Chapter 83
Ethan
While talking to James, my mom called.
"Yes, Mother?" I answered.
"Ethan, don't tell me you've forgotten the family dinner tonight." Her voice carried that familiar blend of disappointment and expectation.
Sunday family dinner. Of course. The weekly ritual I'd been avoiding for months. I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache forming.
"I'll be there in an hour."
I hung up before she could respond, tossing my phone onto the passenger seat with more force than necessary. My mind kept circling back to Amelia being in New York again. And those kids. Those two little faces that looked so much like... No. I couldn't be sure. Not yet.
---
The Black family mansion loomed ahead, its stone facade as cold and imposing as the people inside. I parked my car and took a moment to compose myself, slipping on the mask of indifference I'd perfected over years of family gatherings.
Walking into the familiar spacious living room, I immediately felt Uncle David's family watching me. Their eyes followed my movements like predators tracking wounded prey. I noticed Felix sitting alone, unusual for him. My cousin never missed an opportunity to parade his latest conquest at family events.
"Nephew," David nodded, swirling his whiskey. "Still dwelling on the past?"
I kept my face expressionless, though my jaw tightened involuntarily.
"Three years since the divorce," he continued, his voice dripping with mock concern. "Don't tell me you're still pining for your ex-wife?"
The room fell silent. My mother shot David a warning look, but he just smiled, pleased to have landed a blow.
"Felix," my mother interjected, her voice artificially bright, "when are you going to settle down? Your father and I were just discussing how lovely it would be to have another wedding in the family."
Felix choked on his drink, and I almost smiled at his discomfort. Almost.
"Your grandfather is waiting for you in the study," Mother added, turning to me. "He wants to speak with you before dinner."
I nodded, grateful for the escape. As I left, I could feel their stares burning into my back.
I pushed open the heavy oak door to find Grandfather seated in his leather chair, looking out the window at the garden. Despite his age, he still carried himself with the commanding presence that had intimidated Wall Street for decades.
"Have you seen her?" he asked without turning.
No need to ask who "her" was. "Yes."
"And?"
I moved to stand beside him, looking out at the carefully manicured grounds. "She might have children. I'm not sure they're mine."
The words felt strange leaving my mouth. Part of me wanted them to be mine. Another part was terrified of what that would mean.
Grandfather closed his eyes briefly. "Don't do a paternity test."
"Why not?" I demanded, surprised by his directive. I'd already asked Michael to get samples.
He looked at me, disappointment clear in his eyes. "You're missing the point, Ethan. If you do the test, there are only two possible outcomes. If they're yours, it means she hid them from you, which suggests that she no longer loves you. What you should be focusing on is how to win her heart back, not verifying biological facts."
I stared at him, caught off guard by his insight.
"Amelia is a good girl," he continued. "If you approach her with genuine feelings instead of suspicions and investigations, you might stand a chance. True affection can overcome many obstacles."
Grandfather was right. What am I really doing? All these years, I’ve treated her like a case, a puzzle to be solved, but I’ve never truly... looked at her as a person.
Back in my room, I poured myself a scotch and dialed James to halt the investigation.
"End the investigation," I said without preamble.
"Why?" James shocked. "I've made an interesting discovery. The Astor family employs all of Amelia's bodyguards."
I froze, the glass halfway to my lips. "The Astors? Are you certain?"
"Absolutely. Their security detail is extensive. We've managed to detain one of them for questioning."
A surge of unease ran through me. "I'll handle this personally. Where is he?"
"The usual place, that abandoned warehouse," James replied. "But Ethan, there's something else you should know. The Astors aren't just providing security—they're treating her like family. Our sources say she's been living with them in Boston for the past three years."
The Astors. One of the oldest, wealthiest families in America. Old money, old power. What possible connection could Amelia have to them?
I was just planning to listen to my grandfather, but with the Astor family getting involved, things have gotten way more complicated. I need to make sure she's safe first.
---
Leaving before the dinner was served, I rushed to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Manhattan.
I stared down at the man tied to a chair. His split lip and bruised face told me James hadn't been gentle with him.
"Let's try again," I said coldly. "What is Amelia Thompson's connection to the Astor family?"
The man spat blood onto the concrete floor. "I've got nothing to say to you."
His defiance was both infuriating and admirable. I circled him slowly, my footsteps echoing in the empty space.
"She has children," I said, watching his reaction carefully. "Are they your employer's?"
"The children," I persisted, pulling out a knife and pressing it against his neck. "Who's their father?"
"How the hell would I know?" he snarled back. "You think bodyguards get told about paternity?"
I studied his face, searching for deception. Finding none, I pressed harder.
"Very well," I said, putting my entire strength into a brutal punch to his left cheekbone. After days of not eating, it felt like I had drained most of my energy with that punch.
He grunted in pain but maintained his defiant glare.
"When you're released, tell your employer I welcome their vengeance. I'll be waiting."
I turned and walked toward my car, James falling into step beside me.
"You're letting him go that easily?" he asked, surprised. "I thought you'd at least break an arm or something."
His voice buzzed oddly in my head. Suddenly, the warehouse seemed to tilt. A wave of dizziness hit me, and darkness began creeping in from the edges of my vision.
The last thing I felt was the cold concrete against my face as everything went black.