Her perfect pregnancy collapsed in seconds when the silicone belly slipped beneath her silk dress. But the real terror began when a quiet boy pointed to the camera above—and exposed a secret far darker than a fake heir.

"Do it, Christian," Julian whispered, his eyes locked onto Christian’s with burning urgency. "Put your hand on the glass."

Christian took a slow, agonizing breath. He turned to the pedestal, looking down at the cold, green-lit biometric interface. The glass was chilled, glowing with laser grids designed to read deep dermal veins, bone density, and real-time DNA sequencing.

"Smart boy," Eleanora breathed, stepping closer, her fingers twitching with anticipation. "Do not pull away until the tone chimes."

Christian placed his right palm firmly onto the glass.

Instantly, a bright blue laser line swept from his fingertips to his wrist. The console emitted a sharp, mechanical ping.

*BIOMETRIC CONFIRMED: SUBJECT A-1 — CHRISTIAN VANCE STERLING.*

*ASSET SHARE: 50% UNLOCKED. AWAITING SECONDARY LINEAGE CONFIRMATION.*

"Julian. Now," Eleanora commanded, grabbing the boy by his shoulder and shoving him toward the second terminal. "Put your hand on the plate!"

Julian did not resist. He walked to the second pedestal, placed his small palm onto the glass, and looked directly through the observation window at the dying man in the hospital bed.

The blue laser swept across Julian's hand.

*BIOMETRIC SCANNED: SUBJECT A-4.*

*PROCESSING...*

*GENETIC MATCH FAILURE.*

The console flashed violently in crimson red. An alarm began to wail through the subterranean bunker, its harsh, deafening klaxon echoing off the concrete walls.

Eleanora froze, the blood draining completely from her face. "What? What did you do?!"

She lunged toward the console, her eyes wild with panic. "Override! Authorization: Vance-Omega-Zero!"

*OVERRIDE DENIED,* the synthesized voice rang out through the speakers. *GENETIC SEQUENCE REJECTED. PALM SKIN CONTAINS EPIDERMAL SYNTHETIC SHIELDING.*

Julian stepped back, lifting his hand. The thin layer of silicone film he had peeled from Clara’s discarded prosthetic belly in New York fell away, revealing the raw, bleeding skin beneath.

"You told Christian that Clara used an off-the-shelf fake belly," Julian said, his voice rising above the blaring sirens. "You were wrong. Clara’s silicone womb wasn't bought in a costume shop. It was manufactured here, in your own laboratory, using synthetic dermal tissue that scrambles biological scanners. I lined my palm with it before we boarded the plane."

"Kill him!" Eleanora screamed at the guards, her voice fracturing into a demonic shriek. "Kill both of them!"