Contacted My brother
Rowan’s POV
"Sir... it's been twenty-four hours. You haven't come out."
Callum’s voice was cautious, but Rowan could hear the edge of concern beneath it.
Rowan sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring down at the crumpled paternity test papers in his hands.
99.99% match.
His children.
His.
And he had spent seven years not knowing.
Seven years where he had been living his life, completely unaware that somewhere out there, his own blood existed—breathing, growing.
The rage that had been simmering beneath his skin for hours finally snapped.
Rowan shot up, grabbed the nearest thing—a heavy crystal glass from his nightstand—and hurled it across the room.
It shattered against the wall.
Callum cursed from outside. “Okay, that sounded expensive.”
Rowan stormed to the door, ripped it open so violently that Callum took a step back.
The assistant barely had time to compose himself before Rowan snarled, "You knew."
Callum’s mouth pressed into a thin line. He didn't deny it.
Of course, he didn’t.
Rowan let out a hollow laugh, dragging a hand down his face.
“I’m not even sure why I’m surprised,” he muttered. “Of course, you knew. You always know.”
Callum sighed. “Sir—”
Rowan’s gaze snapped to him. Sharp. Cold. Furious.
"Don't ‘sir’ me right now," he said, voice dangerously low. "How long?"
Callum’s jaw tensed. He didn't speak immediately, and that only made Rowan angrier.
“How. Long.”
Callum exhaled sharply. “Since the moment you came back from the hospital.”
Rowan stilled.
That long?
That fucking long?
A cold, bitter laugh left his lips. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”
Callum's eyes flickered with something unreadable. “You told me not to.”
Rowan froze.
Because—fuck.
He had.
Somewhere deep in his gut, he had felt there were things being kept from him.
Things that made his past before the accident feel like a gaping black hole.
And what had he done?
Told Callum to let it stay buried.
Rowan let out a harsh breath, pressing his fingers against his temples. “Fuck.”
Callum remained quiet.
For once, Rowan hated that about him.
The quiet. The patience.
Like Callum had expected this reaction.
Like he had been waiting for Rowan to find out on his own.
Rowan turned away, pacing to the window. “So that’s it? You were just gonna let me go my whole life not knowing I had children?”
Callum exhaled. “It wasn’t my place.”
That made Rowan laugh—sharp, bitter, and humorless.
“Not your place?” he echoed, turning back around. His glare burned into Callum. “You’re my right-hand man. You control my goddamn schedule. You handle my business meetings. But this—this wasn’t your place?”
Callum’s eyes hardened. “No, Rowan, it wasn’t.”
Rowan’s fingers curled into fists.
Callum didn’t flinch.
Didn’t even look remotely guilty.
And maybe that’s what infuriated Rowan the most.
Because Callum had never looked at him with pity.
Only understanding.
Rowan swallowed, forcing his voice to steady. “How did you find out?”
Callum hesitated.
And that hesitation made Rowan’s gut tighten.
Because it meant there was more.
“Callum.”
His assistant exhaled. “Lady Isolde found out first.”
Rowan’s breath caught.
His grandmother.
She knew?
Callum continued, “She suspected it before. The resemblance was too strong. But when she saw how protective Dr. Laurent was over them, she had me look into it.”
Rowan’s heart pounded.
His grandmother had been watching him.
Watching Remi.
Watching the twins.
And she had kept it from him.
Rowan took a step back, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”
“She did it for a reason, Rowan,” Callum said, voice quieter now. “She wanted to be sure. And she was protecting them.”
Rowan scoffed. “From who? Me?”
Callum didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
Rowan let out a bitter laugh, turning to the bar cart in the corner of the room. He poured himself a drink, fingers tight around the glass.
“She thought I’d be like my parents,” he muttered.
Callum didn’t deny it.
Rowan took a long sip, letting the alcohol burn through him.
Then he turned back, his voice quieter.
“And Remi?”
Callum hesitated. “What about her?”
Rowan’s jaw tightened. “Did she ever reach out to like let me know?”
Callum exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “No…she didn’t.”
Rowan’s grip on his glass tightened.
“So she chose to keep me in the dark,” he said.
Callum didn’t speak for a moment. Then, he sighed. “She did what she thought was best for the twins.”
Rowan’s eyes darkened. “Right.”
Because, of course.
He was a monster. He desvwrred everything that happened to him.
He deserve it.
The more he thought about it, the more his chest ached.
Not just from anger.
But from something deeper.
Something he didn’t want to name.
Because deep down, he knew—
He wasn’t angry that Remi had kept the twins from him.
He was angry that she had made that decision without him.
Like he was nothing.
Like his role in their lives never mattered.
And that—that hurt more than anything else.
Rowan set his glass down, inhaling slowly. “How did you think this was going to end, Callum?”
Callum’s gaze remained calm. “I figured you’d find out eventually.”
Rowan let out a dry laugh. “Oh, don’t worry. I did.”
Callum was silent.
Then—
His brows furrowed slightly.
“…How did you find out?”
Rowan turned fully, meeting his gaze.
His voice was flat.
“I hired an investigator.”
Callum’s entire expression changed.
The composed look in his eyes was replaced with something else.
Something sharp.
Something surprised.
Callum’s lips parted slightly.
Then—
His brows drew together in a deep frown.
“You what?”
Rowan crossed his arms. “You heard me.”
Callum’s jaw clenched. “Who?”
Rowan exhaled.
Then, casually, he muttered—
“Sebastian.”
Silence.
Callum stiffened.
His expression went completely blank.
For a long moment, he just stared at Rowan.
Then—
Slowly—
Callum narrowed his eyes.
“You hired my brother?”
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
