Lucien's POV,
"So let me get this straight." Mireya narrows her eyes. "You bought a whole kindergarten, so you'd get closer to this boy?"
"He's getting weirder as the days go by," Adrian comments, and I purse my lips, then hand her the flier.
"I have a good feeling about this one," I say, ignoring them, and she takes the flier with a frown.
"Hunch?" Adrian shakes his head and gestures to Niklaus. "He's gone crazy."
"A spelling bee?" Mireya snorts after reading what the flier said. "He's four or five."
"Five." Niklaus grunts, and she glares at him. He shrugs. "What I don't understand is if he's your son, who's the mother, and why has she hidden him from you all these years?"
"Is that your concern?" Adrian snorts. "I'm just over here wondering what happened to using protection when having sex?"
"Protection is so overrated." Mireya rolls her eyes, then goes to sit on the swiveling chair. "So, what's the plan?"
"He placed a tracker on it," Niklaus explained. "He'd use it to find the boy's mother."
"Then, what?"
"Then, you'll tell the students in their class that you want to teach them about the human body," I say. "Call him out and have him spit into this vial."
I give her a vial, and she groans. "They're five years old. Don't you think the teachers would find it suspicious?"
"Not when you're paying them to shut up." I purse my lips, and she hisses.
"You owe me big time."
"I know," I grunt, standing up. "Your own personal penthouse. Away from all of us."
She grins. "Good. Now, out. All of you. I have school business to attend to."
~ ~
"It's the same lady," I say, and Adrian whistles.
"Damn, she's hot."
"That's not the mother." I say, then ignite the engine of the car as the black-haired woman starts hers.
"We look like losers." He groans as I slowly tail them. "Why don't we just approach them?"
"This is more fun." I snark, and his eyes twitch.
"You wouldn't know fun if it smacked you in the face."
"Ouch, Adrian."
The black car stops at an apartment, and the boy runs out of the car, excitedly. The apartment building is one of those high-tech and high-security types, so the mother is probably well-to-do.
"So, are you going to buy this building too?" He snarks, and I toss him a pair of sunglasses.
"If it comes to it," I wear mine. "Yes."
We get down and follow them inside the elevator. We look like normal civilians with out ordinary polo shirts and shorts. Adrian pretends to yell at someone on his phone while I stare at mine. In the elevator, the boy is whining,
"Aunt Camille, I'm hungry!" He drawls, and the lady groans.
"We're in the damned building. You'd get your pie soon."
The boy laughs softly, "You said a bad word."
"Your mother's first word was a bad word." She winks at the boy, and he laughs. Adrian chuckles. I elbow him. The elevator pings, and they step out. We follow.
The pair stops at a door, and I drag Adrian to the stairs above. We pause and peep.
"We look like idiots." Adrian whisper-yells, and I shush him. The boy jumps up and down on his toes, while the woman searches her bag for something. She brings out the key card, but before she can swipe, a lady in a hair bonnet, glasses, and a baggy shirt comes out.
"Mummy! Mummy!" The boy jumps on her, and she kisses his forehead. "Aunt Camille said your first word was a bad word!"
The black-haired woman gasped, "And now I need to teach you what happens to snitches!"
The boy squeals and runs inside. The mother, whose face I hadn't yet seen, stood to talk to the woman. At that moment, I received a message from Mireya.
"I hoped you'd be wrong." The message read. "But he is actually your son. Should congratulations be in order?"
My whole world comes crashing down as I read the message over and over. Mireya isn't one to pull a prank, so even if the message didn't come with an attachment of proof, I know she isn't lying.
"If he really is your son," Adrian whispers beside me. "And he already has a father, what would you do?"
Before I can reply, the mother throws her head back in a groan and turns for just a second before continuing her conversation. My heart stops beating. I know that woman.
The woman who asked me if I had a wife. The snarky, arrogant, and challenging woman. Elara Solis…
I remember our conversation that rainy evening.
~ ~"My husband's dead," She said. "Been dead for five years."
And so, I reply to Adrian. "He doesn't have a father."