Mia snuggled against him.

"He's such a joke. Three seconds and he's done. And every dime he makes goes toward buying formula for our son anyway."

I stared at the screen, my temples throbbing. It felt like the blood vessels in my eyes were about to burst.

The video kept rolling.

Mia suddenly climbed off Andy's lap, pulled open the TV stand drawer, and took out a folder.

The folder with our marriage documents.

"Come here."

She opened it. Our marriage certificate was inside, with a wedding photo tucked behind it. She pulled out the photo, laid it on the coffee table, and turned it until my face was staring up at them.

Then she lifted her chin, eyes shining with excitement and pure malice.

"Do it on his face. Cover him completely."

Andy threw his head back laughing.

"You're mean."

Then he did it.

Without a second thought.

Right in front of the camera.

Right in front of me.

The disgusting mess was smeared all over my face in the photo.

Mia laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. "Now that's what you should look like! Hahaha!"

My phone creaked in my grip, almost cracking.

I wanted to book the first flight home and beat those two pieces of trash into the ground.

But I didn't.

I took a deep breath, opened the recording settings, cranked the resolution to the highest quality, and switched the recording time to unlimited.

***

Over the next three days, more guests showed up.

Ryan came first.

His leg was still wrapped in bandages. The pain-transfer device had left him with a fracture, and he hadn't fully recovered. Even so, he never missed a chance to mess around with my wife.

"Mia, do you really think his salary can support you? Be with me, and I'll take care of you for the rest of your life."

Next came Luke.

He lay on my bed with Mia while drinking from the mug on my nightstand that read, [I Love My Wife.]

"Your husband's built like a stick. He could train for a hundred years and still wouldn't be half the man I am."

Three men.

Three days.

One after another.

Each one was more arrogant than the last.

Each scene more disgusting than the one before.

I exported every video, compressed and encrypted them, then saved copies to three separate hard drives.

After that, I created a new folder.

Its name was simple.

Death Row.

***

When I got back from the business trip, Mia rushed over with her usual bright smile.

"Honey, you've lost weight! That trip must've been exhausting."

I patted her head.

"It was fine. Somebody has to make the money."

I pulled the wrinkled travel allowance from my pocket and set it on the coffee table.

Right beside the folder holding our marriage documents.

Mia's eyes flickered for a split second before returning to normal.

"Oh, right."

I sat down casually.

"Noah's almost a month old. How about we throw him a baby welcome party?"

Mia looked away.

"I mean, we could. But parties like that cost money..."

"Don't worry. I ran the numbers. If we invite everyone, the gifts should cover most of it."

"Everyone?"

Her eyes lit up.

"Friends, family, coworkers. A big party."

"Then we need to book somewhere nice!"

I smiled. "I'll take care of it."

Over the next few days, I used three different phone numbers to message Andy, Ryan, and Luke.

The wording changed slightly each time, but the meaning stayed the same.

[Come to Noah's welcome party. We need to talk about Noah.]

The message was vague, but the implication was obvious.

None of them refused.

They couldn't.

Because every one of them believed Noah was his son.

At the same time, I spent two thousand dollars and used a hospital contact to get biological samples from all three men.

Andy's blood sample from his hospital stay.

A cigarette butt Ryan had left in my living room.

A drinking glass Luke had used.

The three samples, along with Noah's hair, were sent to three separate testing labs.

I had one done for myself too, even though I already knew what it would say.

On the day of Noah's welcome party, I rented a ballroom at an upscale hotel.

The place was packed.

Mia stood at the front holding Noah in her arms. She wore a brand-new red dress, her makeup flawless, her smile bright and polished.

"Thank you all for coming to celebrate our baby boy."

Both our families were there, along with friends and coworkers.

Marlene greeted guests with a proud smile.

Across the room, three men sat in three different corners.

Andy occupied a reserved table near the entrance, checking his phone every few seconds.

Ryan sat several rows back, his leg still wrapped in bandages.

Luke stayed near the rear corner, his hat pulled low like he didn't want anyone recognizing him.

I walked onto the stage and took the microphone from Mia.

"Today is my son's welcome party, and there are a few things I'd like to say."

The room fell silent.

I cleared my throat.

"First, I'd like to thank my wife. Carrying a baby for nine months isn't easy—"

Before I could finish, the ballroom doors swung open.

A courier in a reflective vest walked straight inside.

"Which one of you is Elroy Edelstein? I have a rush delivery."

Every head turned toward me.

I set down the microphone, signed for the package, and took the envelope.

Marlene frowned. "On a day like this, what could possibly be so urgent?"

I ignored her.

Right in front of everyone, I tore open the envelope.

A certified report slid into my hand.

Official letterhead.

Official seal.

Across the top, in bold letters:

[DNA Paternity Test Report]

The ballroom went dead silent.

I picked up the report and read into the microphone.

"Client: Elroy Edelstein. Subjects: Elroy Edelstein and Noah Edelstein, infant. Conclusion—"

I paused.

My voice stayed calm.

"Probability of biological paternity: 0%. Biological relationship excluded."

The room exploded.

Relatives stared at one another before breaking into frantic whispers.

Marlene's wine glass slipped from her hand and shattered across the floor.

Mia's smile froze.

Her lips trembled. "H-Honey... Wh-What are you talking about...?"

I didn't even look at her.

Instead, I swept my gaze across the crowd and stopped on three men.

"Andy."

Andy froze, phone still in hand.

"Ryan."

Ryan's face instantly drained of color.

"Luke."

Sweat appeared beneath Luke's hat.

"Gentlemen, please come up here."

My voice echoed through the speakers.

The ballroom erupted again.

Under the gaze of hundreds of guests, the three men reluctantly made their way onto the stage.

Andy forced a smile.

"Elroy, what are you doing? Let's not make a scene—"

I cut him off.

Reaching into my bag, I pulled out three manila envelopes and tossed them onto the table in front of them.

"One for each of you."

I smiled.

"These are your paternity test results with this child."

My smile widened.

"Since all of you seem convinced he's your son, go ahead and open them. Let's find out who the real father is."

Mia nearly collapsed.

The three men exchanged looks.

Then they lunged for the envelopes like starving dogs fighting over the last steak.

Andy finished reading first.

His face went from red to white.

Ryan was next.

His hands started shaking.

Luke finished last.

He flipped through the report three separate times.

Three reports.

Three results.

Black and white.

0%.

0%.

0%.

The three men stood frozen onstage like statues.

Meanwhile, the whispers of hundreds of guests merged into a deafening roar.

I gripped the microphone.

Staring at those three numbers.

My pupils narrowed.

Something was wrong.

All three were 0%?

Not a single match?

I'd assumed at least one of them was Noah's father.

So who the hell was?