Chapter 7: The DNA of a Lie
I drove fast.
The speedometer on the Aston Martin climbed past eighty as I tore up the winding road toward the cottage.
"Mommy, you are driving crazy," Leo whispered from the back seat. He was still clutching his stuffed tiger, his eyes red and puffy from crying.
"I am driving with purpose," I corrected, though my hands were white-knuckled on the leather steering wheel. "Dorian, call the jet. Tell the pilot to prep for takeoff."
Dorian sat in the passenger seat. He was not looking at his phone. He was looking at the side mirror.
"We cannot leave, Elara," Dorian said calmly.
"Watch me," I snapped. "He saw the eyes, Dorian. He heard the growl. Kael is not stupid. He knows Leo is his. If we stay, he will file for custody by sunset. He will lock down the bord
