“Look at the date on the adoption decree,” Mr. Hayes said, his voice cutting through the hum of the overhead projector.

I leaned forward, my hands pressing hard against the cold mahogany of the boardroom table.

“The adoption was finalized exactly two days before the grand trust deadline,” I said.

Nathan did not move a muscle.

He stared at the screen as if looking at a ghost.

“My mother,” Nathan whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “She wasn’t my biological mother. And Richard…”

He turned slowly to the older man, his eyes bright with a sudden, painful realization.

“You aren’t my biological father,” Nathan said.

Richard kept his eyes fixed on the rain washing down the high windows of the skyscraper.

His jaw was set so tightly that a muscle twitched repeatedly in his cheek.

“It was necessary,” Richard said, his voice flat and dry. “The survival of the Whitmore Group required continuity.”

“You adopted me to steal her inheritance,” Nathan said, taking a step toward him.

“I gave you a life,” Richard snapped, finally turning his head to glare at his son. “I gave you a name, a billion-dollar company, and a future most men only dream of.”