Chapter 73 He Will Never Be Your Father

Chapter 73 He Will Never Be Your Father
“You don’t need to look for him. Let him find you,” Christian replied, his voice soft but heavy.
“Are you sure he’ll find me?”
Christian nodded. “Of course,” he said. “He’ll come to you at the right time.”
“What if I don’t want him anymore?” the boy asked again, his voice innocent.
This time Christian fell silent for a long moment before speaking. “That’s alright. He deserves that. You only need to grow up happy.” He looked at him with quiet pain, forcing himself to accept the rejection from both his wife and his son.
His sharp eyes kept flicking toward the bedroom door, wary that Ariana might suddenly appear and pull Lucas away from him.
“If only I hadn’t forbidden Ariana from getting pregnant, I wouldn’t hesitate to tell you that I am your father, Lucas,” he thought bitterly. It’s alright. “This is only a matter of time.” His resolve hardened again, his expression darkening.
“I’ll take both of you back to London,” he added, his voice low and firm. A vision of a happy life with Sophia flickered through his mind. “I won’t let you find out about your grandfather’s murder, so we’ll never be separated again.”
In front of him, Lucas nodded slowly, admiration shining clearly in his gray eyes.
“I’m very lucky to know you, Uncle,” he said, then hugged Christian’s leg.
Unbeknownst to Christian, Ariana had witnessed the warm moment. She was already standing at the doorway.
“What is he doing to my son?” her eyes widened, her heart jolting at the sight before her.
The natural closeness between father and son sent a chill through her entire body. The disgust and hatred she had buried for so long surged violently back to the surface.
“Stay away from my son!” Ariana shouted, grabbing Lucas by the shoulder and pulling him behind her, her movements protective.
“Mom,” Lucas called softly, looking up at her.
“Go to your room right now!” she snapped, her body trembling.
Her breath came in heated bursts. Her clouded blue eyes locked onto Christian as if he were a criminal.
“Why are you still in my house? Leave. Now, Mr. Matheus,” Ariana ordered, her voice shaking with emotion.
Christian looked at her steadily, but the hatred in her gaze still burned fiercely for him. “There’s still a storm outside. Lorne can’t even get through the snow to pick me up. Let me stay until it passes,” he pleaded. “After that, I’ll leave.”
“I don’t care,” she replied coldly. “Leave my house immediately.”
“Mom, no! Please let him stay,” Lucas ran back to Ariana and tugged at the hem of her clothes. “It’s very dangerous outside. Please let him stay here for the night.”
Ariana hesitated. “Are you sure? He’s a stranger, Lucas,” she said, her voice uncertain.
“Yes, please.”
Lucas’s pleading eyes, along with Christian’s pale face, made Ariana grit her teeth.
“Only until the snowstorm stops. After that, he leaves immediately.”
Inside the bedroom, the atmosphere felt warm. Lucas’s simple bed had to be shared with Toby, who was already fast asleep, while Bonnie snored softly on the old couch in the corner.
Ariana lay down beside Lucas. She gently stroked his forehead and kissed it again and again.
“Mom,” Lucas murmured, half asleep. “I don’t care who my real father is. What matters is that you’ll always be with me.”
Ariana gave a bitter smile, tears nearly slipping down her cheeks. “Of course, sweetheart. I’ll always be with you.”
“But Mom,” Lucas mumbled, his eyes closed, a faint smile on his lips, “if my father can be replaced, can we replace him with uncle?”
The question froze Ariana in place. “No. He will never be your father.”
After making sure her son had fallen asleep, she stepped out of the room. Her mind was in turmoil. She wanted to go to her own room, but as she crossed the dim living area, a pair of strong arms suddenly wrapped around her chest from behind.
“I love you, Ariana,” Christian whispered hoarsely.

Meanwhile, behind cold iron bars, David sat restlessly.
A guard approached and said, “You have a visitor.”
The news instantly brightened his face. He was certain his father had come to get him out.
“Daddy, why did you take so long,” he began, then stopped short.
“At last, we meet again, David.” The flat voice wiped the smile from his face.
“You? Why are you here? No, I don’t want to see them!” David froze when he saw Lorne sitting with Sean behind the glass partition. Then he shouted loudly until the guard forced him back into his seat.
“You don’t seem pleased to see us. Even though no one else can get you out of here, David,” Lorne said calmly. “Except Mr. Matheus.”
David slammed his fist against the wooden table, his face flushed with anger. “Bastard! How dare he make me suffer in a place like this,” he snarled.
“Even in Scotland, Mr. Matheus has already sealed every legal route for you,” Sean added coldly. “Your identity fraud case is an undeniable fact.”
David let out a bitter laugh. “No wonder so many businessmen end up depressed facing that devil. Christian really wants to destroy me.”
Lorne leaned forward slightly, staring at David without expression. “We have an offer. Take all evidence of Marley Matheus’s murder from your father and destroy it.” His voice grew more serious. “Make sure Ariana never finds out about it. Ever.”
“What?” David shouted, his voice echoing through the quiet visiting room. “No. I will not destroy that evidence.”
The refusal made Lorne smile faintly. He stood, adjusting his neat suit.
“This visit is over.” After saying that, his cold eyes fixed on David. “You can change your mind at any time. Mr. Matheus is still giving you time to think. Think carefully before it’s too late,” he added before turning and leaving, while David shouted incoherently behind him.
When it was time to shower, David was escorted to the communal area. His head was still burning from Lorne’s threat. Then his steps halted when he realized the place was unusually quiet, except for a group of large inmates already waiting for him.
“Move. It’s my turn,” David said, trying to walk past them, but every step he took was blocked.
They surrounded him, cutting off his only way out. One of them, a man with a large tattoo on his neck, stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.
“We were paid to beat you until you can’t stand,” the man said, his voice deep and nasal.
David stepped back, his back hitting the cold tiled wall. “Who sent you? Was it Christian Matheus?”
The tattooed man grinned widely. “Yeah. He’s our boss. He said we should shut your mouth too.”