Page 117 of Sweet Little Thing

“He’s not my father’s son…” He repeated what I already knew. Confused, I could do nothing else but wait. He was still grasping mentally at something. A fact he wasn’t prepared for. “Neither am I.”

Those last three words caused me to pause and repeat them in my head. Neither am I? I was confused. Neither is he what? His father’s son? What he said dawned slowly, and my jaw dropped as everything sank in.

“Wills has none of my father’s DNA. Not a trace. If he’s my son, he’d also have some of my father’s DNA. He’s unequivocally mine. He even has my blood type. His eyes aren’t the only thing I gave him.”

His voice was deep, hoarse with emotion. I took a step towardhim, and he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it. “He’s not my father. The man I’ve grown up fearing, trying to please, and ended up hating was not the man who gave me life. He abused me. He damaged me. He taught me at a young age not to trust anyone. He kept me from finding any real relationship or even love until you.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but he tossed the paper on the bed and let out a harsh laugh. One that had no humor. One so full of anger and disgust that I took a step back.

“She knew. My mother…she knew. She knew I wasn’t his, and she let me grow up under that man’s fist. When she could have taken me, all she had to do was prove I wasn’t his. That was it. But the money…that goddamn money. It was all that mattered. All that fucking mattered.”

My heart was breaking as he spoke. The little boy he’d been was so desperate to be loved. He so desperately wanted to please that man. The one who hated him, knowing he wasn’t his son. Believing his own mother allowed it when she knew he could be free of the man seemed heartless. Even more so than Portia. At least she’d left her daughter with someone who would raise her with love and adore her. She was left with a mother who made sure she was always taken care of and secure.

“It’s possible she didn’t know?” I wanted to believe his mother didn’t.

He didn’t look at me. “She knew,” he replied, his voice now void of emotion. Where the pain had been, it was now hollow.

Words didn’t come. I wanted to say something to comfort him, but nothing came to me. Instead, I walked to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. The stiff body under my touch didn’t relax. I could almost feel his emotions pulsing through him. Even now, as a man, he is forced to face the monsters of his youth.

The secret I might hold inside me would stay there for now.That’s all I could do. Stone needed me to be strong and stay by his side. And that’s what I would do.

Chapter

Seventy-One

Stone

Hilda didn’t leave her room until ten minutes after nine the next morning. I’d been pacing the living room floor, trying to remain calm as different scenarios played out in my head. There was a good chance that the man I had thought was my father already knew he wasn’t. He may also know Wills wasn’t his son as well. I had to be prepared for that. I also needed to talk to Hilda to find out what she knew.

There was too much riding on all this, and she chose to sleep in. She didn’t seem worried at all about Wills.

When she finally came out of the room, she was completely dressed, her hair and makeup done. The scent of her perfume that had once turned me on now made me gag. Regret was the only thing attached to that smell.

“Good morning,” she said, beaming brightly as if her little boy hadn’t been left scared and alone. As if the child we had created didn’t need to be rescued. She was taking her bloody sweettime getting dressed, and now she was smiling. My hands fisted beside me, and I fantasized about putting them through a wall. My anxiety grew until anger began to take over.

“He’s mine,” I told her and waited to watch her reaction. I needed to know if she knew more than she had always let on.

She paused a moment. Her eyes shuttered, and she smiled. “Good. That makes this easier, doesn’t it?” Her response wasn’t one of relief. It was more rehearsed than anything.

“Did you know?” I demanded. “I don’t have time for fucking games. Did you know he was mine?” My voice was getting louder.

Her eyes flew open wide in response to my fury that was impossible to mask.

“How would I know, Winston?” Her hands went to her waist defensively. “I’d been fucking you and your father at the same time. I was stupid and careless. But he was old, and I needed your youth and vitality. Your dick was always ready to please me. He couldn’t keep up with my needs. You did. I was wrapped up in his power and money, but I was addicted to fucking you. So no, I was never sure who Wills belonged to!” Her cheeks were pink and flushed. I could see the way she was moving toward me and the way her chest was rising and falling too quickly. It was obvious what she wanted. What she was thinking about. She definitely wasn’t focused on Wills right now.

“But you didn’t care either, did you?” I shot back at her and moved away, putting distance between us. I didn’t want her close to me. Her choices, her selfishness…it disgusted me. However, her mental trip down memory lane had caused her to think about things she wanted and missed. Things I never wanted to experience again.

“I was confused, Winston. Scared. Your father is a powerful man. I was doing what I had to in order to protect us both.”

Again, no mention of Wills. As if his well-being was of noconsequence to her.

“It seems you’re not the only woman to marry the man and not be sure who had fathered the child she carried. My mother did the same thing. Who fathered me, however, is unknown. I’ll have to ask her. What I do know is that she left me with that man exactly like you left Wills. Not entirely sure if he was your child’s father or not. But the money he gave you was more important than the welfare of your child.” The pain my mother had caused was coming through, and I was putting that on Hilda. And she deserved it. She’d done the same thing. They were alike—vain and self-absorbed.

“What are you talking about?” Her perfectly plucked brow barely wrinkled with the Botox I knew had to be under her skin.

“My mother was like you. She was fucking someone else while she was with my father. The DNA results came back, and they didn’t just confirm that Wills was mine,” I paused and glared at her. I wanted to make sure she understood all of this—every damn word. “Wills isn’t his grandson either. There is NO blood relation to the man I always assumed was my father to Wills. Yet Wills is my son. So that tells you what?”

Her eyes rounded, and her jaw dropped. She blinked several times. I let that information sink in. She covered her mouth with her left hand. Her candid shock only infuriated me more. This was all something I had forced. She’d never have pushed for me to check Wills’s paternity. I did that without provocation. I was the one who wanted to know. She didn’t want Wills. Her showing up here had nothing to do with Wills, I knew that now. I saw past her shallow excuse.

---