PART 5 — The Man Who Wanted My Son
Nobody moved.
The house seemed to hold its breath.
Declan stared at his mother.
“Say that again.”
Aurelia swallowed.
“The attack on her wasn't an accident.”
My mind went blank.
“What attack?”
Declan looked at me.
“You never told me?”
“I don't know what she's talking about.”
Aurelia shook her head.
“Five months before the divorce, your car was tampered with.”
I remembered.
The accident.
The night I had nearly driven into a concrete barrier after my brakes failed.
I'd always believed it was a mechanical problem.
Declan had told me the dealership would handle it.
But Aurelia's words changed everything.
“You knew?”
Declan's face was pale.
“I knew there was a problem with the car.”
“But not that someone caused it.”
He looked at his mother.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why are you telling us now?”
“Because the person responsible is still alive.”
Silence.
“And they're looking for James.”
Declan's phone rang.
He answered.
“Tell me.”
His security director's voice was urgent.
“We traced the message.”
“To where?”
“The old Rowan estate.”
Declan looked at me.
“That's where we're going.”
We left the house under heavy security.
For the first time, I sat in the back seat beside James while Declan sat across from us.
He hadn't spoken much.
He kept looking at our son.
Every few minutes, his eyes met mine.
There was something different about him now.
Not the powerful businessman who had once controlled every conversation.
He looked like a father who had just discovered five months of his child's life had been stolen from him.
Eventually, he spoke.
“I should have been there.”
I didn't answer.
“For his first heartbeat.”
Silence.
“His first ultrasound.”
I looked out the window.
“His first kick.”
“Declan…”
“I know.”
He looked down.
“I know I can't get those moments back.”
The car continued through the snowy streets.
Then he whispered:
“But I won't miss another one.”
I looked at him.
For a second, I saw the man I had married.
Not the billionaire.
Not the ruthless businessman.
Just Declan.
My husband.
The man who once used to put his hand on my stomach and talk to our unborn child before either of us knew whether we'd ever have one.
I looked away.
The old estate appeared through the trees.
It had been abandoned since Declan's father died.
The gates were open.
That alone was enough to make everyone nervous.
Security vehicles stopped behind us.
Declan stepped out.
“I'll go first.”
“No.”
He turned.
I was holding James.
“You're not leaving us behind.”
He walked back toward me.
“You shouldn't be here.”
“Neither should you.”
For a moment, we stared at each other.
Then he nodded.
“Stay close.”
We entered the house.
Dust covered the furniture.
The air smelled of old wood and damp stone.
Aurelia stayed outside with security.
Declan and I walked deeper inside.
Then we heard footsteps.
Someone appeared at the end of the hallway.
Evelyn Hart.
She smiled.
“Declan.”
His expression turned cold.
“You.”
She looked at me.
“And the baby.”
I instinctively stepped back.
Declan moved in front of us.
“You've been watching her.”
“For months.”
“Why?”
“Because someone had to.”
“Who?”
Evelyn smiled.
“Your father.”
Declan froze.
“My father is dead.”
“Yes.”
“Then you're working for a dead man?”
“No.”
She reached into her coat.
Declan's security immediately raised their weapons.
Evelyn slowly removed a small black notebook.
“I've been protecting this.”
Declan stared at it.
“The ledger.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you hide it?”
“Because your father wasn't the villain you think he was.”
Declan laughed bitterly.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I expect you to read it.”
She tossed the notebook onto a table.
Declan opened it.
Page after page contained names.
Payments.
Dates.
Companies.
Then he stopped.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Marcus Rowan.
His father.
But beside several entries was another name.
Richard Vale.
Declan stared at it.
“Who is Richard Vale?”
Evelyn looked at me.
“Your mother's brother.”
I felt confused.
Declan's expression hardened.
“My uncle died before I was born.”
“He didn't.”
Silence.
“He changed his identity.”
“Why?”
“Because your father discovered he was stealing from the company.”
Declan turned the page.
There were photographs.
Richard Vale.
Older now.
Alive.
Then another photograph.
A recent one.
My blood ran cold.
I recognized him.
He was the man who had once approached me outside the hospital.
The stranger who had asked whether I was “Mrs. Rowan.”
I had forgotten his face.
But now I remembered.
He had looked at my stomach.
He had said:
“You should be careful who you trust.”
Declan saw my reaction.
“You know him.”
“I've seen him.”
“When?”
“During my pregnancy.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“That explains everything.”
“What?”
“Richard knew about James before anyone else.”
Declan grabbed the notebook.
“Why?”
“Because he believes your son is his claim to the Rowan fortune.”
Declan's face became stone.
“He thinks James gives him access?”
“No.”
Evelyn looked directly at him.
“He thinks James is the only person who can legally inherit everything.”
I felt dizzy.
Declan stared at her.
“My son isn't an inheritance.”
“I know.”
“Then why is he being hunted?”
“Because your father changed the will before he died.”
Declan froze.
“What did he change?”
Evelyn opened the final page.
“The entire Rowan estate was placed into a trust.”
“Whose name?”
Evelyn looked at James.
“His.”
My heart stopped.
Declan stared at our son.
“All of it?”
“The company. The properties. The investments.”
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Evelyn's voice softened.
“Because your father knew what would happen if Richard ever found out.”
Declan's jaw tightened.
“And he waited until my son was born?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“He didn't know your son would be James.”
Declan frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Evelyn looked at me.
“Your father knew you were going to have a child.”
I froze.
“How?”
She hesitated.
“Because he received the pregnancy records.”
Declan's eyes widened.
“From whom?”
Evelyn looked terrified.
“From the same person who leaked them to me.”
“Who?”
She opened her mouth.
Before she could speak, the lights went out.
A gunshot echoed through the house.
I screamed.
Declan grabbed me and pulled me behind the wall.
James began crying.
“Stay down!”
Another shot shattered a window.
Security rushed into the hallway.
Evelyn dropped to the floor.
Then I heard a voice from upstairs.
Calm.
Almost amused.
“Declan.”
He looked up.
A man appeared on the balcony.
Older.
Gray-haired.
But unmistakably familiar.
Richard Vale.
He smiled.
“It's time we talked about your inheritance.”
Declan held me tighter.
Richard's eyes moved to James.
“And my grandson.”
Then he raised his hand.
Behind him, two men appeared.
And one of them was holding a photograph of me from the night my brakes failed.
Richard smiled.
“You've spent five months believing your divorce was the end of your story.”
He looked directly at me.
“It was only the beginning.”
