Damian's Point of View
Time slowed. Rachel's words exploded in my ears, like a bomb in a quiet sanctuary.
"Meet your real son." The young boy by her side clutched her hand, his huge green eyes peering up at me. He looked like Liam. Too much like him. The same expressive eyes. The same unruly hair that never seemed to stay down. The same vulnerability was emblazoned across his face, like a delicate, living canvas.
Ava stood behind me, stiff from shock. I could hear her breathing—short and shallow. Her hand stretched for my shoulder to maintain equilibrium.
"That's not possible," she said quietly.
Rachel's lips curled into a smirk, the same one I remembered from our twisted youth. "Oh, sweetheart," she cooed. "You, of all people, should know that nothing is impossible when you're born a Cross."
I couldn't look away from the boy. From Landon.
I forced my voice to work. "Who is he?" Rachel crouched beside him and stroked his curls. "His name is Landon. Landon Cross. He is yours, Damian. Yours and mine."
Every muscle in my body clenched. "No. That's not possible." Rachel pulled an envelope from her designer clutch and waved it like a prize. "DNA results. Confirmed by the same lab you used to test Liam's paternity. Want evidence?"
Ava grabbed the envelope before I could. Her hands trembled as she ripped it open. Her eyes examined the paper, and I saw blood drain from her cheeks.
"Damian," she remarked with a shaky voice. "This is a real test." It is a match.
I shake my head. "No. It cannot be. "I'd remember."
Rachel's smile was razor-sharp. "Not if your father erased it."
A wave of nausea ripped through me. I staggered back, almost slamming into the desk. Ava stretched for me, brushing my hand. Her skin was icy.
Rachel appeared tall and victorious. "So tell me," she murmured. "What are you going to do now… now that you have two sons?"
Ava's POV
Landon sat on the thick cream carpet, scrutinizing a toy truck Olivia had brought from Liam's playroom. I stared at him—studied him. Every detail.
He was like Liam. Like Damian. But there was something different. He had wary eyes. A depletion of innocence.
I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. Rachel was moved to a separate room to wait while we processed.
"Why now?" I asked.
Damian sat at the kitchen island, his fingers tucked beneath his chin. "I do not know. Perhaps she needed leverage. Maybe Lucas set her up for it."
The mention of his brother's name sent shivers down my spine.
"But if it's true…" Damian looked up, his expression unreadable. "Then I failed you. And Liam."
I walked over, placing my hand over his. "You didn't fail anyone. This—whatever this is—was orchestrated. This wasn't your choice."
Damian's jaw tensed. "He looks like Liam."
"Which is why we need more than just one test."
"I'm not denying what the paper says." His voice dropped. "I'm denying that it ever happened. Because I don't remember. And if Rachel and my father were involved…"
I squeezed his hand. "Then we find the truth. Every damn piece of it."
Damian's Point of View
Rachel sauntered into the room like she was walking a runway. "Have you decided how you're going to co-parent your surprise child?"
"Cut the act," I said. "We both know you didn't come here for shared custody."
"Fine." She flung her hair over her shoulders. "I came for war. But I'll settle for custody and a place at the Cross family table.
"Never."
"You can't say that anymore, Damian. Not when Landon carries your DNA. Not when the board starts questioning why you hid him. "Not when—."
I stood. "You believe you have cornered me, but the game you are playing has rules. And you broke them the moment you mentioned Liam."
Her features darkened. "Don't you dare—"
"He's innocent," I snapped. "But you want to put him up against a boy he has never met. You want to split this family apart. For what? Revenge? Power?"
Rachel came forward, her eyes burning. "You've abandoned me. You married her. "You made me feel invisible."
"This isn't about feelings," I said. "It is about truth. And I am going to locate it."
Later that night, after Rachel left the apartment with Landon, I stood on the balcony, marveling at the city skyline. Ava joined me in silence, her fingers wrapped around a mug of tea.
"What if she's telling the truth?" I asked.
"Then we do what we've always done." Her voice was calm. Steady. "We are fighting for the future we want. Not the one they forced upon us."
I turned to face her. "Even if that means fighting my own blood?"
My eyes and hers meet. "Even then."