My Coworker Tried To Sabotage My Son’s Asthma Inhaler — Then The Billionaire We Were Interviewing Demanded A DNA Test
Part 1
I clutched my chest as I watched my little boy gasp for air on the cold studio floor.
I was preparing to interview the city’s most elusive tech billionaire when my jealous coworker shoved my five-year-old son, triggering a severe asthma attack.
Five years ago, a spiked drink at a corporate event at the Grand Azure Hotel completely upended my reality.
Waking up the next morning in a strange, lavish hotel suite, absolutely no memory remained of the man who had shared that bed.
A positive pregnancy test soon arrived to shatter my world into a million pieces.
Navigating the terrifying journey of motherhood eventually fell entirely on my shoulders after that blurry one-night stand.
Being a single mother meant working relentlessly as an investigative reporter at our local broadcasting network.
Tyler became my entire world and the absolute center of my universe.
Doing absolutely everything together was our only way of life.
Sleep, a social life, and any semblance of relaxation were instantly sacrificed just to make sure he had everything he needed.
Bringing him to my work assignments happened often whenever my emergency childcare inevitably fell through.
That particular morning, I was handed the most important, career-defining interview of my entire journalism career.
Craig, the notoriously reclusive billionaire behind a massive global tech empire, had surprisingly requested me by name to conduct his live feature.
My senior coworker Brenda absolutely hated my guts for getting the assignment over her.
She cornered me in the bustling lobby before the camera crews even started setting up the heavy lighting equipment.
Brenda arrogantly claimed she was secretly engaged to Craig.
She insisted I was trying to use my feminine wiles to seduce him and climb the corporate ladder at her expense.
I ignored her toxic venom.
My focus was purely on securing the exclusive story and keeping my demanding job so I could continue providing for Tyler.
Tyler sat quietly in the guest green room playing with a little plastic superhero toy.
He wore his favorite little collared shirt just to look professional for my big day at work.
Brenda stormed into the private room flanked by two of the network’s burly security guards.
She pointed a manicured finger at us and called my sweet child a little thief.
She demanded his pockets be searched immediately for allegedly stolen network property.
I stepped firmly between the aggressive guards and my terrified child.
I grabbed Brenda’s wrist to push her back away from my vulnerable son.
She yanked her arm back and slapped me incredibly hard across the left cheek.
The sharp sting radiated across my face.
Tyler panicked upon seeing me get hurt and bravely tried to pull her away from my side.
Brenda scoffed and shoved him aggressively against the heavy wooden door frame.
His small chest immediately started heaving in a terrifying, rhythmic spasm.
I knew the terrifying, life-threatening signs of his severe asthma attacks all too well.
I reached frantically for my oversized leather tote bag to retrieve his emergency rescue inhaler.
Brenda maliciously snatched my purse from the glass coffee table before my shaking fingers could even graze the dark leather.
She held the bag high in the air, just out of my desperate reach, with a cruel and mocking smirk plastered across her face.
Tyler collapsed onto the carpeted floor.
He wheezed heavily as his face turned a terrifying, ashen shade of pale.
He clutched his small throat as he fought for every single agonizing breath.
I fell to the floor and begged her to give me the medicine before it was too late.
She casually crossed her arms and told me to get on my knees.
She demanded I apologize for trying to steal her supposed fiancé in front of the entire security staff.
The heavy green room door suddenly burst open with a deafening crash.
Craig stood in the doorway with an unreadable, dangerously dark expression.
His tailored suit jacket was unbuttoned, and his jaw was clenched tight enough to shatter teeth.
He looked at Brenda with absolute, unadulterated disgust.
He marched across the room and snatched the leather bag from her grip with a swift, unforgiving motion.
He tossed the heavy purse directly into my trembling, desperate hands.
I ripped the zipper open and administered the life-saving medicine directly into my struggling son’s mouth.
Tyler inhaled deeply and slowly caught his breath as the warm color finally returned to his pale cheeks.
Craig turned around and calmly threatened to cancel his exclusive interview unless the network fired Brenda on the spot.
He ordered his personal, highly-trained security detail to immediately escort her out of the room.
He warned her that if she ever came near me or my son again, he would ruin her life.
I held Tyler incredibly close to my chest while my heart pounded violently against my aching ribs.
I looked up with tear-filled eyes to thank the imposing man who had just saved us from an unthinkable tragedy.
Craig stepped closer and stared intently down at my little boy.
He tilted his head slightly to the side as if he was studying a complex, previously unsolvable puzzle.
Tyler looked back up at him with innocent, wide-eyed curiosity.
Their eyes locked in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the quiet studio room.
They had the exact same striking, impossibly bright blue eyes.
Craig turned his intense, searching gaze toward me.
He asked for my full name and demanded to see my son’s complete medical files immediately.
He demanded a genetic test right there in the studio, and that’s when I realized my little boy’s father was the man who could buy and sell our entire city.
