Chapter 20 Strings of Obligation.
Chloe’s POV.
The elevator doors slid shut behind me, sealing me in the polished marble confines of the penthouse lobby. My hand closed around the burner phone as Voss’s message was glowing starkly on the screen: Jet leaves in three hours. The door is open for the offer.
The temptation to walk out into the night and never look back was a living pulse in my veins, but I did not move and not yet. Whatever game Kim and Margaret were playing, fleeing now would leave Liam and every leverage point I had entirely in their hands.
I pulled up Olivia’s contact and typed a single and precise message. "Investigate the clinic where Kim claims the paternity test was conducted. Every detail of the chain of custody, sample processing, personnel, ownership and everything.
I rode the elevator back up to the penthouse. Liam had not moved from the living room. He stood rooted in place, staring at the unopened envelope on the glass coffee table as if it contained a live grenade. The supposed paternity results, a ninety-nine point nine percent match, lay inside, a declaration of irreversible obligation.
“I am not walking away,” I said flatly to myself. “But I need every detail about that test. Now.”
I went back inside the house just to still meet him wallowing in his thoughts.
He turned; his expression was a mixture of exhaustion and simmering fury. “It was done at her private clinic. She insisted on it, saying she was too fragile for travel. They took samples from both of us and processed them on-site. No third-party lab and no independent observers. The results came back within hours.”
“No chain of custody,” I said. “No verification that the samples were yours or hers. You have no proof that the test means anything.”
“She refuses further testing,” he replied, his voice edged with frustration. “Claims any additional procedures, non-invasive or otherwise, risk the pregnancy. Her doctor backs her up.”
“Then we find a way to force independent verification,” I said. He shook his head. “She holds all the cards right now. Until we can disprove the results, she can dictate terms.”
The following morning, Kim arrived at Astor Industries without warning. She entered the executive floor flanked by a silver-haired lawyer in a bespoke suit and a personal physician carrying a leather medical satchel. She wore a loose silk blouse and wide-legged trousers, her hand resting protectively on the gentle swell of her abdomen.
The entourage swept into Liam’s office and I followed, closing the door behind them.
Her lawyer placed a thick legal binder on the desk. “Ms. Fred requires the establishment of a dedicated trust fund in the amount of twenty-five million dollars.
This fund will be used exclusively for prenatal care, medical expenses and future child support. Administration of all funds will be vested solely in representatives designated by Ms. Fred.”
Liam’s eyes narrowed. “She wants to control twenty-five million dollars of my money without allowing a single independent test to confirm paternity.”
The lawyer did not flinch. “Ms. Fred is willing to submit to noninvasive prenatal paternity testing, provided the trust fund is fully funded and placed in escrow as a demonstration of good faith.”
Kim spoke for the first time, her voice soft but resolute. “I am carrying an Astor heir. This is not about personal gain. It is about ensuring the child’s security.”
Liam’s response was immediate and unequivocal. He authorized the deposit of five million dollars into a monitored escrow account, subject to strict disbursement protocols, but refused to release the full amount without independently verified proof of paternity.
Kim’s entourage departed without agreement, leaving behind the clear implication that further resistance would escalate the conflict.
Later that same afternoon, Kim returned alone.
She stood in the doorway of Liam’s office, pale and composed and made her next demand. “My physician has advised that I relocate to a more supportive living environment.
The isolation of my current residence is exacerbating my condition. I require access to the townhouse adjacent to this penthouse. It is fully staffed and equipped to provide the constant care that is medically necessary.”
He refused to grant her request. Liam’s refusal was immediate. “That is my private residence.”
Her attorney, arriving moments later with a sheaf of documents, countered by producing a clause from the agreement signed during the rushed paternity test: provisions for “reasonable accommodations for bed rest and maternal health.”
The language was broad enough to create a credible legal basis for her demand. Kim did not press the issue further that day, but the implication hung in the air. She would occupy the space next to his, whether by agreement or enforced concession.
Over the course of the following week, Kim’s influence expanded methodically. She began making frequent, unannounced visits to Astor Industries, arriving without appointment and demanding Liam’s immediate attention for what she described as critical health decisions.
Margaret lent her weight to these intrusions through carefully placed intermediaries, issuing statements that the preservation of the family lineage took precedence over personal disputes.
Several junior board members, previously uninvolved, began contacting Liam privately. They argued that prolonged resistance risked alienating investors who viewed familial stability as a cornerstone of Astor corporate governance.
I managed the logistics of her visits, scheduling conference rooms, coordinating security clearances and reviewing the mounting invoices for private nursing staff, daily specialist consultations and bespoke medical accommodations.
Each expenditure was another strand in the web she was weaving around him. The erotic tension that had defined our interactions became fractured and intermittent.
A heated encounter against the locked door of Liam’s office, his hands shoving my skirt to my waist and taking me with punishing intensity, would be interrupted by a call from Kim’s physician demanding his presence at yet another appointment.
The interruptions left us both raw, unresolved and increasingly isolated within the storm of her demands.
During this period, Olivia delivered preliminary findings. The clinic where the paternity test had been conducted was partially owned through an offshore entity with clear financial ties to Margaret’s personal holdings. Billing records showed unusually accelerated processing times and a lack of standard third-party validation protocols.
However, no definitive evidence of sample substitution or tampering could be conclusively established. The information was suggestive but insufficient to dismantle the results publicly.
I maintained discreet contact with Lucy Astor, who expressed mounting alarm at the situation. “Margaret’s condition makes her unpredictable,” she confided during a brief, encrypted call.
“She believes she is protecting the family, but Kim is exploiting every fracture. We must be cautious; exposing the dementia now would only lend credence to claims of institutional instability.”
At the end of the week, as I reviewed the latest batch of expense reports, private ambulance transports, a rotating cadre of on-call obstetric specialists and custom-fitted medical furniture, Liam’s phone rang with an urgent call from Kim’s physician.
Kim had suffered what was described as a severe episode of preterm labor. She was being admitted for extended bed rest, but she refused to remain in the hospital.
Her condition, the doctor asserted, required a controlled residential environment where stress could be minimized.
Kim’s demand was explicit and Liam was to relocate to the adjacent townhouse to personally oversee her care. Only his physical presence, she insisted, would sufficiently mitigate the factors precipitating her symptoms.
Before Liam could respond, my burner vibrated with a secure message from Olivia. Attached was a leaked internal memorandum from Kim’s public relations firm.
The document laid out a comprehensive media strategy, including the scheduled release of the paternity test results, set to execute the following morning, regardless of Liam’s compliance with her current demands.
The memo’s stated objective was unequivocal: to establish the pregnancy as a publicly accepted fact and compel Liam to formally acknowledge paternity before any opportunity for further verification could arise.
I placed the document in front of him. He read it in silence, the color draining from his face.
The carefully orchestrated escalation was laid bare and every concession he granted, financial, logistical, or personal, merely bought a temporary reprieve from the next demand.
Refusal, however, would trigger a meticulously prepared public campaign that would present her claims as indisputable truth.
The reality settled over the room like a tightening noose. Kim’s strategy had transformed a single, unverified test result into a mechanism of absolute control and blackmail.
To challenge her publicly required dismantling the results without access to further testing. To accommodate her demands was to surrender the boundaries of his personal life, allowing her to embed herself permanently within its most intimate confines.
Liam stared at the memo, his hands clenched into fists. Kim’s physician called again, repeating her ultimatum and adding that he needs to comply quickly to avoid any future complications.
The adjacent townhouse is mere steps from the penthouse he shared with me, waiting to become her stronghold.
There was no clear path forward that did not require yielding ground, either to her physical presence or to the narrative she was prepared to unleash upon the world.