AARON WALLACE POV

Harold's lips mouthed a 'welcome back' or something like it, given that I still had my earphones, so I nodded in acknowledgment. It was barely seven in the morning, and I'd just returned from a run with Mason and Dane. Kyle wasn't missing out because he was a late riser. He'd been crashing at the country club apartments most nights, trying to avoid his father and the new family who'd moved into their suites.

Mason gave my shoulder a quick squeeze as we stepped inside, prompting me to pull out my earphones just in time to catch his words.

"We are grabbing breakfast at Kyle's. You in?"

"No, you go ahead. We're still in the onboarding process," I said, turning him down. The transition had been brutal, mentally draining, and even though most of it was happening online, it was sucking up every last drop of my energy.

"Keep up, newest CEO," Dane quipped before jogging off in a different direction. Mason and I took the stairs but split off when we reached the landing that led to our suites.

Keenan was waiting nearby, handing me a towel to wipe off the sweat. He held the door open, and inside, my mom was seated in an armchair, morning coffee in hand, scribbling something in her notebook while ignoring the TV she had on in the background.

I started toward my room, but just as I was about to slip away, her voice stopped me in my tracks.

"What do you think of the news?"

I turned, glancing her way but saying nothing.

Realizing I had no clue what she was talking about, she paused her writing and reached for the remote.

"Russell sent us the update last night while your father and I were at the Littles' dinner," she said, turning up the volume. The headlines on the screen finally clicked.

Charles Beaumont. There he was, all healed up and offering apologies. Dad hadn't killed and buried him after all. He'd survived, in his convenient time, to clear Anthony's name, as the headlines claimed.

"Surprised he's still alive," I muttered sarcastically, turning back toward my door, already over it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she called after me. Every instinct told me to lock the door before she followed me inside, but I wasn't sixteen anymore, so I let it go and focused on getting ready for my shower.

"What do you want, Mom? Clearly, I could use some space." I shot her a firm look as I took off my compression shirt, but she brushed it off with an eye roll, making herself comfortable on my bed.

Nothing new. I'm her son. There is nothing she hadn't seen, right?

I blow out a frustrated breath.

"Now that the family's back on track, you need to fix things with your father. He deserves better than how you've been treating him lately, and despite everything, he still loves you." She pushed the same speech as yesterday, and the day before that, but all her efforts had led nowhere.

I scratched my nose, offering a tight smile. "If that's all, I'm heading for a shower."

A flicker of defeat crossed her face, and she slumped slightly but didn't press further as I turned toward the bathroom.

She was restless. They were leaving today. Nevertheless, there had been no resolution. That wasn't about to change, not on my part. Dad would only come out of retirement if Grandpa assigned him something in the family business, but definitely not the aviation business.

Half the family was also heading out of Lake Oswego this evening, and I would've been too if I didn't have to stay behind to hand over the country club management to Carol, a task that would drag my departure to tomorrow. Truthfully, I wasn't sure I'd have gone even if I had the chance. Oddly enough, there was this pull to this place, something I'd never felt on any of my previous visits — until now. Leaving would mean leaving Lively. I didn't want that.

The morning was consumed by back-to-back business meetings, and the afternoon was spent combing through reports for the country club. The house already felt nostalgically quiet, everyone out on last-minute errands before their flights, including Grandpa, who was also set to leave tonight.

Meadow was in my suite, flipping through Mom's charity gala magazines, keeping the silence I had requested. But a soft knock on the door, followed by Keenan stepping in, interrupted that peace.

"Sir, could I have a moment?" he asked, pulling my focus from the laptop in front of me as I sat out on the balcony.

"Go ahead," I replied casually, keeping my focus on verifying the finalized maintenance reports.

A heavy silence blanketed the room, coaxing me to pause and glance at Keenan, who seemed tongue-tied, his sharp gaze making it clear the conversation needed privacy. I shifted my attention to my little cousin, who had already picked up on the tense atmosphere and was beginning to whine.

"No... I'll block my ears." She slapped her hands over them before I could even object to her lingering presence.

"What color jet did you want for your birthday again?"

That was bait.

Her eyes sparkled with excitement. "Pink! You promised. How could you forget?"

Busted.

"Meadow, you can hear everything with those hands. Go find something to do so I can have this important talk." I pointed, and she flopped back dramatically.

"But there's no one home. My twin didn't want to hang out with me. What am I supposed to do?" she groaned.

"Grandpa's upstairs. Go hang with him. He could use the company."

With a laugh, she pushed up, taking her cup of ice cream with her. "I'll tell him you said that."

I forced a smile as she breezed past Keenan, fake annoyance written all over her face. The second she was out of sight, he stepped closer, like the information he was about to share was so confidential that even the air could betray us.

"What's going on, Keenan?" I sighed, sinking back into the seat, noticing how off he seemed.

He took a couple of steps forward and handed me a file with a sealed envelope resting on top.

As I took it slowly, he announced, "The results of Bubble's DNA test came back."

For a moment, my entire body went cold, my gaze fixated on the documents, my heart pounding harder than I was prepared for.

"Mr. Wallace, I know this is the last thing you want to deal with, but I suggest you check the results immediately..." His words only fueled my anxiety. I glanced at him, confusion written all over my face. "Please, sir," he urged, like he could see the hesitation in my eyes.

The envelope was sealed. I couldn't accuse him of knowing more than I did, but the look on his face hinted at the gravity of what I was about to uncover. With trembling hands, I carefully tore open the results that could either give me the joy of fatherhood or crush that hope entirely.

I unfolded the paper, my eyes sweeping over the header. 'Child. Alleged Father.' Then down to the bottom left, where the probability of paternity was written... Each number after 99. Was a nine, followed by the percentage.

My world stopped.

"Sir?" Keenan's voice finally sliced through the overwhelming ringing in my ears.

"I have a son." I struggled to process the revelation, but nothing except that silent still.

"Sir, is this a good thing?" he asked with cautious optimism.

A good thing? Absolutely. But the complexities surrounding it made everything feel like an unsolvable puzzle.

"She lied to me." My eyes blinked rapidly as I focused on breathing, my heart swelling with the weight of the news. And Keenan was just getting warmed up. Keenan leaned in, retrieving documents from the file I had carelessly discarded.

"Sir, I know you ordered the research on Miss Kelby to be halted," he said, placing a photo of Mary Kelby from six years ago in front of me. She was being assisted into a truck, seemingly in labor. But it was far too early, months before Bubble's birthday. "I apologize for proceeding with it a couple of weeks back, but it was necessary."

"What is this?" I stared at the image in confusion.

"Mary Kelby was expecting twins but tragically lost them during premature labor."

That clicked into place, but I was too stunned to speak. I just continued to study the photos. Mister Kelby assisted his wife while Lively locked the front door. I flipped to the next picture.

"Immediately after the incident, they fled their neighborhood straight from the hospital, yet continued to settle their monthly rent. They lived on the fringes of Lake Oswego and Multnomah, staying at Mary Kelby's mother's home for ten months. Most locals claimed Mary and Anthony lived there alone with the elderly woman, suggesting that Miss Lively was only there during the initial weeks before she returned to school. However, we know Miss Lively dropped out that same year in February. There's a gap in information about her from February to July until she rode here to see you during your vacation."

Yeah, that.

"And after that, she vanished again until December." He rifled through the documents in my heavy hand, presenting a photo of an older woman on top of the pile.

"You're looking at Margaret Dawson, 65, a retired surgeon who resided and worked at Multnomah Medical Center. She passed away two years ago. Throughout those ten months, she visited the Kelbys weekly, believing that Mary Kelby's mother was receiving elderly care. Unfortunately, all her work records were destroyed, leaving us at a dead end. However, she was the surgeon who performed an emergency cesarean section on 15-year-old Miss Lively on September 29th at her residence in Multnomah."

My face contorted from bafflement. "Liv had childbirth surgery at home? Is that even legal? Why?"

"It isn't, sir. Beyond wanting to keep the pregnancy discreet, our research suggests their finance were in a precarious situation. They had no insurance and had depleted their savings on Mary's IUFD treatment and the necessary procedures for her health that year."

"But they couldn't care for Liv? They still managed to pay rent, didn't they? What the hell?"

"Those last few months, they were consistently late and facing multiple threats of eviction. Mister Kelby had to make occasional trips back to Lake Oswego. Although we discovered that Dorothy Harris, Miss Kelby's grandmother, sold her property prior to Miss Lively's cesarean section, what she spent the proceeds on remains a mystery. Maybe they genuinely ran out of funds for the surgery, but my hunch is they primarily wanted to keep the child hidden." He carefully informed.

I was at a complete loss for words, aware that it was my fault for the things I had said that summer.

"Bubble's birth was registered later, with Miss Lively listed as the biological mother, but she entrusted custody and legal guardianship to her parents." He added.

This brought me back to the things she said a few days ago. It stung, but I had to admit that her behavior this season was justified. She had every right to prioritize herself, given how my family's threats had impacted her. She had to go into hiding without proper medical care. Something could have happened to her, to Bubble... and I wouldn't have even cared. Hell, I despise myself for that now.

As the silence stretched and Keenan had fallen quiet, I felt an oppressive weight of guilt and remorse settle on my shoulders. Yet, there was a flicker of anger, questioning why the woman I trusted would take someone from me, especially a child, and plan to ensure I never had a place in that child's life.

"Take me to him," I said, grabbing my jacket from the couch and striding purposefully out of the suite.

As I made my way to the exit of the house, I was already dialing Chief Todd Martins.

"Aaron Wallace, to what do I owe this call on a Friday afternoon?"

"I need backup."

"You're in trouble?" He sounded concerned.

"More like, I'm inviting it." I gritted my teeth as Keenan opened my door and I slid into the car.

"Mister Wallace, can I get more details than that? For the sake of the Lake Oswego community."

"Perhaps I should hang up and let Thomas Wallace call you on my behalf. Maybe then you'll take me seriously." I threatened causally.

"That's not what I meant, Mister Wallace. Do you want them at the lake house?" He folded.

That was exactly what I thought.

"No, I'll send you the location."

"I'll be waiting for it. Call me if you need anything else, please." He spoke sweetly before ending the call.

He has an obligation to my family to ensure our demands are met. I'm not saying he's unqualified for his role, but my grandfather influenced all the positions he has held throughout his career, so he wouldn't dare refuse a Wallace.

I swiped the screen to start typing in Lively's address when Keenan spoke from the driver's seat. "I was informed by the men tailing Miss Kelby that she dropped Bubble off at daycare a couple of hours ago."

What?

"Why? If she needed to go somewhere, why not have Sadie stay with him at home?"He had surgery scheduled for Monday." He shouldn't be in public care outside his safety.

"She's on the Old River Road path at the moment."

"Doing what?" I retorted. Curious, maybe.

"Alone, sir, by the pier," he peeked through the rare mirror, and I sighed, my eyes flitting to the screen as I typed the daycare's location to Todd. "Roy mentioned she seemed to be upset," he added, causing my fingers to pause mid-typing.

She got everything she wanted. What could make her sad? And here I was, on my way to add to her torment. But what could I do? I was just as helpless. She had all the opportunity to be honest with me. Just days ago, I had asked her directly, and she had instantly shut me out. God, I feel so foolish now, recalling the conversations we had about Bubble, how she allowed me to believe he was her brother, even testing me with him, demanding a place for him in a home we could've shared. If only I had known, what wouldn't I have done to give him everything? But I was an outsider to my child. Yes, I messed up, so much so that I needed an introduction to Bubble after six long years. But what was her plan if I hadn't taken the initiative? If I hadn't investigated, would she have ever let me know I had a child?

I confided in her. After my doctors and Keenan, she was the only one aware of my struggles, yet she chose to deprive me of the hope that fate offered me.

I may not be deserving of Bubble, but he lived. He deserved me as much as I did him. There is a child alive today whom I can call my son, a child I can love and dedicate my life to. And I will fight for him, I will make up for my mistakes. Either she joins me in creating a home together, or she will witness the reality of me stepping into the role of father to Bubble. That is my intention, no matter her choice. She can't deny me herself and also deny me my son.

Upon arriving at the daycare, Todd's men were already stationed outside. No questions were asked. The man in charge stepped forward and introduced himself as Lieutenant Jason. We shook hands, and he guided me and Keenan, presenting his ID to the man Lively had been friendly with the other day.

The man opened the door without hesitation, and we proceeded down the softly humming hallway, where a lady approached us, likely informed by security.

"Sir, how can I assist you? Pickups happen outside for the children's safety. I hope you understand," she said, striving to project confidence.

I brushed aside her words and focused on my purpose. "I am here for Bubble Kel..." I stopped myself from finishing. The last name feels alien in my mouth. He is my son, not the Kelbys.

"Are you a guardian?" she inquired, her smile tight and forced. "We may need proof to confirm, sir. His authorized pickup lists only family members."

How do I convey that I have every right to pick up my child?

While holding her nervous gaze, I maintained my composure but was momentarily captivated by the sight of a little Superman cheering as kids took turns hitting a PJ Masks antagonist piñata. My legs propelled me forward, walking past the woman, who was saying something that Lieutenant Jason handled, clearing a path for me into the child's room.

There he was, happy, giggling. My knees buckled from the surge of emotion in my racing heart, and I lowered myself to the ground.

"Bubble?" My voice caught in my throat, but thankfully he turned, and an instant sparkle lit up his eyes through his mask as his lips curved into a grin.

"Mini—goes?" he gasped, dragging his oxygen tank as he bounded toward me.

He was so beautiful it broke my heart as much as it healed it. "Hey?" I smiled as he approached, but he didn't stop until his small hands wrapped around my neck. I froze in shock at the overwhelming sensation coursing through every fiber of my being. It was as if a weight lifted from me, replaced by a warmth that sowed immense joy, comfort, and an indescribable bond with the boy.

Before I could recover from my astonishment and embrace him, he pulled back, leaving his tiny palms on my shoulders. "Livy sait you no com—ming."

A bittersweet smile slipped from my lips as I observed his eyes twinkle, innocence radiating from his face. He is my son. Watching him stand there felt surreal. Just weeks ago, I was told to bury the hope of experiencing this joy that most men felt. Now, it felt like a dream to discover that my world had expanded.

"I'm not going anywhere. It's you and me, always. How does that sound?"

His smile stretched wide as he nodded eagerly.

"We're kik—in night in—ja." He pointed at the piñata I care less about, as my gaze lingered on the tiny figure in front of me, who carried my blood, my name, my everything.

"What do you say we go back to the lake house?"

His eyes flicked back to mine. "Livy sait?"

"Yeah, she told me to come get you, and she'll meet us there," I lied.

"Kay, okay!" He bounced on his toes, rushing to the shelf for his bag while I straightened up, bracing myself for the same woman from earlier, now flanked by two others.

"Mr. Wallace, please. We have rules that must be followed here. We are handling kids."

I took the folder from Keenan, tempted to flash it in their faces and announce to the world that Bubble was mine. But then I remembered the look on Lively's face just days ago, the hurt when she told me about the rumors that were making the rounds in her neighborhood. My grip on the folder loosened, and I simply said, "I have every right to take him."

If they pushed back, Lieutenant Jason would handle it, but I kept my cool like always. I passed the folder back to Keenan just as Bubble toddled over, and I extended my hand to scoop him up.

Thankfully, for Bubble's sake, seeing he was familiar with me, no one said a word anymore. We left quietly.

My mind reassured me with certainty that Liv would come to me. I had what she wanted, anyway. The entire drive while Bubble curiously examined the rear interior. I mentally rehearsed everything I needed to say to her. Because as much as I loved her with everything in me, I was fuming about what she'd done.

So, I would wait. Let her come to me.

The car rolled to a stop by the fountain, and the valet quickly opened my door.

"Get him a nanny," I ordered Keenan, stepping out and circling to retrieve the boy, who was already peeking out of the door, with his mask still on.

"Do you no Soupman is the trong—est?"

Soupman... His costume came to mind. Ah, Superman.

"He sure is. Have you seen him yet?"

"No, Livy sait I would," he said as I lifted him, carrying the oxygen tank along, while Keenan handled the rest of his stuff.

"How about we watch it together after dinner?"

"Yeah, wit Livy."

This is going to be even harder than I imagined.

I nodded anyway. If she's willing to mend things like I am, then that could be.

"You bing me col—ors?" He asked as we stepped into that building. I reassured him Keenan would bring them for him.

"Here," Keenan handed over Bubble's backpack to one of the staff waiting in the living room. "Mr. Wallace, this is Janet. She's the most suited to care for children," he explained while I was distracted by the boy's chatters, and I gave the woman another glance. Middle-aged, with a warmth in her eyes and a calm presence, she seemed capable of handling Bubble.

"What is he doing here?" A voice pierced from behind. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"Mom?" I shot her a sharp look, silently warning her as she advanced with a cluster of my aunts, accompanied by Uncle Raymond, Emy, and Dane. They all looked ready to leave Lake Oswego, at least until now.

"Hi, Bubble," Emy waved sweetly at the boy in my arms, though he stayed quiet, clutching onto me tightly.

Quickly, I handed him to Janet, hoping to spare him from hearing anything he shouldn't. Thankfully, he didn't protest, just nodded when I told him I'd see him soon.

As Janet left the room, I fully faced the woman whose scowl could cut through steel.

"What are you doing? I thought we settled this. Didn't she take the money? What else does she want now?" Aunt Kathleen fired off while Aunty Debra gracefully settled into a seat. Emy perched on the armrest, looking drained by the moment.

Mom scoffed, her expression smug, as if she'd just deciphered the hardest code. "Of course, they always come back for more."

"Enough," I immediately warned, my voice firm.

"What's gotten into you?" Mom snapped, her eyes flashing with fury.

"What is going on?" Dad's voice boomed from the other side of the room as he entered, just as Uncle Steven, his new wife, and his daughter strolled in through the backyard doors.

"Your son brought back that charity case, boy," Mom hissed, her panic barely restrained. For someone who regularly hosted charity galas, this was a new low, even for her. "I swear, he's being taken advantage of. That conniving leech won't let go."

"WATCH HOW YOU ADDRESS MY FIANCE." I forcedly kicked the heavy coffee table, and it screeched across the floor, halting at somewhere I didn't bother to acknowledge, except for the fury radiating from Mom's piercing gaze.

"Do you hear yourself? That ring no longer implies. It's back in the family. You have no fiancee, Aaron. You will forget this wasted summer ever happened," Mom countered, her voice frantic as she advanced toward me.

"You will not dictate what I do," I retorted sharply.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," someone murmured, just as Dad dramatically interjected, "Aaron, speak to your mother with respect."

"No, all of you will address me properly!" I shot back, seething, my throat parched, while Mom let out an exasperated laugh.

"You can't be serious, acting this way over that girl," Aunty Kathleen chimed in.

"Stay out of my business," I retorted thunderously, watching her recoil in surprise. Keenan stepped closer, whispering in my ear and diverting my attention from my aunt's fiery glare. "Miss Kelby has arrived," he informed me.

Silence deafened me in the heated atmosphere.

An agonizing headache blossomed at my temples, spreading like wildfire as the tension coiled tightly around my neck. I massaged it, cracking my neck from side to side to ease the strain, but found no solace.

Finally, the clamor of voices surged back into my awareness. "I'll take the child and toss him into the lake if that's what it takes to never see them again." Mom threatened with so much hate.

Anger, frustration, and everything in between constricted around me as I snatched the folder from Keenan and slammed it into Mom's hand.

"That 'charity case' is my son. MY SON, MOM."

She staggered back; the folder slipping from her grasp, its contents scattering across the floor like confetti.

"What?" she gasped, her eyes narrowing. The same question reverberated through the room, but I had too much weighing on my mind to care. I strode away, dashing for the entrance.

Lively was here, yelling my name even before the door could fully open.