Seven months after our divorce, I rushed into St. Jude’s Children’s and Women’s Hospital, still angry at my ex-wife, only to learn that she had just given birth to twin boys, and both of them were mine. Before the night was over, a nurse would place a brass key in my hand and tell me to use it before my own family arrived. And what was waiting for me beyond that was even more shocking.

My father’s composed expression didn’t waver for even a second.

“On what legal grounds are you postponing a scheduled vote?” he demanded smoothly.

“Pending a full internal investigation into proposed asset diversions and the deliberate falsification of corporate compliance records,” Margaret declared with authority.

My mother looked over at Marcus Vance with cold fury in her eyes.

This time, Marcus didn’t lower his gaze or look away.

My father turned his attention back to me, his tone full of quiet condescension.

“Your ex-wife has cleverly manipulated your emotions once again, Alexander,” my father said smoothly.