Park Avenue Secrets: Marriage, Manhattan Style

“He’s not your natural-born son.”

Reed coughed out a hollow, disgusted laugh. “You’re worried about his pedigree? You’re worried that he will somehow detract from … what? Their inheritance? Will his bad breeding somehow rub off on them?”

Anton’s eyes turned to flints and he put his infamous intimidation mask in place. But it wasn’t about to work on Reed.

“I’m adopting Lucas,” Reed said firmly. “He’ll have every legal right of any other child I may or may not have in the future.”

The mask slipped. “He’d be your eldest son. The Wellington heir.”

“Yeah,” said Reed. “How about that.”