Chapter 73
The thought had never crossed Alaric’s mind before—not once in all these years.
But now, the existence of a child who looked so much like Caspian that even his own mother couldn’t distinguish them forced him to reconsider the impossible.
“I’m just wondering if there’s a chance,” Alaric said, his tone calm, almost too composed.
“There’s absolutely no chance!” Cormac responded emphatically. “Think about it—if Orion isn’t Caspian’s biological mother, then that would mean my parents, my sister, and your mother have all been lying to you for years. Do you really think that’s possible?”
Alaric remained silent, his expression unreadable.
Cormac took a deep breath and pressed on. “Let’s break it down, starting with your mother. You know what kind of woman she is, right? Social status and family reputation are her everything—she values them more than her own life. If she had to choose someone to bear your child, she would have picked a woman from an impeccable background. Someone with beauty, intelligence, and elite education. Someone with exceptional genes.”
He leaned forward, voice unwavering. “Now tell me—where exactly would she find such a woman willing to secretly have your child and then disappear? A woman of that caliber wouldn’t agree to something so absurd, especially for a man she barely knew.”
Alaric’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.
Cormac pushed further. “Even if—by some miracle—your mother did find such a woman, do you really think Orion would willingly play along? To raise a child that isn’t hers? And let’s go even further—even if Orion lost her mind and fell hopelessly in love with you, what about my father? You know how he cherishes Orion. She’s the apple of his eye. He would never allow his daughter to be used like that.”
Alaric had already considered all of these points. Each argument was rational, making his theory seem ridiculous. And yet… two nearly identical boys existed before his eyes.
Coincidence? He didn’t believe in coincidences.
“None of this analysis matters,” Alaric said at last. His voice was cold, resolute. “One simple DNA test will be enough.”
Cormac’s eyes widened. “What? You’re actually going to do a DNA test?”
Alaric gave him a firm look.
“With whom?” Cormac demanded. “You and Caspian? Or Caspian and Orion?”
“I have never doubted that Caspian is my son,” Alaric stated with conviction. “There’s no need for a test between us. He is my boy.”
Cormac let out an exasperated sigh. “So, you’re saying you want a test between Caspian and Orion?”
Alaric nodded.
“Are you insane?” Cormac nearly threw his napkin down. “Alaric, you can’t be serious! No matter the results, this is going to hurt people. It could damage the relationship between our families—”
“If the test proves my suspicions right,” Alaric interrupted coldly, “then I’m the one who should be heartbroken.”
Cormac ran a hand down his face, groaning. “Of course, of course. The great Mr. Knight is the only one who ever suffers.” He shook his head. “Look, I still think the chances of what you’re suggesting are nearly zero. But if you insist, I won’t stop you.”
He hesitated before adding, “Just… not now. My mom isn’t doing well. Do it for me. Put this on hold for now.”
Alaric’s brows furrowed slightly. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s been complaining of stomach pain and discomfort for the past few days,” Cormac said with a sigh. “At first, the doctors diagnosed it as severe inflammation. We thought medication would help, but even after several days, her pain only worsened.”
His expression darkened. “I had her medical images reviewed by some experts. One of them suspects she might have cancer, but it’s not confirmed yet. We need more tests.”
Alaric’s gaze sharpened. “You’re a doctor yourself. Can’t you tell the difference between inflammation and cancer?”
Cormac sighed. “Come on, man. Everyone has their specialty. I’m a psychologist, not an oncologist. If specialists couldn’t give me a clear answer, how could I?”
“If there’s even a possibility, you need to get her tested immediately,” Alaric said, his voice firm. “You can’t afford to miss the best window for treatment.”
“I know,” Cormac murmured. “I just… I don’t want to scare her if it turns out to be nothing. So many doctors ruled it out. What if it’s a false alarm?”
Alaric’s expression remained unreadable. “I hope it’s a false alarm.”
Cormac’s stomach twisted at the words. At that moment, he wasn’t sure which outcome he feared more.
After lunch, Alaric returned to his office, where Silas Moon was waiting with a contract in hand.
“Mr. Alaric, please take a look.”
Alaric skimmed through it quickly. It was in order.
Once he closed the folder, Silas immediately reported, “I’ve reached out to Mr. Gavin. He said he’s available to meet anytime—it’s just up to you.”
Alaric glanced at his schedule. “Arrange it for tomorrow morning at nine. Reception room.”
“Understood, Mr. Alaric.”
Once Silas left, Alaric immersed himself in work. Hours passed, and before he knew it, it was almost five.
Then—
Knock, knock.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and Galatea stepped inside.
Alaric’s eyes flickered with surprise. She looked different.
Her hair was cut short, neatly tucked behind one ear, accentuating her youthful and vibrant appearance.
“It’s my first day out after being discharged,” she explained lightly. “I passed by a salon and thought, why not? A fresh start after a close call.”
Alaric studied her for a moment before speaking. “The hairstyle suits you. You look beautiful.”
Galatea’s lips curved slightly. “Thank you.”
“Are you done with work? If you are, we can start.”
“No rush,” Alaric said smoothly. “Let’s grab dinner first.”
“I’m not really hungry,” Galatea replied. “We can start with the acupuncture and then—”
“I’m hungry.”
She gave him a look before sighing. “Fine.”
Alaric took her to a luxurious seaside restaurant. The atmosphere was extravagant, with dim lighting and an intimate setting. Most of the diners around them were couples.
Galatea arched an eyebrow. This man really knew how to set the scene.
After settling in, the waiter handed her a menu. She glanced at it briefly before ordering a simple steak.
“Are you trying to save money for me?” Alaric chuckled. “Last time you skipped a meal, you ended up in a car accident. Now that you’re out of the hospital, I owe it to you to treat you properly.”
With that, he ordered an assortment of dishes for her.
“Alright,” Galatea conceded, smiling slightly. “Since Mr. Knight isn’t short on cash, I won’t hold back.”
She then tilted her head. “But don’t you usually cook for your son? How come you’re able to dine out today?”
Alaric laughed. “It’s not necessary anymore. He’s grown up—he understands things better now. He can either have the chef make his meals, or he can cook for himself.”
Galatea narrowed her eyes. “You really should spend more time with him. Kids these days have so many ideas.”
Alaric smirked. “I might actually need your advice on that.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
His gaze lingered on her, unreadable yet intent. “What exactly is it that makes kids like you so much?”