Chapter 1

I fled with my pregnancy for four years, never expecting to run into my foster brother Diego late one night at the pediatric emergency room.

I wore a mask. He didn't recognize me.

His gaze first fell on the child in my arms:

"How old?"

"Five," I lied.

He touched Jesse's throat with a cotton swab, then gently pressed his abdomen twice before turning back to his desk to write up the medical record.

Mycoplasma pneumonia. Nebulizer treatment and observation required.

Halfway through writing, his pen tip paused.

"Where's the child's father? Didn't he come with you?"

"He's dead!" I said.

His pen tip stopped on the medical record for three seconds.

"The detailed examination will take about two and a half hours."

He handed over the prescription, never once looking up at me again throughout the entire process.

I took the slip, and the moment I turned to leave the examination room with Jesse in my arms, the nurse's voice drifted over clearly from behind:

"Mr. Diego, your fiancée just called to say she wants to change the bouquet for the engagement party the day after tomorrow to white bellflowers."

Fiancée? Engagement party?

My arms suddenly tightened, pulling Jesse closer. I buried my head and hurried toward the end of the corridor.

The observation room had only one wall lamp lit, its warm yellow glow mingling with the smell of disinfectant.

After Jesse was hooked up to the nebulizer and given medication, his burning body finally cooled down, and he drifted off to sleep in a daze.

I sat on the hard plastic chair beside him, staring at the white mist dispersing from the nebulizer. Jesse clutched my finger in his sleep.

Who he resembled—anyone who'd seen them could tell at a glance.

His eyes, nose bridge, the curve of his lips—all carved from the same mold as Diego.

So for these four years, I never brought him anywhere we might run into Diego's family.

I kept this child hidden away completely.

At three-thirty in the morning, Jesse's temperature returned to normal.

I wrapped him tightly in his blanket, picked him up, and headed out.

Passing through the emergency corridor, the examination room door was ajar. Diego was still inside.

He leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed, as if taking a brief rest. A cup of coffee sat on his desk, with a photograph pressed beneath it.

I didn't see clearly who was in the photo, and I didn't want to. I quickened my pace and rushed out of the hospital entrance.

The next day, Jesse's fever was completely gone. His spirits much improved, he sat on the living room carpet assembling Legos.

I changed clothes preparing to leave when Raven's call came in:

"Miss Annie, the Thomas Group moved up the meeting. They want to see you at nine."

"Got it. I'm leaving now."

I drove to the company and changed into a tailored ash-gray suit and skirt. The person in the mirror bore no resemblance to the woman from last night at the hospital, frantically registering with a child in her arms.

Annie Smith, founder of Smith Medical Technology, with annual revenue of $230 million last year.

No one in the entire company knew I had a son, and even fewer knew I'd been raised for over a decade in the Thomas household, that I was once the person Diego cherished above all.

In the conference room, three representatives from the Thomas Group had arrived, led by a man in his forties.

"Miss Annie, we've heard so much about you. Our chairman places great importance on this collaboration and would like to meet with you personally the day after tomorrow."

"Your chairman—is that Kane Thomas?"

My hand holding the water glass didn't move an inch.

Kane Thomas. Diego's father, the helmsman of the Thomas Group, and the man who years ago had slapped a check in front of me and told me to get out of the Thomas family.

"Miss Annie?"

Director Mason looked at me. I set down my glass and uttered a single word:

"Fine. I'll be there."

That evening when I got home, Jesse had completely recovered, running around barefoot on the floor.

After his bath, he lay in bed hugging his little astronaut doll:

"Mommy, that doctor yesterday was so gentle."

My hand tucking in his blanket froze.

"Mommy, does he look like Daddy?"

"Go to sleep peacefully, Jesse."

I turned off the lamp.

In the darkness, his breathing quickly became steady and even. I sat by the bed for a long time without moving.

Does he look like him?

He IS his biological father.

The day after tomorrow, Thomas Group headquarters, the fifty-fourth floor of a CBD office building.

I wore a fitted black suit and skirt, my hair completely pinned up, full makeup applied—not to see anyone in particular, but as protocol for going into battle.

The elevator reached the fifty-fourth floor. The receptionist led me to a very large conference room. When the door opened, people were already seated inside.

Three people from Director Mason's side, a man who looked like legal counsel, and a woman in her late twenties with long hair and delicate makeup, wearing a beige tweed suit.

When she saw me, she stood up politely:

"Miss Annie, hello. I'm Eve, Chairman Thomas's assistant. Mr. Thomas had something come up at the last minute and asked me to receive you first."

Eve.

The name the nurse had mentioned that night. Diego's fiancée.

She didn't recognize me. We'd never met before.

I was Diego's completely buried past, the stain the Thomas family never spoke of.