Chapter 20
The shock on everyone’s faces was impossible to miss after Alaric’s declaration.
“He’s fallen for another woman? How is that even possible?” Cormac thought to himself, struggling to comprehend the weight of his words.
“You might be eager to get rid of me,” Orion sneered, shaking her head, “but do you truly need to make up such a ridiculous excuse? I don’t believe it!” Though she had certainly heard another woman in his room last night, she couldn’t bring herself to fully accept Alaric’s words.
“Believe it or not, that’s your problem.” Alaric didn’t spare her another glance as he walked out, Harry nestled in his arms.
Orion made to follow, but Cormac stopped her, grabbing her arm firmly.
“Why are you holding me back? I need to confront the woman who seduced Alaric!” she demanded, her voice sharp with anger.
“Orion, please,” Cormac said, his voice thick with frustration. “Whether she exists or not, he has never loved you. Why are you still clinging to him?”
“Cormac, I’m your sister! How can you side with him now?” Her voice broke as she tried to pull away from his grip.
“Exactly,” he said, his tone soft but firm. “It’s because you’re my sister that I want you to see the truth. There are plenty of men in the world. It’s not just Alaric. There will be others who will love you, but look at yourself! The more you act like this, the more he’ll despise you. Don’t you see that?”
“I don’t see it!” Orion’s voice was a mix of frustration and disbelief. She wrenched her arm free from his grip. “You won’t help me! Fine, I’ll go to Mom and Dad. They’ll help me!”
With that, she stormed off in tears, leaving Cormac standing there, both helpless and frustrated. He honestly felt like she had lost her mind.
Once Alaric had settled into the car with Harry, the boy looked up at him with wide eyes. “Dad, did you just say you like another girl? Is it true?”
Alaric shot him an intimidating glare. “Was it you who brought Galatea around?”
“Dad, you pretend to have amnesia around me,” Harry said with exaggerated innocence, “saying all those sweet things to win me over, all the while scheming to raise her status.”
Alaric’s jaw tightened. “You’re taking this way too far.”
Harry held up his hands in defense. “Dad, it’s not what you think. If my real mom doesn’t love me, then I just want a mom who does. And Galatea… she’s great, isn’t she?”
Alaric said nothing, his thoughts swirling.
Harry quickly amended, realizing he might have gone too far, “Dad, please don’t be mad anymore. You know, your usually handsome face loses its charm when you’re angry.”
Alaric couldn’t help but smile despite himself. “You sure know how to sweet-talk,” he teased.
“Hand on heart,” Harry swore, offering a playful grin.
The warmth in Alaric’s chest softened the anger he had been holding onto. Harry’s emotional intelligence had a way of diffusing his frustration.
Harry, sensing his father’s mood lightening, ventured a question that had clearly been on his mind. “Dad, I asked Cormac… since I was born after Mom left, could there be someone else who’s my real mom? She doesn’t really feel like my mom at all.”
Alaric was quiet for a moment, before responding, his voice steady. “That’s highly unlikely.”
“Why?” Harry asked, his curiosity growing.
“Because of your grandmother,” Alaric said, a hint of finality in his tone.
His grandmother, a formidable woman in every sense, had always run the family business with an iron fist. She cared little for sentimentality and never would have accepted a child who wasn’t from the Knight bloodline.
“Since Caspian is my son, that only leaves Orion as your mother,” Alaric continued. “Besides, the old lady would never have picked just anyone to bear my child—she’s too focused on lineage to let that happen.”
Harry, still processing, looked uncertain. “Even so, can we truly be sure? What if…?”
“If your biological mother was someone else, don’t you think she would have surfaced by now?” Alaric responded, his tone a little more patient. “After all, you’re six years old.”
Harry was silent, the wheels turning in his head. Slowly, it started to make sense.
Alaric glanced at him, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Do you believe that two kids can look identical without being related by blood?”
Harry blinked, caught off guard. Caspian and I look exactly alike… is it really just a coincidence?
“I don’t believe it,” he muttered, still processing, but quickly added, “Dad, you’re asking too many questions. I’m driving here, and you’re distracting me.”
“Sorry about that,” Harry apologized immediately, covering his mouth. “I’ll be quiet.”
Alaric chuckled softly, his heart warming. The boy was getting cuter by the day. If Caspian had tried this little act before, it would’ve only fueled his temper. But now, with a few sweet words, his anger melted away.
Harry, with his charm and emotional intelligence, always seemed to know how to manage Alaric’s moods.
Meanwhile, Caspian was back at home, lost in guilt and worry. He had spent the night on the living room couch, his mind racing. Eventually, exhaustion overcame him, and he fell asleep. When he woke the next morning, he found himself back in his bed.
“Mom!” he cried out, suddenly sitting up, his heart pounding as he rushed out of the living room barefoot, heading straight for the kitchen where Galatea was preparing breakfast.
“Mom, you’re back?” Caspian asked, his voice laced with nervousness.
“I got back last night,” Galatea replied, noticing his bare feet. She quickly scooped him up, her voice filled with concern. “Why were you sleeping on the couch? And why didn’t you put on your shoes?”
Caspian looked down, guilt washing over him. The warmth of her affection was something he wasn’t used to, and it stirred a sense of longing in him. He had never experienced such tenderness before.
“Put on your shoes, sweetheart, and wash up. Breakfast will be ready soon. I made your favorite—grilled steak,” she said, her tone soft as she carried him back to his room to slip on his shoes.
Caspian watched her carefully, uncertain. Was his deception still unnoticed? Did she suspect something?
“Mom,” Caspian ventured, his voice hesitant, “which patient did you see last night?”
“A patient with severe mental and physical ailments,” Galatea answered, her voice calm, but the words caught Caspian off guard. Was she referring to his father? Alaric’s health had always been a concern, but his mind was still sharp. Could this misunderstanding have stemmed from something else?
“Mom, was that patient really in such bad shape?” Caspian asked cautiously, trying to gauge her reaction. “The VIP patients at the hospital—besides their health—are usually fine, right? Tall, handsome, maybe?”
Galatea raised an eyebrow at him, suspicion flickering in her eyes. Caspian quickly added, “Just guessing!”
“Well, his looks are certainly not bad,” she said, her tone honest. Back in her socialite days, she’d met many wealthy heirs. Most were average-looking. Alaric, however, was a rare exception.
“But his character… leaves much to be desired,” Galatea added, shaking her head. “Let’s not talk about him. Go brush your teeth and wash your face.”
As Galatea left, Caspian stayed behind, deep in thought. If her opinion of his father was so low, how could they ever build a relationship? No, I must find a way.