Page 7 of Sebastian.

My expression softens, regret swimming in my eyes. I'm well aware of the challenges Andries has faced, the uphill battle he's fought since being cut off. He’s done all this to himself, though. If only he'd left Roxanne behind, he could’ve been welcomed back. But his fixation on her has led us here, hours away from her becoming part of the fucking family–by marriage, at least. She will never be one of us as far as I’m concerned.

“I didn't mean it's easy,” My tone is softer, more empathetic to his case. My palms are sweaty as I work my way through this conversation. “You've navigated tough circumstances, but you've also made choices that haven't helped.”

Andries’s anger begins to subsides, replaced by a flicker of vulnerability. He looks upwards at the ceiling, and heaves a long sigh, before looking back at me. “I just want to be accepted. To be part of the family for who I am, not who you want me to be.”

My heart clenches at his words. I understand the yearning for acceptance, the desire to mend the fractures that have torn us apart. In that moment, I realize the depth of my own regrets and the urgent need to find a way back to my children. I think about my own father, and how my love for Julia threatened to ruin everything with him, and the endless pain it caused me.

But Julia was the oldest daughter of a well respected family, pursing law school to become a judge, and a strong girl that had bloomed into a powerful woman. Roxanne is not fit to be compared to Julia in any sense of the word. A former escort, and a whore, play toy for my fucking bastard brother. My father had to accept Julia, and it was made easier because she was a good match for me. There is quite literally not a woman in the world who is worse for my son than Roxanne Feng.

My thoughts overwhelm me, and as the silence lingers, Andries's patience wears thin. His frustration becomes more evident with each passing moment. He continues to press me, his voice edged with determination. “What's going on with Karl, Dad? Is he finally going to face justice for his crimes?”

A part of me wants to share the truth, to alleviate his concerns and lay bare the secrets that have plagued our family. But another part of me hesitates, knowing that unveiling the truth will change things forever. The words I’m about to say can never be taken back.

“I don't know about that,” I respond, shrugging. I can tell that our game is over, so I put my cue away and dust off my hands. “That's something you should ask him.”

The evasiveness of my answer only fuels Andries's determination. He faces me directly, his hand on my shoulder, forcibly halting me from turning away. His eyes search mine for answers, a silent demand for the truth. “I’m not going to ask Karl a damned thing. You’re going to tell me, right now. What secret did Mom want to tell Karl?”

My mouth is dry and my palms are sweating. Damn. This is harder than I thought it was going to be. Saying the truth about Karl aloud is something I haven’t done in over twenty years. Even thinking about it feels alien to me.

“Are you really sure about this union?” I ask, deflecting his question. God, if he just says he isn’t sure about this marriage, tells me that he has his doubts, I will move mountains to have this whole fucking ceremony shut down here and now. And then I won’t have to reveal anything about Karl, and everything can return to normal. Well, everything except my trust in Julia. “Is there really nothing that could make you change your mind?”

Andries’s eyes narrow, frustrated. “I'm pretty sure about it, yes,” he retorts, gesturing to the suit he’s wearing, his impatience palpable.

A wave of resignation washes over me as I realize that my son is resolute in his decision. I won’t be able to tear him away from Roxanne and this sham of a wedding, but at least I can take the upper hand back from Julia and cut her scheme off at the knees.

“Very well. Then I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

Andries withdraws his hand from my shoulder, and I feel a sense of detachment settling between us…a chasm that I’m not sure will ever truly be fixed. The opportunity to repair things, to be the complete and whole family that we have always been is slipping through my fingers. My next words will damn my wife in the eyes of our oldest son, but it has to be done. Julia did all of this, made all of this necessary, all the while knowing exactly who she has been dealing with.

Me. Her husband. Sebastian van den Bosch. I may be older and grayer these days, but I’ll be damned if I’m not just as dangerous as I’ve always been. With that in mind, I look right into my son’s eyes and ask, “What do you know about Karl exactly?”

He seems taken aback by my question at first, his brows drawn together in something resembling a frown, but then takes a moment to process it and think further. “Mom told me you have a great relationship with him because he's one of the longest-serving employees at the company.” His words are tinged with confusion, but he continues, “And that it was Grandpa's wish, before he died, that you keep an eye on him. Is that true?”

“It is true,” I confirm, giving him a nod. “I've known Karl for over twenty-two years. I recall that when my father had a heart attack, the first person to visit him after me was Karl, and he stayed there in the hospital room with me for hours. I know how you feel about him now, son, but he wasn’t always this way.”

Disbelief and anger ripple across my son’s face, and he huffs instantly at me. “And yet, the man you seem to have a deep admiration for raped Elise’s friend, Patricia, and is now trying to destroy my future wife's reputation. Your future daughter-in-law, may I remind you, whether you want to admit it or not. So maybe you should look at Karl dragging our family’s name through the mud, not Roxanne.”

I sigh, the weight of the truth pressing upon me. “Yes, Andries, I know that he made many obvious, terrible mistakes, but—”

“Mistakes?” Andries interrupts, incredulous. “You call them mistakes? A mistake is breaking a vase or missing an appointment, not forcing yourself on an eighteen-year-old!”

I meet his gaze, holding firm despite the complexity of the situation. Nothing that my son is saying is false, even if he does tend to have a flair for the dramatics. But none of Karl’s crimes change the stark reality of what he is to me, even if Karl himself doesn’t know it.

I hold up a hand to cut Andries off, and his jaw snaps shut. “I know, but regardless of what he did, he's still my brother.” My words cause my son to freeze, and they change everything, forever. “He just doesn't know about it.”

The revelation hangs in the air, its weight settling upon us. Andries is stunned. I can just imagine how his mind must be racing to comprehend the magnitude of the news. I certainly remember how hard it hit me when I first was told the truth about Karl’s parentage.

“What?” he stammers, taking a few steps back, his mouth gaping at me. “You said your siblings died in a car explosion, so how…how can he be your brother?”

“You’re not wrong about that first part. My full-blooded siblings died in a car explosion.” I nod solemnly, thinking about the loved ones that I lost so many years ago, and the trauma of it all. They had been ripped away from me so violently that I still don’t think that I have ever truly healed. “But Karl is the bastard son of your grandpa. My Dad. Which makes him your uncle.”

“I’ll NEVER–” Andries explodes, but I hold up my hand a second time.

“I’m not finished. My father knew all along about Karl, but I didn’t know until I was a grown man. And before your grandpa died, he made me swear to him to take care of Karl and look after him.” I pause for a moment, observing the distress in Andries’s face. “I don't know about you, but I don't want Karl to share the same surname as us. I didn’t back then, and now, considering the things both of us know he’s done, it’s even more important to ensure he is never linked to us in that way.”

Overwhelmed by the revelation, Andries walks away from the billiards table, sinking into an armchair. Words fail him as he grapples with the shattered illusions of our family history. The truth cuts through the facade of stability we have clung to for so long. I know exactly how he’s feeling, except back when I found out about Karl’s parentage, he was still a decent man. These days, he’s done some monstrous things, or at least been accused of them, and that must make this even harder for my son to swallow.

“I can't believe it,” he whispers in disbelief, his hands holding his face. “It can't be true.”

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