The penthouse master suite lay in near darkness, save for the city lights glittering through floor‑to‑ceiling windows. Lucian stood at the edge of the marble balcony, cufflink unclasped, eyes tracing the constellation of Shanghai skyscrapers. In his hand he held the thin silver clasp of Milo's seashell necklace—the one Lynn had woven with care for her son's first birthday.
He turned back inside, voice low in the hush. “Gao."
The aide appeared at the far door, crisp and attentive.
“Arrange a private request at the Imperial Genetics Lab. Covert paternity test: Milo's hair against my DNA." Lucian's tone was steady, but a tremor threaded through it. “Discreetly. Tonight."
Gao inclined his head. “At once."
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Before dawn, Lucian slipped out in a tailored charcoal coat. The geneticist's c
