What do you mean, my son? I've never had a son. As I tried to process the information, my gaze instinctively turned to the baby. He was there, looking at me with those big curious eyes, biting and drooling on the sleeve of his jumpsuit, completely oblivious to the bomb that had just been dropped on my life. But how could that be possible? The baby was months old, how could I not know that? My eyes met the lady's once more, searching for some answer, but all I found was a serious and determined look, as if she was waiting for a reaction from me. "Mr.

Xavier, would you like a glass of water?" - I heard the distant voice of Sofia, my secretary. I was probably whiter than a sheet of paper. I took a deep breath, trying to regain control of the situation. I was Lúcio Xavier, CEO of one of the largest companies in the country. I couldn't afford to lose my composure now. - This is a mistake - I managed to articulate, my voice sounding firmer than I felt. The lady shook her head slowly, as if she had been waiting for that answer. - It's not a mistake, Mr. Xavier. This is your son. His name is Miguel. A shock wave ran through my body, making my legs wobble slightly. I looked at Sofia, her red hair moving slightly in the air conditioning wind. I searched her eyes for silent support, but all I found was a look of bewilderment, reflecting my own confusion. The lady reached into her bag and took out a photo, which she held in front of me with a somber expression. In the picture, a stunning blonde girl beamed at the camera, wearing a bikini while holding bottles of champagne on a sunny beach. Shit. It was a scene I recognized all too well. "Do you remember her, Mr. Xavier?" the lady asked, her voice thick with bitterness. My eyes fixed on the photo for a moment before my mind connected the dots. Yes, I remembered her. She was one of the waitresses on the cruises I'd taken the year before. I'd slept with her. The sex had been awful, but she was incredibly beautiful. "Yes, I remember," I mumbled, a lump forming in my throat. The lady let out a heavy sigh and lowered the photo. "That was my daughter, Melissa." She hesitated for a moment before continuing, her voice cracking. "She died of an overdose a month ago." The realization hit me like a punch in the gut. "I'm so sorry," I think I mumbled something like that. - It was a mistake to have Melissa, and now it's too late to fix it. That's why I can't raise anyone else. This boy won't be my responsibility. Sofia, noticing the tension and discomfort in the room, acted instinctively. She approached me, delicately holding the jacket I was wearing and gently pulling me to the corner of the wall, away from the intense conversation with the lady. I felt the soft fabric of the jacket under the pressure of her hand, as she gently guided me, her touch transmitting a comforting sensation in the midst of the emotional chaos I was facing. Sofia stopped and looked at me with concern in her eyes. Her delicate freckles contrasted with her heavy gaze. - Sir... - she said in a whisper. - I don't know if this child is really yours, but this lady is not in a mental condition to take care of him right now, we need to call a social worker... I nodded slowly, recognizing the gravity of the situation. She was right. Together, we turned our gaze to the lady, ready to act. However, as soon as we turned around, we realized that the place where she had been standing was now empty. There was only the baby. CHAPTER 3 Sofia And then, like a gentle breeze, the baby who had been playing sweetly began to cry. I looked to Lucio for guidance, but his eyes reflected the same bewilderment that I felt. Neither of us knew what to do. Instinctively, I took a step forward, approaching the baby. He was there, wrapped in his baby carrier, his round, tear-stained eyes fixed on me, as if seeking comfort in the midst of the unknown. Carefully, I reached out, gently stroking his rosy cheek. His crying subsided a little, but it still persisted, an expression of vulnerability that broke my heart. "Lucio, what are we going to do?" I asked, my nerves already bursting, as I imagined his countless meetings being canceled due to his absence. Lucio seemed lost in his own thoughts, pacing in circles around the room. His expression was a mixture of anxiety and frustration, unable to find an answer to the unexpected situation we found ourselves in. Faced with the lack of clear direction, I made an impulsive decision. I lifted the baby from the baby carrier, holding him carefully in my arms. He continued to cry, his cries echoing throughout the room, but I couldn't leave him there alone, lost and scared. The baby's facial features, despite his young age, were surprisingly familiar. The eyes, the shape of his nose, even the curve of his lips... everything reminded me of Lucio in an almost supernatural way. A shiver ran down my spine as I observed the baby more closely, marveling at the disconcerting coincidence. Could it be possible that this baby was really Lucio's son? It was then that I noticed something that made me certain. For me, a DNA test was not necessary. On the back of the baby's neck was a reddish birthmark, almost in the shape of an apple. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the similarity of the mark to the one I knew Lucio had on his forearm. This child could only be his. "Lucio... look..." I whispered, my tone filled with surprise and admiration as I gently tilted the baby's head so he could see the mark. Lucio's eyes widened as he realized the similarity. He reached out to touch the mark on the back of the baby's neck, as if needing confirmation that he wasn't imagining it. "Oh my God..." he whispered. As the baby continued to cry in my arms, I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder. I turned to see Ligia, an older employee of the company approaching, her face conveying a mixture of concern and compassion. "Can I help you in any way?" she asked, her voice soft and comforting as she reached out to pick up the baby. Carefully, I handed him to her, watching with relief as she began to rock the baby gently and murmur comforting words in his ear. - Is he your nephew, Mr. Xavier? It's incredible how much he looks like you! Lúcio remained silent, not knowing what to say. Little by little, the baby's crying diminished, replaced by soft sighs and small sobs. - Sofia, come to my office - he murmured, turning his back on Lígia and his supposed son, while walking with firm steps towards his private space. CHAPTER 4 Lúcio I was sitting in my office, with Sofia in front of me. The tension hung in the air, heavy and palpable, as we both faced what seemed like a dead end. My hands were shaking slightly, a physical manifestation of the nervousness that consumed my thoughts. Sofia, in turn, was sitting across from me, clutching the ends of the pencil skirt she was wearing. Her face was a mask of concern, and I could feel the anxiety emanating from her. - Lúcio, what are we going to do? - she asked, her voice full of uncertainty. I swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to respond. The situation was too delicate, and I knew that every decision we made would have significant repercussions. "We need to keep this a secret, Sofia," I said, my voice firm