Page 43 of Vengeful Secret

I chuckle. “Of course, you do.”

“Damn straight. I know what’s going on in my own clan, and you’re doing well, Gray. Never forget that you’re my eldest son. I knew when I had you that you’d really make something of yourself. You can take over all of this when I die.”

My throat goes tight. “You’re not going to die.”

“All men die, son. Some of us just make it to old age.” He chuckles.

I smile, our short conversation making me feel a lot better, somehow. I stand up, and my father chews, pointing at me with his fork again.

“Be sure to get some of this heart-healthy pasta. It’s really good. Marisol can cook anything.”

“She can.” I laugh as I exit the room.

Marisol walks past me into it, and I know they’ll sit and talk for a long while.

Marisol makes him happy, and I wish he’d let her do it in the open.

Maybe he’s worried about Lara and Paige. Surely, he knows that Declan and I already know and understand, but Lara and Paige were closer to our mother.

They might see it as a betrayal.

The intercom crackles. “Boss, Ms. Sutton is here again, and she has a wee one with her.”

“Let them through.”

I walk outside, standing on the porch to watch her drive in.

She pulls in and instantly, her little girl climbs out of her seat, waiting for her mother to open the back door. She appears to be around three or four years old.

I’m curious about the daughter, wondering who the father is, wondering what it would have been like if we’d had a child all those years ago.

Sutton gets out of the car slowly, almost like she’s regretting coming here.

I frown.

I know that Sutton has always been nervous about the life I lead, but surely she knows?—

The little girl turns, her face illuminated by the dying sunlight, and I lose all train of thought.

She is a spitting image of her mother, curly, golden brown hair, her face so much like Sutton’s… Except for one detail. Her eyes.Myeyes.Exactlythe same color.

My heart starts to pound in my chest.

No way! This cannot be happening.

Sutton wouldn’t do this to me. Wouldn’t keep this from me. She wouldn’t lie to me. Would she?

The little girl walks up to me. “Hi. I’m Ciara, who are you?”

I can’t think. All I can do is look at her. At those eyes that are a mirror of my own.

I want to ask her how old she is, do the math, but I can’t.

“I’m Gray.”

“Like the color?”

“Exactly like the color.”

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