The Billionaire's Secret Triplets

Chapter 4: The Perfect Perjury

The summons to the Knight Estate was not a request; it was an ultimatum delivered through the hospital's administration. But as Sophia stood in her bedroom, looking at the black Rolls-Royce waiting at the curb, she felt a cold sense of clarity.

She knew Alexander. He was a man who trusted data more than his own intuition. If he saw something that looked like his bloodline, he wouldn't stop until he had a laboratory confirmation.

"Mrs. Higgins," Sophia said, her voice low and steady. "Take the children to the basement playroom. Lock the internal door. If a man named Marcus arrives, he will likely claim to be a maintenance worker or an insurance adjuster. Let him in. Do not stop him from looking around."

"But Dr. Chen—" the nanny started, worried.

"Do exactly as I say," Sophia interrupted, handing her a hairbrush. It wasn't Sam’s brush. It was a sample she had taken from the hospital’s pediatric waste bin two days ago—hair from a local child with similar pigmentation. She had carefully planted a few strands in Sam’s actual pillowcase and on the bristles of a decoy brush in the bathroom.

She was a surgeon. She knew exactly how much biological material was needed for a PCR test. She also knew that the most convincing lie was the one that was found, not the one that was given.

By the time the driver opened the door at the Knight Estate, Sophia was a mask of professional indifference. The estate loomed over the coastline like a stone titan, cold and impenetrable.

"Dr. Chen. You’re late," Alexander said, standing at the top of the grand staircase. He looked down at her, his silver eyes searching for any sign of the panic he expected to see.

"Traffic and childcare arrangements don't yield to your schedule, Mr. Knight," Sophia replied, walking past him toward the medical wing without waiting for an invitation. "I’m here to treat Thomas, not to socialize."

Inside the recovery suite, Thomas was sitting up, reading a financial journal. His recovery was remarkable, but the atmosphere in the room was suffocating. Alexander followed her inside, leaning against the doorframe, his gaze never leaving her back as she checked Thomas’s reflexes.

"You have a very specific way of holding the ophthalmoscope," Alexander remarked suddenly. "Your left pinky finger curls inward. It’s a trait of someone who was trained in a high-pressure environment early in their career. Perhaps in a rural clinic where equipment was scarce?"

Sophia didn't flinch. "It’s a trait of someone who has a minor ligament injury from a childhood accident, Mr. Knight. Not everything is a clue in your grand mystery."

"Is that so?" Alexander stepped closer, the scent of his cologne—sandalwood and frozen rain—filling her senses. "Because Marcus just informed me that your house was visited by an inspector today. A routine check for the hospital’s insurance."

Sophia turned to face him, her eyes meeting his silver ones with a defiance that surprised him. "I’m aware. I hope he found everything to his satisfaction. I have nothing to hide."

"We’ll see," Alexander whispered, his voice dangerously low. "Because I’m not just looking for a doctor, Sophia. I’m looking for a ghost. And ghosts usually leave a trail of DNA behind."

For three hours, Sophia endured the interrogation disguised as a medical consultation. Alexander poked at her past, her education in London, and the 'father' of her children. She answered each question with the same practiced lie, her heart beating a steady, rhythmic cadence. She had to be perfect. One slip, one tremor in her voice, and the triplets' safety would vanish.

When she finally left the estate, her back was damp with sweat under her lab coat. She drove home in a daze, her mind racing. Had she planted enough? Was the hair sample too obvious?

The moment she entered her safe house, Mrs. Higgins met her at the door. "He was here, Doctor. A man in a suit. He took a few strands from the bathroom and a toothbrush. He thought I didn't see him."

Sophia let out a long, shaky breath. "Good. Let him run the test."

Thirty miles away, in the high-security lab of Knight Enterprises, Alexander stood behind a glass partition. Marcus was standing next to a technician who was inputting data into a sequencing machine.

"I managed to get hair follicles and a saliva sample from a toothbrush in the master bathroom's secondary sink," Marcus reported. "If the boy is yours, this will confirm it within the hour."

Alexander didn't speak. He watched the progress bar on the screen. For the first time in five years, he felt a flicker of something resembling hope—or was it rage? The idea that Sophia had been alive, that she had carried his child while he mourned her, made his blood boil.

The machine chimed.

"Results are in, sir," the technician said, his brow furrowing.

Alexander stepped forward. "Read it."

"The DNA profile... it’s a 0.0% match, Mr. Knight. There is no biological relation between the donor and the reference sample you provided."

The silence in the lab was absolute.

"Check it again," Alexander growled, his hand gripping the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles turned white.

"We ran the sequence twice, sir. The paternal markers are completely different. The child from whom this hair was taken is not yours. In fact, based on the markers, the child is of a completely different ethnic sub-group than your lineage."

Alexander felt as if he had been struck in the chest. The conviction that had been burning in his mind for the last 48 hours—the certainty that Sam was his son—shattered into a thousand pieces.

"Impossible," Alexander hissed. "I saw his eyes. I saw his face. It was like looking into a mirror."

"Sir, human biology can produce striking coincidences," Marcus said softly, though he looked equally surprised. "Perhaps Dr. Chen was telling the truth. Perhaps she really did just find a partner who shares your features."

Alexander turned and walked out of the lab, his footsteps echoing like gunshots in the sterile hallway. He felt a rare, agonizing sensation: doubt. Was he losing his mind? Was his grief finally manifesting as a delusion? He had been so sure.

He got into his car and stared at the steering wheel. He remembered the way Sophia had looked at him in the estate—the cold, clinical gaze of a stranger. If she was the woman he knew, she would have been terrified or angry. But she was... indifferent.

"Drive," Alexander commanded.

"Where to, sir?"

"The hospital. I want to see Dr. Chen's original surgical notes from today. If the DNA says no, I’ll find the answer in her hands."

He was a hunter who had just lost the scent, but Alexander Knight didn't stop because the trail went cold. He simply started looking for a different kind of blood.

Back in the safe house, Sophia tucked the triplets into bed. Sam was finally sleeping soundly, his fever gone. She sat in the dark living room, her phone illuminating her face. She had won this round, but she knew the DNA result would only buy her time.

Alexander was now a wounded animal, and a wounded animal was twice as dangerous. He would doubt himself for a day, maybe two. Then, his obsession would return, sharper and more focused.

She looked at the map on the table. She needed more than fake hair for the next phase. She needed a living, breathing distraction. She needed a 'husband' to arrive in North City.