Chapter Thirty-Two: The Face of Truth
Chapter Thirty-Two: The Face of Truth
ABEL DONOVAN
I pushed myself up from the chair, every movement heavy with irritation, and strode out of the boardroom.
“What are we going to do, sir?” my secretary asked, hurrying behind me.
I froze mid-step, glancing around before shutting my eyes. My fingers pinched the bridge of my nose. A long, tired sigh slipped out.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say this was all part of Anna’s plot. A revenge scheme. But revenge… for what?
She was the one who sinned against us, not the other way around. If anyone had the right to be vindictive, it was me. Hadn’t nearly ruining me with her scandal five years ago been enough? Was she back to finish what she started, to destroy me completely? And for what reason?
How did she even worm her way into the Serranos and climb so high? And she already has a child.
Hermione.
Her face flashed in my mind, too familiar, too haunting. She looks so much like…
“No,” I growled, shaking my head hard, forcing it away.
And now they call her the daughter of Gloria Serrano. Not Alex’s fling like I once believed. How? She is a Whitmore. She was my ex-wife. She was a Donovan.
I clenched my jaw. The truth gnawed at me, I never really knew her.
She has changed. Everything about her. The way she dresses. The way she carries herself, calm, sharp, confident, unshakable. The way she speaks with deliberate weight. The way she moves, calculated and meticulous.
She has changed.
Or maybe I never knew her at all.
“Sir!” my secretary called again, stepping closer.
I turned my head.
“Mrs. Serrano’s secretary sent an email last night,” she said quickly. “A deadline. If we don’t respond before it expires, they’ll withdraw and move to another company. We can’t waste time.”
Her voice carried urgency, worry.
Damn Anna. She wasn’t as simple as I thought.
Something’s off. Anna isn’t a Serrano. I have to prove it.
“I’ll think about it,” I muttered. “I’ll send you a response before tomorrow. For now, I need rest. I’m clocking out.”
I didn’t wait for her reply and walked away. My phone rang as I reached for it. Michael’s name flashed across the screen.
I answered. “Michael.”
“Abel!” His voice came bright, too casual for my mood. “Busy today?”
I sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. “What is it, Michael?”
All I wanted was to go home, somewhere silent, somewhere I could think without the world clawing at me. My head was already too loud. If this continued, the rumors about my sanity might not be rumors anymore.
“You sound stressed,” he said. “Good. Perfect. I’m at the café by your building. Come over. It’s been too long.” Then the line cut.
Michael. My closest friend. My only true one. He knew everything, Anna, her scandal, the scars she left, and Flora. He despised Flora, but that was his burden, not mine.
And truthfully, I needed a drink.
Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I walked out of the building. Stares followed me, respectful, curious, some flirtatious. I ignored them all.
My driver straightened at attention the moment he spotted me.
I shook my head. “Don’t. I’ll drive myself.”
He handed me the keys without a word.
I slid into the car, gripped the wheel tight, and drove toward the café just down the street.
I walked in and spotted Michael at the far end. He grinned and waved like an idiot. I rolled my eyes, went to the counter, ordered my coffee, then headed toward him.
Michael could be unbearable when he wanted to.
“Ohhh, Abel, my man.” He beamed, pulling me into a tight hug.
I groaned, patting his back once before shoving him off. “Leave me.”
He laughed as I dropped into the seat opposite him. “Still so uptight,” he muttered, shaking his head.
The waiter set my coffee down. I picked it up and took a slow sip, ignoring his stare.
“You don’t look good at all,” Michael finally said. “Your eyes, your face… damn.”
“What do you think has me down?” I asked flatly.
He smirked knowingly. “Anna. Who else? Her comeback shocked me too. A Serrano? I thought she was a Whitmore, Flora’s sister.” He frowned, confusion tightening his features.
“I’m as confused as you are, Mike. Believe me. It’s like I never knew her.” I leaned in. “And can you believe she has a daughter?”
“What?” His eyes widened. “You’re sure she’s not married to Alexander? No, it can’t be. The headlines were clear. Gloria Serrano’s only daughter.” He murmured the last part, as though trying to convince himself.
“I don’t want to talk about her anymore,” I muttered, leaning back. “She’s making everything harder, especially the project.”
Michael chuckled. “How are your mother and Flora taking it? That bitch must be going berserk.”
“Don’t talk about my fiancée like that,” I warned, my voice sharp.
He waved me off. “Yeah, yeah. Heard you two are tying the knot in two months. Congratulations, Abel… though I doubt it’ll last long.” He laughed, stabbing at his food.
“At least she made me see the truth.”
Michael snorted. “Truth? Abel, she’s Anna stepsister and a manipulative bitch. Makes me wonder, were you just waiting for a reason to pin Anna down? And when the chance came, you grabbed it without checking facts? Or maybe…” He gave me a hard look. “…maybe you and Flora planned it together. If I didn’t know you better, I’d go with the second option.”
“Shut up, Mike.” My tone dropped. “It never happened to you. She betrayed me.”
He held my gaze a second longer, then shrugged. “Anything you say, man.”
We finished our meal in silence.
When we were done, he wiped his mouth. “I didn’t bring my car. Drive me to the park, I’m picking up my son.”
I nodded, and soon we were heading into the city. I parked by the roadside while he disappeared inside the park.
A few minutes later, I stepped out too. The air was warm, filled with the sounds of children laughing with their parents. Families. Perfect little lives.
Once, I’d wanted this with Anna. A perfect family with our children. Until she ruined it.
Then,
My breath caught.
A familiar child turned, and our eyes locked.
Hermione.
Anna’s daughter.
My feet moved without thought, pulling me toward her. She smiled as I stopped in front of her.
“Hey.”
“Hi, Hermione,” I said, my voice lower than I intended. My gaze swept the area. “Is your mother around?”
“No. I’m here with my friend.” She hesitated, frowning slightly. “I’ve been warned to stay away from you. But… I like you. You won’t hurt me, right?”
A quiet chuckle escaped me. “Why would I do that?”
“Abel!”
Michael’s voice rang out. He strode over, but when his eyes landed on Hermione, he froze.
“Wow…” His face went pale. “Abel… she looks a whole lot like you.” Silence stretched for a moment as his eyes raked over her. Then, his head snapped toward me. “Who is she? Did you have a child and keep it from me?”