"The biotric match is almost perfect. Sa height, sa bone structure," A man dressed in all black said, his voice steady but cautious.
Natasha leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. "Almost perfect?" she asked confused.
"There’s a slight difference in the jawline, but it’s negligible. No one would notice unless they were looking for it."
She nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. "And where is she now?"
"In Russia," he replied. "But she’s dead. Heart failure. Her family is preparing to bury her in two weeks, after the autopsy."
She tapped her nails lightly against the armrest of her chair, her gaze fixed on him. "Dead." A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "That makes it easier."
The man looked a bit confused himself. "What do you an?"
She tilted her head slightly. "Fool! I must explain everything!" She continued. "We’ll take the body. Bring her here and then, we’ll make the switch."
He blinked, clearly confused. "The switch? How do we—"
"Don’t make repeat myself," she interrupted, her voice sharp. "You’ll make it happen. Get the body, transport it here, and handle the paperwork. I don’t care how you do it."
He nodded quickly, though his unease was obvious. "And the other one? What about her?"
Her eyes didn’t blink for a sec. "We’ll create an accident. A car crash. It needs to look real—sothing believable. Make sure she’s badly injured, enough to hit her head and lose her mory. But she has to survive."
The man hesitated, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. "And after the accident?"
She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a dangerous calm. "She’ll be taken care of. Drugs, injections—whatever it takes to make sure she doesn’t rember anything. She won’t know who she is, where she’s from, or what happened to her."
He nodded slowly, his hands fidgeting at his sides. "And the body? The one from Russia?"
"It will be brought here and buried in her place," she said simply. "No one will question it. No one will suspect a thing."
The man nodded again, his face pale. "Understood."
She stood, brushing her hands against her skirt as if dusting off the conversation. "Good. Make it happen. And make sure it’s done right. I don’t want any mistakes."
He gave a small nod, then turned and left the room without another word.
As the door clicked shut behind him, she walked to the window, staring out at the city below. A faint smirk played on her lips as she imagined the chaos to co. Soon, everything would fall into place. Soon, she’d have what she wanted.
##########
Nathan sat on the couch, distracted by his phone, while Leo played with a set of toy cars on the floor. The sound of the little wheels rolling across the tiles filled the room.
"Daddy, look!" Leo called, holding up one of the cars proudly.
Nathan glanced up, forcing a small smile. "That’s great, buddy."
Leo grinned, but before he could say anything else, his face suddenly went pale. His little hands dropped the toy, and he swayed unsteadily on his feet.
"Leo?" Nathan said, his voice sharp with concern.
Leo’s knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor.
"Leo!" Nathan was on his feet in an instant, rushing to his son’s side. He scooped him up, his heart pounding as he gently shook him. "Leo, wake up! Hey, buddy, wake up!"
But Leo didn’t respond. His small body was limp in Nathan’s arms.
Nathan didn’t waste a second. He grabbed his phone and barked orders into it. "Get the car ready! Now!"
The Saints Hospital
The tires screeched as Nathan’s car ca to a halt outside the ergency entrance. He didn’t wait for the driver to open the door—he pushed it open himself, carrying Leo in his arms.
"Help!" he shouted as he burst through the doors. "Soone help !"
A nurse rushed forward, her face calm but alert. "What happened?"
"He just collapsed," Nathan said, his voice tight with panic. "He fainted, and he won’t wake up."
"Follow ," the nurse said, leading him down a hallway. A team of doctors quickly surrounded Leo, taking him from Nathan’s arms and placing him on a gurney.
"Sir, we’ll take it from here," one of the doctors said.
Nathan tried to follow, but a nurse gently stopped him. "You’ll need to wait here. We’ll let you know as soon as we have an update."
Nathan stood frozen for a mont, his hands clenched into fists. Then he nodded reluctantly, stepping back as they wheeled Leo into another room.
Few minutes later
Nathan paced the hospital hallway, his mind racing. His hand reached for his phone in his pocket, and he pulled it out, his hands were shaking.
He dialed Fiona’s number, bringing the phone to his ear.
The line rang once rang countless tis but she never answered.
He hung up and imdiately tried again. Still nothing.
"Damn it, Fiona," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He shoved the phone back into his pocket.
Just then, the door to the ergency room swung open, and a doctor stepped out. Nathan rushed forward, his heart in his throat.
"How is he?" he demanded.
The doctor gave him a reassuring nod. "He’s stable for now, but he’s going to need a blood transfusion. We need to act quickly."
Nathan didn’t hesitate. "Take mine. I’ll donate."
The doctor nodded. "We’ll need to run a quick test to see if you’re a match. A nurse will take you to the lab."
#######
Nathan sat in the sterile lab room, his sleeve rolled up as a nurse drew a sample of his blood.
"How long will this take?" he asked impatiently.
"Not long," the nurse said, her tone calm. "We’ll have the results in a few minutes."
Nathan nodded, tapping his foot anxiously as he stared at the clock on the wall. Every second felt like an eternity. Finally the nurse returned, holding a clipboard. Her expression was hesitant, almost apologetic.
"Mr. Keith," she began carefully. "I’m afraid you’re not a match."
Nathan frowned, confused. "What do you an? I’m his father."
The nurse hesitated, clearly unsure how to proceed. "Your blood type is incompatible with his. Biologically, you’re not his father."
Nathan stared at her, the words not registering at first. "That’s impossible," he said slowly. "Run the test again."
"We double-checked," the nurse said gently. "I’m sorry, sir."
Nathan stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Where’s the doctor?"
"They’re already arranging for a donor," the nurse said. "Leo will be fine, I assure you."
But Nathan wasn’t listening anymore. He stord out of the lab, his mind was spinning.
An hour later
Nathan was back in the hallway, pacing furiously, when Natasha walked in. She looked alard, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on him.
"What happened?" she asked, rushing toward him.
Nathan turned to her, his expression was dark but she didn’t notice. "Leo fainted. He needed blood, and I offered to donate. But guess what?" He took a step closer, his voice rising. "I’m not a match. The hospital says I’m not his father."
Natasha froze, her face unreadable.
"Well?" Nathan demanded. "Do you have sothing to say?"
She hesitated for a mont, then folded her arms. "Does it matter?"
Nathan blinked, stunned. "What?"
"Does it matter?" she repeated, her tone calm but defiant. "You’ve been his father all this ti. You’ve loved him, cared for him. Why does it matter now?"
Nathan’s jaw tightened. "It matters because you lied to ."
Natasha’s voice sharpened. "You’ve been so busy sulking after Fiona that you didn’t even notice your own son. Maybe if you’d paid more attention—"
"Don’t," Nathan cut her off, his voice low and dangerous. "Don’t you dare try to turn this around on ."
Natasha opened her mouth to respond, but he didn’t wait to hear it.
"I’m done," he said, turning on his heel and walking away.
"Nathan!" she called after him, but he didn’t stop.
Nathan climbed into his car, slamming the door shut.
"Where to, sir?" the driver asked hesitantly.
Nathan pulled out his phone, dialing his pilot.
"Prepare the jet," he said curtly.
"Yes, sir. Where are we flying?"
Nathan stared out the window, his jaw clenched. "The usual place."
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