Victoria did not flinch.

She stopped in the doorway, her manicured fingers resting on her leather handbag.

“Emma,” she said, her voice like ice water. “I did not expect to find you in my son’s office.”

She looked down at Lucas, who was still holding the silver yacht model, and then at Noah.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, a brief flicker of calculation passing across her elegant face.

“And you brought guests,” she added.

Alexander stood up from his leather chair.

The papers in his hand rustled, the sound incredibly loud in the quiet room.

“Is it true?” he asked.

His voice was low, vibrating with a rage he was trying to control.

Victoria walked further into the room, ignoring me entirely.

“Is what true, Alexander? You should be preparing for the board meeting, not entertaining old distractions.”

Alexander threw the medical folder onto the polished mahogany desk.

It slid across the wood, stopping inches from her hand.

“The fertility reports, Mother. The DNA tests. The money you paid to the clinic seven years ago.”

Victoria looked down at the white documents.

She did not reach for them.