Sterling’s hidden heir

Chapter 3: The cold hard truth

The drive to the clinic was suffocating. Bluebell Creek was supposed to be my sanctuary, a place of wood-smoke air and quiet mornings, but inside Ethan’s SUV, it felt like a cage of leather and expensive silence.

I kept my gaze fixed out the window, watching the familiar sights of the town square blur past. The hardware store, the florist, the town clock—everything looked different now that the wolf was in the fold.

"You’re shaking," Ethan said. It wasn't an observation; it was an accusation.

I pulled my hand away from Leo’s hair and tucked it into the pocket of my cardigan, lifting my chin. "It’s cold in here, Ethan. Some of us don't live in climate-controlled bubbles."

He didn't argue. He just reached over and adjusted the dial, his large hand brushing near my knee. I pulled back as if burned.

"I’m not going to bite, Sierra," he muttered, his jaw tight. "I just want the truth."

"The truth is that you’re trespassing on a life you walked away from," I shot back. My voice was low so Leo wouldn't hear, but it was sharp. I wasn't that nineteen-year-old girl who cried when he left anymore. I had raised a child alone. I had built a business with flour and grit. He didn't scare me—not completely.

We pulled up to a private medical wing on the outskirts of town. It was the kind of place that didn't have a waiting room for the public. A nurse was already standing at the door, looking professional and entirely too briefed on who Ethan Sterling was.

"This way, Mr. Sterling," she said, nodding to us.

Inside, the air smelled of antiseptic and power. I gripped Leo’s hand.

"Mommy, why are we at the doctor? I’m not sick," Leo said, his small voice echoing in the sterile hallway.

I knelt down, ignoring Ethan who was standing over us like a dark shadow. "I know, baby. The... businessman just needs to check something for his records. It’s just a quick swab, like a lollipop but for your cheek. Okay? Then we’ll go get cocoa at the diner."

Leo looked at Ethan, then back at me. "Okay. If you say so."

The process was fast. Too fast. The nurse took the samples with practiced efficiency. Ethan stood by the window, his back to us, looking out at the Vermont woods as if he were calculating the value of the lumber.

Once the nurse left with the vials, the room felt smaller.

"The results will be ready in four hours," Ethan said, turning around. "I paid for the express panel."

"Of course you did," I said, leaning against the exam table. "Because waiting like a normal person is beneath you."

He walked toward me, stopping just a foot away. He was intentionally using his height to try and make me feel small, but I didn't move. I stared right back into those silver eyes.

"Normal people don't find out they have a son five years late, Sierra. Why didn't you call? I gave you my number. I gave you everything."

"You gave me a cold bed and a 'goodbye' note on the nightstand, Ethan," I hissed, the old anger bubbling up. "You told me you weren't a man who did 'forever.' So I took you at your word. I didn't call because I didn't want my son to be an 'inconvenience' in your schedule."

His eyes flashed with something—guilt? Anger? It disappeared before I could name it.

"He is a Sterling," Ethan said, his voice dropping an octave. "He is never an inconvenience. He is a priority."

"He is a boy," I corrected him, stepping into his space. "He likes dinosaurs and blueberry muffins and sleeping with the light on. He is not a 'Sterling' or an 'asset' or a piece of your empire. If that test comes back positive, don't think for one second you can just buy him. I don't care how many zeros are in your bank account."

Ethan looked down at me, his gaze lingering on my lips for a second too long before snapping back to my eyes. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth—the first real one I'd seen.

"You've grown claws, Sierra. I like them."

"Then you’re going to love them when I use them to keep you away from my son," I snapped.

"Our son," he corrected.

He checked his watch. "We have four hours. I’m hungry. And I believe you promised the boy cocoa."

"I promised him cocoa. I didn't invite you."

"I’m the one with the car, Sierra. And in case you forgot, I still own the building your bakery sits in." He opened the door, gesturing for me to lead the way. "Let's go. I want to see what kind of life you’ve been living while I was looking for you."

I walked past him, making sure my shoulder brushed his chest just to show him I wasn't intimidated. I was terrified of what those results would do to our lives, but I wasn't going to let him see me sweat.

The cozy streets of Bluebell Creek were waiting, but as we walked out, the first flake of snow began to fall. Winter was coming, and Ethan Sterling was the storm.