70__Protecting you

The entire thing exploded.

The media was using the roughest brushes to paint the entire Aryan family as spawns of Satan, a band of thieves and a sinister assembly of murderers.

It was only three days after Marc had been here, but Thomas was still struggling to keep every television in the house turned off, afraid that Amelia would see the disaster this entire matter had become.

Her adoptive parents’ photographs were everywhere, the story running that Arthur had killed them and Marc had covered it up. Instead of people focusing on Arthur Aryan, however, they were focusing on Marc. As he was the mysterious Aryan heir and also Amelia’s husband, Thomas didn’t find it surprising.

Luckily, her being Vincent Harris’s daughter hadn’t been revealed yet. Since Amelia had accepted Thomas’s offer to stay for at least a week before she went back out there, he needed to do his bloody best at making sure she was protected.

She hadn’t left her room much today but Thomas wasn’t worried because Mrs Willingham had been spending a lot of time with her. The only one who was worried was Vincent. Jittery with nerves, he was marching about near her room, anxiously waiting.

“Why don’t you speak to her?” Thomas asked, looking upstairs from where he sat at the dining table.

Clutching the banister, his father looked down at him. “You think so? I don’t think it would work. I mean, I’m not sure she wants to see me. All of this media mayhem is our fault, after all, w-what if—”

“Dad. Go and speak to her. It’s worse for her to know that you know she’s your daughter, and yet you haven’t said one word to her.”

Vincent looked around in distress, looking for any means of escape. “I need to find Belinda—”

“I’ll do that,” Thomas said, picking up his phone. “So go and introduce yourself to Thea.”

Tensing, Vince slowly looked toward the room.

Making a call, Thomas bit his lip anxiously.

To his surprise, the call was answered.

“Hello.”

He straightened. “Elizabeth. It’s me.”

She was silent for a moment. “I know.”

“Oh, uhm…” He nervously scratched his forehead. “Where are you? You must be having a difficult time with reporters—”

“My brother’s made sure the media can’t reach me. Both James and I are safe. Clearly, you were expecting the opposite since your family leaked the footage to the media.”

He paused. “What? No, no, it was all Linda and she did it without mine or my father’s knowledge—”

“My father’s been arrested, I’m sure you’ve seen. I’m busy trying to get Marc to let James and I go home so I can make sure my family’s okay. I haven’t got time to speak with you.”

His expression slowly fell. “Elizabeth. Please, don’t be angry with me.”

She sighed. “I’m not, Thomas. Everything’s just a mess right now, I can’t talk to you at the moment. Marc’s locked himself up in his house, I need to call Arson so we can figure things out.”

He nodded. “Okay, I understand. Amelia is at our place so, if you need us to… keep James, you know, while you’re busy…”

“I’ll… see. If I need to drop him off, I’ll let you know. You do know that the board knows about James? That he isn’t Marc’s son but yours and mine.”

“What?! How? My… my dad didn’t tell me…”

“I believe my father told them. Some final attempt at screwing Marc over and it might be working.” She sighed wearily. “Arson says the old folks are accusing Marc of falsifying his image for the CEO position by pretending James is his son. I need to do damage control, chat later.”

“But I—”

The call ended and, flustered, Thomas stood, quickly checking his messages. Why hadn’t he heard about this?

He noticed his father rushing by upstairs. “Dad!”

“Not now!” Vincent said, nervously rushing to Amelia’s room. He stood stiffly outside her door before raising a hand and knocking.

“Yes?” Mrs Willingham’s voice rang out.

Vincent slowly pushed open the door.

Seated at a small table by the windows, Amelia and Mrs Willingham raised their heads, looking at him as he entered.

He saw Amelia’s eyes slightly widen, her back straightening as she stared at him.

“Oh, dear,” said Mrs Willingham. “Well, I better get going then, dearie. Chat later.”

“No, please.” Amelia caught her wrist, looking pleadingly up at her. “Stay.”

“Yes, please stay,” Vincent added, practically trembling in his shoes. “I believe your presence could uh… make this more comfortable. I assume you two have spoken a lot over the past few days.”

Mrs Willingham nodded, adjusting her glasses. “Certainly. The young miss had many questions, it was only a pleasure to help her understand everything that happened when she was born.”

Amelia’s gaze was lowered now, staring into the tea in her cup.

Hesitantly, Vincent approached. “Uhm… hello, Amelia.”

She could hear the anxiousness in his voice and, knowing that she was just as nervous, chose not to meet his gaze.

“I’m Vincent Harris,” he went on awkwardly. “And I’m… I’m your father…”

Her chest constricted, shoulders tensing. Even after everything Mrs Willingham had explained, it was still hard to believe. How on earth did they expect her to accept that her kind, gentle parents had been involved in the theft of a child? That they’d stolen her? Remembering what her dad had said the day he’d been murdered, she knew it was true, but that didn’t make the pill any harder to swallow.

Raising the folder in his hands, Vincent held it out to her. “Here. It’s stuff I believe you might want to see. Your birth certificate, both I and your mother’s details, photographs… I included the DNA test I had done to prove that I’m your father and that… that you’re my daughter.”

Her gaze slowly shifted until it landed on the brown folder, curiosity piquing her interest. Still, she didn’t take the folder.

She didn’t know yet if she wanted to include herself in this family. If they were just as bad as the Aryan’s, Amelia might want nothing to do with them.

When she didn’t take the folder, Vincent quietly placed it on the table before her.

“I hope you’ll take a look,” he said gently. “I am deeply sorry that I didn’t find you, my dear. I tried everything I could. Everything. Losing you was the most painful thing your mother and I ever had to—”

“Stop,” she whispered, her expression morphing with pain. “Please. Not yet.”

He nodded, going red with embarrassment. “Right, I… I apologize.”

She inhaled deeply, her eyes running listlessly over the table as she tried to process her life. “I just… I need to know something.”

“Yes.” He stepped forward eagerly. “What is it?”

She bit her lip for a moment. “Did you really cause the car accident that nearly took the lives of Marc and James Aryan?”

Vincent paused, his face blanching. “I… I beg your pardon?”

“He did not,” Mrs Willingham said firmly. “Forgive my intrusion, dear, but Vincent had no hand in the accident. As you mentioned, the little boy was in the car. Despite all the rivalry between the adults, he would not harm a child.”

Stiff with both guilt and relief Vincent slowly lowered his gaze. He wanted to say that he hadn’t known that James was in the car, but that meant he would have to tell her that he had caused Marc’s accident.

Swallowing hard, he went quiet.

Just then, a phone rang somewhere in the house.

Mrs Willingham stood and went to a phone in the corner of the room.

Amelia assumed all the house phones were connected but didn’t pay much attention.

“Hello,” Mrs Willingham said into the phone. “This is the Harris residence, yes. I see. Just a moment, please.”

She held the phone away from her ear, looking at Amelia. “It’s for you, Dr Parker.”

“Really?” Mildly startled, Amelia stood and walked across the room. “Who is it?”

“The Hills Foundation Hospital.”

Her eyes widened as she put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Dr Parker?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Doctor, here’s a lad in our lobby asking for you. We don’t have the parents’ contact details, we’re assuming he’s one of your patients but he doesn’t know you’re not currently at work.”

She blinked in confusion, glancing back at Vincent Harris and Mrs Willingham. “I’m sorry, one of my patients? What’s the child’s name?”

“He says his name’s Jamie.”

Amelia’s mouth dropped open. “Wha… what’s he doing there?! Is he injured?!”

“Nope, not a scratch on him.”

She huffed in disbelief. “Well, are there any adults with him? His mother or… or his dad?”

“He’s alone, doc.”

“Shit, I’ll be right over! Call Dr Preston or Dr Kruger, they know who he is, they’ll keep him safe.”

Hanging up, she rushed across the room to put on her slippers.

“What’s going on?” Vincent asked worriedly.

She glanced at him as she rushed by to get a jacket. “James is at the hospital.”

“James? Thomas’s son, James?”

“Yes.” Amelia left the room, rushing downstairs and nearly colliding with Thomas.

“Oh!” He grabbed her before she could crash into him. “I’m sorry, Amelia, I’m in a hurry! Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’ve gotta go! I just—”

“Me too, Elizabeth just called. James is missing.”

“He’s at the hospital!”

He stopped dead, eyes wide. “What?! What hospital? What happened to him?!”

“No, no, don’t panic, he’s uninjured. I have no idea how, but he found his way to the hospital to find me.”

*“What?!”*

Thomas was beyond shocked and Amelia grimaced. “Let’s just go.”

“Yeah, *uhm…* we’ll take my car.”

*********

“And you’re sure he’s in a safe environment?” Dr Kruger questions, her arms crossed over her chest.

Amelia nodded wearily, glancing back at where James sat with Thomas. “He is, don’t worry. He must’ve been curious about where I’ve been lately, so he snuck out while his mother was busy. She’s on her way here now.”

The room hummed with low murmurs as her colleagues glanced at each other.

“So, basically…” Dr May began, her eyes narrowing. “You’re not living with the boy anymore? You and Marc Aryan got a divorce didn’t you? Because the real mum showed up. I knew it!”

“It’s only normal,” another doctor said. “The man murdered her parents.”

Amelia frowned. “Actually—”

“Well, if she’d known that she wouldn’t have married him in the first place, Lily,” Dr Preston said, glaring. “None of you’ve got the right to judge.”

“We’re not judging!” Dr May denied.

“You’re judging,” Ahmed said tiredly, coming to stand beside Amelia. “You’ve been going on about this all week, me ear’s bleedin’.”

“Well, then if that’s the case then you’re the weird one for *not* judging!” Dr May exclaimed. “I mean, just think about it. Can you imagine being married to the man who killed both your parents?!”

“He didn’t kill them,” Amelia bit out tightly.

“Exactly,” said Dr Preston. “They clearly said he had nothing to do with the death of Amelia’s father, that’s all Arthur Aryan.”

“And her mother?” Dr May said scornfully. “We all saw the same video, you saw how he walked away from that woman whilst she was dying!”

Amelia stiffened, her gaze lowering. She knew the video was everywhere, but it was still difficult accepting that everyone had seen it.

“Well, that…” Dr Preston trailed off. “Maybe he thought she was waving.”

“Who?!” exploded Dr Lilian May. “Who in their right mind—”

“Dr May.” Dr Kruger looked at her from the corner of her eye, the look absolutely lethal. “A word, please.”

Paling, Dr May slowly lowered her arms as she watched Dr Kruger march out of the room. “Ah… yes, Dr Kruger, I’ll be right there!”

“Oh, my God,” Ahmed said, staring at his phone.

“What?”

He looked up at them in disbelief. “I’m just scrolling, and I’m seeing this article with the most ridiculous headline. Apparently, Marc Aryan’s mother died from a pill overdose and he witnessed it. Apparently, he watched her die.”

Dr May gasped dramatically, both hands covering her mouth.

Amelia was pale, her eyes wide as she looked up at Ahmed. “What news source is that? Where did they get that information?”

He showed her his phone with a shrug. “Don’t know, love, but it says right here…”

She stared at the article, feeling her blood turn to ice in her veins. This was horrible. How had this gotten out?

Oh, God. Marc.

“I knew it!” Dr May hissed. “Remember what Dr Keith said about him? We should’ve listened! The man is rich and shaped like a god, but he’s all evil inside!”

“He isn’t!” Amelia shouted.

Everyone jolted, staring at her.

“What do you know about him?!” she demanded. “Nothing! What makes you think you can stand there and judge him like you know him? There isn’t an ounce of evil in that man!” Her eyes were tearing up and she battled to contain her emotions.

Ahmed reached out to touch her. “Amelia—”

“Let me go!” She jerked away. “None of you have any right to say a word against him! Have you forgotten who the sponsor of this hospital is?! How many surgeries have we performed on children from less privileged homes?! How many patients have gotten treated in cases where they couldn’t afford to pay for their treatment? Every single one of those payments came from Marc Aryan! With his own money, he’s helped treat thousands of people. With his own money, he set up this hospital and gave jobs to each one of you. Just months ago, you were all singing his praises and now you’re cursing him?”

Dr May scoffed. ‘That was when we didn’t know his true colours—”

“He’s an amazing man!” Amelia insisted. “See that beautiful child over there?!” She pointed at James. “Marc adopted him when he was born, he’s his sister’s child. Jamie would’ve been given to strangers if his uncle hadn’t adopted him. And you all saw how much he loves that child, you saw how he stayed by his side when James was in hospital!”

“Well, yes,” said Dr May, sticking her nose up. “But that doesn’t change the fact that the man watched both his mother and yours as they perished before his very eyes. And I mean, really, dearie, to defend him like that when he could’ve saved your m—”

“Marc Aryan has a condition!”

The room went silent. The harsh sound of her own breathing filled her ears and Amelia felt her heart pound chaotically in her chest. “He has a condition that’s similar to Alexithymia but not quite. When he was born, he had the inability to recognize or process human emotions whether in himself or when expressed by others. He was only twelve years old when he watched his mother die and he didn’t know she was dying! He couldn’t tell because of his condition! The same reason applies to what happened with my mother—”

“Is that the story he told you?” mocked Dr May.

“I saw the medical records with my own eyes! I’m a doctor, I can at least tell when medical records are legit and when they’re falsified. He’s been getting treatment for his condition since he was around the age of sixteen, but he only got proper treatment from around the age of twenty. My mother’s death happened just around when he started getting help, he wasn’t all better yet. He was still… s-still working hard to get there…”

Tears choked her up and she couldn’t go on. “Please, don’t judge him. He’s worked so hard… to get to where he is. H-he’s gone through so much.”

Her colleagues watched her, gripped by the seriousness of what she was sharing.

“Dear baby Jesus,” whispered Dr Preston, shocked.

“Is this really true?” Dr May questioned.

Wiping her tears, Amelia glared at her. “It is!”

“Well, then why didn’t he tell the authorities about what his father did to your mother?” the older woman countered.

Amelia groaned. “Because—”

“Amelia.”

A hand took her elbow, turning her around.

Surprise filled her eyes. “Arson.” Looking at James, she saw Elizabeth holding him in her arms as Thomas watched.

“Enough,” Arson muttered quietly. “Come with me. Marc needs… just come.”