Dr. Aris lowered the transducer, wiped the clear gel from Allison’s trembling abdomen, and tossed his paper towel into the trash can with a heavy sigh.
He turned toward the glowing blue monitor, his face dark, stern, and entirely devoid of the cheerful medical enthusiasm the Coleman family had expected.
Outside the glass doors of the private exam suite, David’s mother, his older sister Megan, his two brothers, and their spouses were practically pressing their noses against the glass.
They had brought luxury gift baskets, designer baby clothing made of pure silk, and expensive champagne to celebrate the arrival of the next male heir to the family commercial legacy.
David stepped forward, his heart hammering against his ribs, his hands trembling with an uncomfortable mix of pride and sudden, creeping anxiety.
“Doctor, please say something,” David demanded, his voice cracking slightly as he adjusted his expensive silk tie. “We booked this high-end private medical facility specifically for your expertise in high-risk pediatric care.”
“Is my son alright? Is there something wrong with his heart or his development?”
Dr. Aris slowly removed his surgical mask, folded his arms over his chest, and looked at David with a cold, analytical stare.
“Mr. Coleman, there is no issue with the baby’s heart or physical development,” the doctor stated flatly.
“In fact, the fetus is growing normally at twenty-two weeks.”
David let out a loud, dramatic sigh of relief, turning toward Allison with a wide, arrogant grin.
“See, Allison? I told you!” David bragged, pounding his chest. “A strong, healthy boy to carry on our family’s private business ventures and real estate holdings!”
“You didn’t let me finish, Mr. Coleman,” Dr. Aris interrupted, his voice dropping an octave, cutting through David’s arrogance like a sharp scalpel.
“First of all, the fetus is female, not male.”
The smile froze instantly on David’s face.
Outside the suite, Megan’s smug expression dissolved into complete, utter shock as she read the doctor’s mouth movements through the glass.
“A… a girl?” David stammered, shaking his head in total denial. “No, that’s impossible! The early private clinic blood panel we paid three thousand dollars for said it was a boy!”
“Early commercial blood panels can yield errors if performed by unaccredited third-party laboratories,” Dr. Aris explained calmly, pulling up a detailed medical chart on his high-definition display.
“Furthermore, Mr. Coleman, there is a far more critical issue documented in Miss Allison’s medical file that you need to be aware of.”
Allison’s face went completely ghost-white, her hands clutching the edges of the examination table so hard her manicured nails nearly turned blue.
“Doctor, please!” Allison gasped, her voice trembling with sheer panic. “We don’t need to discuss my private medical background in front of everyone! We can review the health insurance claims later!”
“No, Miss Allison, transparency is mandatory in this facility,” Dr. Aris replied firmly, clicking his computer mouse to display a certified DNA pathology ledger.
“Mr. Coleman, our records indicate that Miss Allison underwent a private fertility procedure and paternity verification test at our affiliate branch in Manhattan three weeks ago.”
“According to the certified court-admissible genetic testing report, you are definitively excluded as the biological father of this child.”
The air inside the room suddenly felt ice-cold, so thin that David could barely draw a breath into his lungs.
The walls seemed to shrink around him as the doctor’s words echoed violently in his ears.
“What… what did you just say?” David whispered, his hands dropping to his sides, his knees feeling like paper.
“The biological probability of your paternity is zero percent,” Dr. Aris said directly, without a shred of pity.
“The genetic profile matches a gentleman named Richard Sterling—the primary corporate asset manager of the high-yield investment firm where Miss Allison was formerly employed.”
Behind them, the heavy glass doors burst open as Megan and her mother stormed into the room, their expensive designer perfume filling the sterile air.
“What is going on here?!” Megan shrieked, clutching her gold luxury handbag against her hip. “David, why does the doctor look like someone died? Is the heir coming or not?!”
David didn’t answer his sister.
He slowly turned his head toward Allison, his eyes bloodshot, his face flushed with a terrifying, wild fury that made the woman shrink back against the hospital pillows.
“Who is Richard Sterling, Allison?” David growled, his voice deep, raspy, and dangerous. “Who is he?!”
👉 Click ‘Next Page’ below to read Part 3…
