Diane's call comes at 7 AM, which is never a good sign.
"Cassian's team wants to settle."
I nearly drop my coffee. "What?"
"They reached out last night. Wanting to discuss terms before the trial date." Her voice is carefully neutral—the tone she uses when something doesn't add up. "I think you should hear what they're proposing."
Two hours later, I'm in her office staring at a document that makes no sense.
"They're not asking for custody," Diane explains, flipping through the pages. "No paternity rights. No visitation. They want an 'acknowledgment'—essentially a statement that you and Cassian had a 'complex relationship' that ended 'amicably.' Plus a sealed agreement that neither party will discuss the case publicly."
"That's it? After everything he's done?"
"That's what concerns me." Diane removes her glasses, rubs the bridge of her nose. "Cassian has spent two years and hundreds of thousands of dollars trying to destroy you. Now suddenly he wants to walk away with nothing but a vague statement and silence? Something's wrong."
I read through the terms again. The language is slippery—carefully constructed to imply wrongdoing without admitting any. "If I sign this, it looks like I'm hiding something. Like we reached some backroom deal because neither side wanted the truth to come out."
"Exactly. Which benefits him far more than you." Diane leans forward. "I took a meeting with Harold Brennan yesterday. Cassian's lead counsel."
"And?"
"He let something slip. Said they'd 'already reviewed preliminary information' about the DNA results and were 'confident in their position.'" She watches my face. "Selene, those results aren't released yet. They're not available to either party. The lab has them under seal until the court-ordered disclosure date."
My stomach drops. "Then how—"
"That's the question." Diane pulls out another document. "I made some calls. Discreetly. The testing laboratory had a data breach three weeks ago. Someone accessed digital records before they were encrypted. The lab claims nothing was compromised, but..."
"Cassian bribed someone."
"That's my theory. Someone at the clinic—a technician, an administrator, someone with access—gave him the results early." Her expression hardens. "He knows something we don't. He's been playing with information we don't have."
I think about the settlement offer. The suspicious terms. The sudden willingness to walk away.
"He knows he's not the father," I realize. "The results prove he has no genetic connection to the triplets. His entire lawsuit is about to collapse, and he knows it."
"Yes. But that's not what concerns me most."
"What does?"
Diane hesitates. "If Cassian accessed the full results, he knows more than just his own status. He knows the breakdown between Axel and Mateo. Which children belong to which father."
The words hit like ice water. Information we chose not to seek. Truth we deliberately avoided. And Cassian has it—has been holding it while we've been operating blind.
"He's not trying to win the lawsuit anymore," I say slowly. "He's positioning himself. Gathering ammunition for something else."
"That's my assessment." Diane gathers the settlement documents. "My recommendation: we reject the offer. We go to trial. We win publicly and definitively, so there's no ambiguity about what happened here."
"And the information he has?"
"We can't unlearn what he knows. But we can control the narrative. We can make sure the court record shows exactly who Cassian Drummond is and what he's done." She meets my eyes. "He's playing a longer game, Selene. We need to be ready for whatever comes after."
I drive home in a daze, the implications spiraling through my mind. Cassian knows. He's known for weeks, maybe longer. Every interaction, every legal maneuver, every threatening silence—he's been operating with cards we didn't know existed.
The whole time we've been fighting his lawsuit, preparing our defense, he's had the answer key. Watching us strategize. Knowing things about our family that we deliberately chose not to learn.
The violation of it makes me want to scream.
Axel and Mateo are in the living room when I arrive, Aria on Axel's lap while Mateo builds a block tower for Elio to destroy. Sören watches from his corner with that calculating expression, probably identifying structural weaknesses to exploit later.
Normal. Beautiful. Precarious.
"We need to talk," I say.
They look up, read something in my expression, and the playful energy drains from the room.
"What happened?" Axel asks.
I tell them everything. The settlement offer. Brennan's slip. The clinic breach. Cassian sitting on information we deliberately chose not to have.
"So he knows the breakdown," Mateo says quietly. "Which kids are mine, which are Axel's."
"He knows. And he's had that information while we've been fighting blind."
"Why hasn't he used it?" Axel's voice is tight. "If he wanted to hurt us, that's the weapon. Why hold back?"
"Because the lawsuit was his main play. He wanted custody, paternity rights, the legal claim to our children." I sink onto the couch between them. "Now that's collapsing. The DNA proves he's not the father. But the information about you two—that's his backup. His insurance policy."
"For what?"
"I don't know. Leverage. Blackmail. Some future attack we can't predict." I take both their hands. "Diane thinks we should reject the settlement. Go to trial. Win publicly so there's no question about what happened."
"And the information he has?" Mateo asks.
"We can't control that. We can only control how we respond." I look between them. "The trial will be brutal. Everything will be public—the cheating, the harassment, our relationship. But at the end, there's a court record that says Cassian is not the father and has no claim to our children."
"What about the breakdown?" Axel's jaw is tight. "If it comes out in court—"
"The DNA results will be entered into evidence. They'll show Cassian's non-paternity. But the specific breakdown between you two..." I pause. "That might become part of the record too."
Silence settles over us. The babies continue playing, oblivious to the weight of what we're discussing.
"I don't want to know," Mateo says finally. "Whatever those results say—I don't want to know which one is mine."
"Me either," Axel agrees.
"Then we stay in the dark. Together." I squeeze their hands. "We go to trial. We win. And whatever Cassian does with the information afterward—we deal with it as a family."
Mateo's laugh is hollow. "He's going to hold this over us forever, isn't he? Even after we win."
"Probably." I don't see the point in lying. "But he held power over me for years through shame and silence. I'm done being afraid of what he might do. I'm done letting him control us from the shadows."
Axel pulls me closer, his arm solid around my shoulders. Mateo's hand finds my knee, warm and grounding.
Cassian has the information. He's been playing games we didn't know were happening. He's got ammunition we can't take away.
But we have something he doesn't understand—a family that chose each other knowing the cost. Three people who decided that love matters more than biology, more than public opinion, more than whatever weapons he's stockpiling.
Whatever gambit he's running, we'll face it together.
That's the only play we've ever had.
And it's the only one that matters.