The days following the DNA confirmation blurred into a tense, exhausting rhythm. Every morning I woke to the same quiet ritual, Dario preparing my cardamom espresso at the marble counter, but the warmth of the gesture now carried an undercurrent of complexity. He was going to be a father. With Isabella Rossi. The reality settled over our penthouse like a persistent fog, coloring even the smallest interactions.
I spent the first full day after the results mostly in silence, working from the home office on the Singapore logistics models. The numbers provided a welcome distraction, but my mind kept drifting to the ultrasound image and the blurred night Dario had described. A spiked drink at a charity auction six months ago. It sounded like something from a thriller, not the life we were tryi
