew visibly pleased with himself for landing on such a convenient story.