“Ethan!”
The small cart he was riding veered out of control, wobbling before flipping over completely. He fell hard onto the gravel, his knees scraping against the ground.
I didn’t think—I just ran.
“Ethan!” I called, dropping beside him as he cried in pain. Blood had started to form on his knee, dirt clinging to the wound.
“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you,” I whispered, lifting him into my arms despite his resistance. “I’ve got you. Auntie’s here.”
We rushed straight to the hospital.
Hours passed.
Then the door burst open.
Damien stormed in, face tense, eyes blazing.
“What happened?” he demanded immediately. “How did this happen? You were supposed to watch him. You can’t even handle him for a few hours?”
“Damien, I—”
He didn’t let me finish.
His hand came down again.
Harder this time.
The slap rang through the room, sharper than before. My head snapped to the side, and I stood there stunned, one hand trembling against my cheek.
“You hurt my brother?” he shouted. “You had one job—just one—to take care of him!”
The room felt colder after that. My ears rang, my vision blurred, but what broke me wasn’t the pain.
It was the words.
I let out a shaky laugh, broken at the edges.
“Your… brother?” I whispered. Then louder, bitter now. “Or your son?”
Damien went still for a second, his brows knitting together like he was trying to make sense of what I had just thrown at him. Then, out of nowhere, he let out a low laugh—sharp, almost insulting, like he couldn’t decide whether to be amused or annoyed.
“What exactly are you talking about, Clara?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, that familiar cruel smirk creeping back into his expression.
My heart was pounding so loudly it felt like it was inside my head. My fingers shook, but I still forced myself to speak. “I already know the truth… about Ethan.”
The smirk on his face wavered.
“It was Camille,” I continued, my voice breaking a little. “She’s the one who told me everything. Why did you lie to me, Damien? Why hide the fact that your so-called brother is actually your son?”
He folded his arms, trying to look unfazed, but I caught it—just for a second. Something flickered in his eyes. Not quite guilt… but something close. It disappeared fast, replaced by cold arrogance.
“And then what?” he said flatly. “Let’s say it’s true. So what if I kept it hidden and made him my brother instead? What are you planning to do about it, Clara? Ruin me?”