Chapter 5: The Little Knight

Clutching the sleek titanium pen Eva had left in his breast pocket, Dominic Vance felt the phantom weight of her lingering jasmine scent burn straight through his bespoke suit fabric.

The following morning, driven by a volatile mix of corporate desperation and an insatiable craving to breach her hidden defenses, the billionaire rode the private high-speed elevator directly up to Eva’s ultra-exclusive luxury hotel suite in the heart of the Jardins district.

He raised his heavy hand and delivered three sharp, commanding raps against the reinforced mahogany door, fully prepared to shatter whatever psychological games his former wife was attempting to play with his empire.

The heavy door clicked open with a soft, pneumatic hiss, but instead of the cold, razor-sharp gaze of the French fragrance empress, Dominic found himself staring down at a miniature version of his own reflection.

Standing right on the threshold with an impeccably tailored mini-suit and an expression of profound, chilling boredom was a four-year-old boy possessing the exact same piercing sapphire-blue eyes.

"If you are here to offer another pathetic corporate buyout or cry about your failing profit margins, Mr. Vance, my mother is currently unavailable for charity cases," Dante announced in fluent, articulate English, his voice dripping with aristocratic condescension that defied his tender age.

Dominic’s breath hitched violently in his throat, his massive frame freezing instantly as he stared down at the child with a disorienting, suffocating wave of vertigo.

"Who taught you to speak to adults like that, little man, and where is the adult actually responsible for your supervision?" Dominic demanded, his deep voice tightening with a sudden, unexplainable surge of protective irritation.

"My supervision is entirely adequate, thank you very much, though I must question the intelligence of a CEO who knocks on doors uninvited like an unsophisticated bill collector," Dante replied smoothly, tilting his head with a razor-sharp smirk that mirrored Eva's signature expression with terrifying accuracy.

Before Dominic could process the sheer audacity radiating from a child half his size, Dante picked up a porcelain cup of scalding double espresso from the entryway table with calculated calm.

"Allow me to welcome you properly to our suite, Mr. Vance, since your social skills appear to be severely lacking this morning," the boy murmured with angelic innocence.

With a lightning-fast flick of his small wrists, Dante deliberately "accidentally" tipped the cup forward, splashing dark, boiling espresso all across Dominic’s custom gray Savile Row suit trousers.

"Oops, how clumsy of me, but I am certain a billionaire of your immense stature can easily afford a dry-cleaning bill," Dante smiled sweetly, wishing him a very productive corporate day before turning to walk away.

Dominic hissed in sharp pain as the intense heat soaked through his wool fabric, his legendary patience snapping entirely as he reached down and hoisted the boy up by his armpits.

"You little demon, you did that completely on purpose," Dominic growled, holding the child suspended in the air while his face flushed with incandescent fury.

Dante did not flinch, nor did his sapphire eyes widen with fear as he stared directly into the raging ocean of his father's furious gaze. Instead, as the collar of the boy's mini-shirt shifted slightly upward during the struggle, Dominic’s breath caught violently in his chest and his entire world stopped spinning on its axis.

Right there on the pale, flawless skin at the back of the boy's neck was a distinct, rare patch of contact dermatitis—a genetic skin marker that only the true-born heirs of the Vance bloodline carried.

Dominic had that exact same allergic rash mapped onto his own flesh, a closely guarded biological secret passed down through generations that could never be faked, bought, or forged.

"Put me down immediately, Mr. Vance, before my mother returns and decides to sue you for assault," Dante commanded coldly, his voice devoid of any childish tremor or hesitation.

Dominic slowly lowered the boy back to the polished marble floor, his massive hands trembling violently as the brutal, undeniable truth crashed down upon his shattered sanity. He locked eyes with Dante's chilling sapphire gaze, a terrifying revelation echoing in his mind as he realized this genius child was his own flesh and blood.

Without breaking eye contact with the mini-predator standing before him, Dominic fumbled for his encrypted smartphone with shaking fingers and dialed a familiar, heavily guarded number.

"Dr. Bruno, I need you on the first private flight to São Paulo with a complete DNA extraction kit within the hour," Dominic ordered hoarsely, his voice cracking with a desperate, unhinged hope that threatened to tear his remaining soul apart.