POV: Xavier
The DNA report was a single sheet of paper. It felt heavier than the grey metal box, heavier than the entire hotel. The 99.8% figure was a stark, black-and-white guillotine blade. Xavier held it, along with the linen page of Addendum X, in a simple manila folder. No briefcase. No lawyers. This was not a corporate negotiation. This was a reckoning.
He walked into the Hale Grand, the morning light streaming through the vaulted lobby. Staff nodded, guests milled, and the magnificent machine hummed on, oblivious to the seismic fault about to rupture beneath its foundation. He took the private elevator to the penthouse executive suite. He didn’t request entry. He used his key, the quiet click of the lock feeling like the c*****g of a gun.
His father was at his desk, not working,
