Chapter 3
Leo was medicated quickly, the fever managed by the kind of doctors and the kind of medicine that cost more than Mariah earned in a week. He fell asleep in her arms in the hospital’s private waiting room.
Ethan broke the silence first. “How old is he?”
“A year and two months.”
“And when… when exactly was he born?”
“March tenth of last year.”
Ethan did a rapid mental calculation, and his face went pale. “Mariah. That inauguration was in June, two years ago.”
“Yes,” she said, finally meeting his gaze. “I tried to tell you many times. Your assistants never let my messages reach you.”
Ethan Blackwood — CEO of Blackwood Construction, owner of a fortune measured in billions — felt his entire world crumble in that instant. All his empire, his companies, his achievements, suddenly seemed hollow and meaningless before the small creature asleep in the arms of a woman he barely knew, a woman who carried his blood.
The room stayed silent for long minutes. Ethan ran his hands over his face, again and again, as if trying to wake from a dream.
“Why didn’t you insist more?” he asked finally, almost a whisper.
Mariah shifted Leo in her lap. “After the tenth attempt, I realized I was hitting a wall. Your secretary made it clear that you didn’t entertain gold diggers.”
Ethan closed his eyes, anger surging through him. He knew exactly who had blocked those attempts. Vanessa. His executive assistant, who prided herself on protecting him from opportunists.
“I need to see,” he said suddenly, looking at Leo with fierce intensity. “I need to be sure.”
“A DNA test?” Mariah asked, with a bitter half-smile. Of course. It was to be expected.
“No,” Ethan replied, surprising her. “I need to see him awake. Look into his eyes.”
As if on cue, Leo opened his green eyes, still bright with residual fever. He looked curiously at Ethan — and then, to the astonishment of both adults, extended his little arms toward him.
“He never does that with strangers,” Mariah murmured, perplexed, her hands trembling.
Ethan approached, waited for a confirming glance from Mariah, and picked the boy up for the first time. An indescribable sensation coursed through him as eyes identical to his own stared back with innocent curiosity. The chin. The eyebrows. Even the shape of the mouth, which resembled Ethan’s mother’s — the mother who had died five years ago.
“Hi, Leo,” he said, his voice thick with contained emotion.
To Mariah’s astonishment, the boy smiled and touched Ethan’s face with his small hands, exploring his beard with fascination.
“Pa!” Leo babbled — one of the few words he could pronounce.
Ethan felt the world stop. Something primal, ancestral stirred in him — an instinct he had never known he possessed. Tears welled in his eyes as he held that small piece of himself, that continuation of his blood, smiling at him without reservation or judgment.
“He’s my son,” he said. Not a question. A recognition that rose from the depths of him. “He’s my son.”
Mariah only nodded, her own eyes glistening at a scene she had never imagined witnessing.
“Let’s go to my apartment,” Ethan said suddenly. “Both of you. Leo needs proper rest. And we need to talk.”
May you like
“I can’t just go to a stranger’s apartment,” Mariah protested — though Ethan was no longer exactly a stranger.
“A hotel, then. Whatever you prefer. But we need to talk, and it can’t be here.” His eyes pleaded. “Please, Mariah. I just found out I have a son. I need to understand everything.”
