Page 35 of The One Who Changed Everything

I squared my shoulders, trying to shake off the anxiety. This was it, no backing down now. "We need to talk," I said, my voice steady despite the storm brewing in my gut.

He didn’t respond, just shuffled a stack of papers with the detachment of a man sorting through junk mail. But I could see the lines of tension at the corners of his eyes. He knew what was coming. He always knew.

"How could you?" I blurted out, not bothering with the niceties of small talk that had never really bridged the gap between us. My words hung in the air.

He didn’t flinch, didn't give me the satisfaction of seeing him react. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, the very image of self-assurance so polished it could reflect his own smugness. "I've no idea what you're talking about," he said, but the flicker of awareness in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.

"Samantha Brown." My voice was more controlled than I felt. The old leather of the armchair creaked under hisshifting weight, a familiar soundtrack to countless one-sided conversations.

“Who?”

A rage unlike any I had felt before roared to life in my chest. His denial wasn’t just a lie—it was an insult.

“Youknowwho,” I ground out, my hands curling into fists at my sides. “Don’t play games with me.”

Dad exhaled, long and slow, as if he were tolerating an unruly employee rather than his own son. “Evan, if this is about some woman from your past—”

“She’s notsome woman.” My voice came sharp and fast, slicing through his feigned indifference. “She’s the mother of my child.”

For the first time, something flickered across his face—shock, maybe. Or maybe it was calculation, adjusting the pieces of whatever game he was playing.

But he recovered quickly. “And what, exactly, do you think I had to do with her?”

I took a step closer, bracing my hands against the edge of his desk. “You tell me,” I challenged. “I hired Jack to find her fourteen years ago. He came up with nothing. Said she disappeared. But she didn’t. She was inIndiana,Dad. Not some remote island. Not off the grid. You expect me to believe our seasoned investigator just… failed?”

Dad leaned forward, steepling his fingers. “Careful, Evan. Accusations like that—”

“Cut the act.” My pulse thundered in my ears. “Did you interfere?”

Silence.

It stretched between us, thick with years of power plays I’d been too blind to see before.

And then, the smallest twitch of his lips. Not a smile—more like the ghost of satisfaction.

“You were never meant for that life,” he said smoothly. “She wasn’t the kind of woman you needed. You’re a Mercer, for crying out loud. I couldn’t have you gallivanting around with some two-bit trailer trash–”

“Enough!” I roared. I had never been so tempted to strike my father as I was at that moment. But to hear him talk about Samantha that way? I couldn’t.

“Did you know? Did you know about Sophia?”

Before he could answer, the door opened and Mom stepped in, her eyes wide with surprise. "Evan, darling, what's going on?" she asked, glancing between the two of us, her concern etched in the gentle lines around her eyes.

"Nothing to worry about, Elaine." Dad dismissed her with a wave of his hand as if swatting away a pesky fly. She hovered by the bookshelves, unwilling to push him further, but not ready to leave the room. A quiet, obedient little mouse. Like she’d always been.

"Actually, Mom, there's plenty to worry about." I turned back to face him. "Daddy dearest here still seems to think he can control every aspect of my life."

"Control?" He laughed lightly, the sound hollow in the expanse of the office. "I was trying to save you from a life filled with regret, son."

My jaw tightened as I struggled to keep my emotions in check. The word 'regret' sat heavy in the air, like a challenge. A life of regret? As if he had any idea about the things that haunted me, keeping me up at night, or driving me to run into burning buildings to save strangers because I couldn't save—

"Save me?" I managed to choke out. "By dictating my choices? By hiding the truth?"

"Choices lead to consequences," he said, his voice dipped in the cool, detached tone of a CEO rather than a father. "I was merely trying to guide you towards the right ones."

"Guide?" I repeated incredulously. “You could have cost me the chance to be a father to that little girl.”

My mother gave a startled gasp.

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