Chapter 9 - The Dossier on the Altar
The secretary broke the crimson wax seal with an audible snap and handed the crisp vellum files directly to Althea.
"What is that?" Christian asked, his voice shaking, sweat now beading openly along his hairline. "Althea, whatever games you are playing, stop. If those are my children, let me hold them. Let me see them! I have a right—"
"You forfeited your rights the night you moved your pregnant mistress into our penthouse and allowed your father to hand me an eviction notice," Althea cut him off, her tone razor-sharp. "You told me that Vanessa represented the future of your family because she could provide what I supposedly never could: heirs."
Vanessa lunged forward, her veil tearing against the jeweled bodice of her gown. "Guard! Take those papers from her! She's forging documents! She wants to extort us! Don Roman, don't let her speak!"
"Let her speak!" Don Roman thundered, slamming his cane against the marble with such violent force that the sound cracked through the cathedral like a gunshot. The patriarch’s face was purple with rising blood pressure. "Hand me the files, Althea."
"Not to you, Don Roman," Althea replied, bypassing the old man entirely.
She walked past the altar rail, past the terrified officiating bishop, and set the documents down directly upon the heavy communion table, right in front of the live-feed camera that was broadcasting the Montecillo wedding to international financial networks across Zurich, London, and New York.
"These are certified genetic analyses conducted by the International Forensic Institute in Geneva," Althea announced, looking straight into the camera lens. "Every document bears the cryptographic verification of three independent laboratories."
She opened the first tab.
"Alexander, Julian, Cedric, and Seraphina Montecillo. Biological parents: Althea Valerius and Christian Montecillo. Probability of paternity: ninety-nine point nine-nine percent."
Christian let out a jagged, broken breath, tears finally spilling over his lashes. "Four... I have four children..."
"You had four children," Althea corrected him mercilessly. "Until you abandoned them before they drew their first breath. But that is merely page one."
May you like
Althea turned the heavy vellum page, her dark eyes flashing toward Vanessa, who had suddenly frozen, her skin turning an ashen, sickly grey.
"Let us examine page two," Althea whispered. "The genetic report of the three infants currently resting beside the altar. The miraculous Montecillo triplets."
