The conference room on the top floor of the Alden Group Tower was a study in aggressive minimalism: glass, chrome, and a view that stretched over the entire city—a panorama Elias Thorne knew intimately. He sat alone at the massive polished obsidian table, his bespoke suit looking out of place against the backdrop of his rival's empire.
Elias wasn't fooled by the sleek setup. This was Rhys Alden's territory, and Kaelen had placed him here for one reason: to feel contained and powerless. Rhys himself was visible through the sheer frosted glass of the adjoining waiting room, a silent, unmoving guardian. It was a calculated insult, and it only fueled Elias's cold resolve.
When the door opened, Kaelen didn't walk in; she swept in, radiating a controlled power Elias had never seen in her before. Gone was the gentle, sensitive Omega he'd heartbroken. This Kaelen was armored, sharp, and entirely focused.
She placed a digital timer on the table between them and set it for exactly fifty-nine minutes.
"I believe you know the terms, Elias," Kaelen began, her voice devoid of warmth, echoing slightly in the vast room. "One hour. No discussion of the past. No apologies. We discuss only the immediate logistics of our coexistence."
Elias ignored the timer. He ignored the terms. His eyes devoured her face, taking in the faint lines of fatigue around her eyes and the fierce, protective set of her jaw.
"You didn't tell me I had sons, Kaelen," he said, his voice dropping to the low, dangerous register he used when closing billion-dollar deals. He leaned forward, pushing his advantage. "Five years. You kept my blood from me."
Kaelen flinched—a tiny, imperceptible movement—but recovered instantly. She picked up the printed agenda sheet she had brought and tapped it pointedly.
"We are not discussing the past. The topic is 'Logistical Management of Coexistence.' If you derail this, the meeting ends, and my legal team takes over."
Elias sighed, a sound of theatrical frustration. He knew he couldn't push the twins immediately. Kaelen had the high ground for now. He settled back in his chair, adopting a veneer of professional civility.
"Fine. Logistics," Elias conceded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Let's start with the inevitable. Paternity."
Kaelen placed a hand over the timer. "You may seek a court order for a DNA test. However, that will open both our lives to public scrutiny. I advise against it."
"Why?" Elias challenged, a predatory smile touching his lips. "Afraid the paternity will confirm what we both know, and threaten Rhys's cozy arrangement?"
That struck a nerve. Kaelen's composure wavered.
"Rhys is their father, Elias. In every way that matters. He was there for every late-night fever, every milestone, every damn holiday you were too busy building your pathetic empire to care about." She paused, dragging a breath back into her lungs. "If you pursue legal action, you will be fighting two parents, Elias. Not one heartbroken Omega."
Elias watched her defend the lie, and he found a sliver of leverage. He knew Kaelen's deepest fear was subjecting the twins to a public legal war.
"I won't subject my sons to a legal war," Elias stated, projecting sincerity. "I am offering you a private resolution. I want supervised, scheduled visits. Twice a week. I will forgo the DNA test, on the condition that I am the sole person you permit to supervise those visits. No nannies. No Rhys. Just me and them."
Kaelen stared at him, aghast. It was a brilliant, manipulative move. By waiving the DNA test—the very thing she feared—he was forcing himself into a position of intimacy with the children, directly undermining the bond they shared with Rhys.
"No," she said immediately. "Absolutely not. Rhys is the only one who supervises their interactions with strangers."
Elias leaned across the table, his eyes full of years of suppressed emotion. "You can call me a stranger all you want, Kaelen, but they are my children. And if you force me to stand outside that perimeter, I will feel forced to prove my claim through official channels."
He tapped the table once, right next to the timer.
"This is my only demand for a private, quiet resolution. Twice a week. No Rhys. You want peace? You must confront the future with me, Kaelen, not hide behind the past you built with him."
The timer beeped, marking the first ten minutes. Kaelen's breathing was shallow, her careful fortress finally breached. She hated him for this impossible choice. Elias had just given her a taste of the aggressive dominance he was capable of, and it was terrifying.
"I need to discuss this with my partner," Kaelen managed, rising swiftly.
Elias didn't stand. He simply watched her, his victorious smile thin and cruel. "Fifty minutes left, Kaelen. Choose wisely. Your choice determines whether we are rivals or co-parents."
She bolted for the door, desperate to escape the intense gravitational pull of his presence. She met Rhys outside the room, grasping his hand for grounding.
"What did he say?" Rhys demanded, his face tight with concern.
Kaelen swallowed, the lie tasting like bitter medicine. "He wants to be involved. He says he'll waive the DNA test if I let him have supervised visits."
"Supervised by whom?" Rhys asked instantly.
Kaelen avoided his gaze. "By him. Alone."