Three

Gabriel

I drove through the city with a sense of urgency I couldn’t quite justify. Every turn, every traffic light, every invisible metronome ticking away the time seemed to mock my impatience. Isabela. Miguel. The child she was so desperately trying to protect.

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Five years. Five damn years since she disappeared, taking with her any chance of answers. And now, out of nowhere, she shows up… with a son. A boy who, by my calculations, could be mine.

As soon as I parked in front of my building, I stepped out of the car with determined strides, ignoring the curious glances from the security guards. I headed straight to my office, the morning light beginning to bathe the city. The soft hues of pink and gold seemed to mock the storm brewing inside me.

Elena was at her desk, sorting papers, but she straightened up as soon as she saw me. “Mr. Castellano, is everything okay…?”

“Cancel all my appointments for today,” I snapped, not slowing down. “And bring me the complete file on Isabela Duarte. I want it on my desk in ten minutes.”

She hesitated for a second, but my expression made her comply without question. As soon as I entered my office, I closed the door and took a deep breath. But there wasn’t enough air to calm the confusion and anger tangled in my mind.

Sitting at my desk, I opened the file Elena had brought. Everything was there: addresses, employment records, old contracts. Each piece of information painted a fragmented picture of Isabela’s life over the past few years, but nothing answered the burning question inside me.

The evidence was clear—a woman who had vanished and rebuilt herself alone. A son who seemed to have been raised far from any suspicion. His age matched perfectly with the time Isabela disappeared from my life. But it wasn’t enough. I needed more than assumptions. I needed certainty.

I picked up my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t used in years. When Dr. Valenti’s voice answered, as direct and professional as ever, my decision was already made.

“I need a paternity test, Valenti. Discreet and quick.”

He didn’t question it, simply confirmed that he would handle everything. That gave me a momentary sense of satisfaction, but the weight of what I was doing lingered. If Miguel was my son, what had Isabela been thinking to hide this from me? And if he wasn’t? What would that mean for her future?

While waiting for the document to be delivered to Isabela, my mind wandered back to the moment I saw her on the sidewalk the night before. She looked different, perhaps more mature, but still carried that defiant gaze. I had always admired that about her, but now it infuriated me. Because that same defiance had kept me away from what might be most important.

The intercom buzzed, pulling me back to the present. Elena announced that the courier had delivered the request to Isabela. Now, the ball was in her court. But waiting was never my strong suit. Something about this situation made me feel like I needed to stay one step ahead.

I drummed my fingers on the desk, trying to process. This wasn’t just about me. If Miguel was my son, I needed to understand what that meant for him. What did he know? Did he even know my name? And if he wasn’t mine… why did Isabela seem so scared? She knew how much I could change everything.

Hours later, my phone vibrated. A message from Dr. Valenti confirmed that the test was ready to be conducted as soon as the samples were collected. I considered my next move. Isabela could refuse, but I wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer.

“Elena,” I called through the intercom. “Schedule a meeting with my lawyers for this afternoon. I want to explore every legal option.”

“Yes, sir. Anything else?”

I thought for a moment. “No. That’s all.”

I turned off the intercom and leaned back in my chair, my eyes fixed on the window overlooking the city. This wasn’t just about Miguel. It was about Isabela. She wasn’t just any woman. She was my past, a past I had let slip away, and now she seemed to have returned to challenge it.

What did she think was going to happen? That I would simply accept being left out? No. If Miguel was my son, I would be part of his life, whether she liked it or not.

As night fell, I found myself back at the starting point: Miguel. The questions spun in my mind like an endless cycle. I didn’t know exactly what I felt. Was it anger? Frustration? Or perhaps an uncomfortable fear that, somehow, I wasn’t prepared for this new reality.

My phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from Elena confirming that Isabela had received the document. The relief I had expected to feel didn’t come. Instead, I felt more impatient than ever. If she refused, it would only give me more reason to act.

I stood up, shrugging my jacket back over my shoulders. There was a limit to how long I could wait without doing anything. Waiting had never been my strength, and with something this important, it wouldn’t be different.

As I left the office, a single thought echoed in my mind, something I couldn’t ignore: If Miguel is my son, I will never again be absent from his life.