Chapter 11

AIDEN

Gia was my daughter. I knew it.

When I drove to the bakery, I only hoped to meet Freya. I imagined her shock. But I never imagined I would be the surprised one.

Freya was stunned. I didn't know I'd given her the impression that the party was our last meeting. I had no intention of letting go. She ran away once; there wouldn't be a second time.

Then Gia walked in—more like sprinted. That face! I was taken aback. She looked so much like me. She was around four or five, Cillian had said.

Fuck. I should have pressed him for more information. Then I wouldn't be speeding back to my office to figure things out. I wanted to respect her privacy; I thought I'd learn the rest from Freya. But she seemed to be hiding something—her stiff posture and frequent swallowing spoke volumes.

The moment I connected the dots, I wanted to get back in my car. Luckily, my face gave nothing away—years of practice hiding my emotions.

Before anything, I needed to authenticate my assumptions. But I was lost as to what to do if it were true. I didn't know what I was going to do. Fuck! Okay. First things first.

"What's the matter, brother? You've been needing my help quite often, huh?" Smugness dripped from his words. If he asked for my Aston Martin, I'd burn it down with him inside.

"Don't give me shit," I scowled.

"I didn't imagine it would be so much fun watching you thrown off balance by a single woman. I really need to see her, man!" I wanted to strangle the amusement out of him, but I needed him.

"I may have a daughter."

That might not have been the best opening—a little too direct—but I wasn't in the mood for elaborate context.

"Whoa! Okay," Cillian pulled a hand from his pocket and rubbed his jaw. He sat down. "You're stressed. Tell me. I'm all ears."

He thought I was spiraling. And I was close.

"I think I have a daughter, and I need to be sure."

He blinked. Twice. Then he chuckled disbelievingly. "You think you have a daughter?"

Didn't I just say that? I nodded. He stared, thoughtfully. Mildly put, Cillian looked like he was trying to figure out which wire had come loose.

"Hey, wanna get a few drinks to relax?"

I clicked my tongue. "Cillian."

"Your mind isn't functioning. Or you skipped biology lessons. Because you can't have a daughter when the only thing you've fucked in years is your hand."

This was a bad idea. Calling Cillian was a bad idea. We were on the seventeenth floor. Should I throw him down? He felt the need to state the obvious, but I understood his incredulity. I'd been celibate for years, and now I claimed to have a kid. Wild.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Freya's daughter. She's probably mine."

Silence. Then realization flashed in his eyes.

(Continues…)

Chapter 11 (continued)

"No way!"

I shrugged and leaned back. "She looks a lot like me."

Cillian stared, then grabbed his laptop. He returned and worked on it. I tried to think through the next steps, but my mind was all over the place.

A few minutes later: "When did you guys bang?"

Yeah. That was the best I could expect from my brother.

"August, six years ago." Hilarious. Earlier, I couldn't remember the names of the women I slept with, much less the month. I even remembered the exact date: August 19th. But I'd rather lose my business than tell Cillian that. He wouldn't let me hear the end of it. As it was, he was amused.

"Yep, April baby." I blinked. That was fast. I was losing it. I should have been freaking out, but I was praising his tech skills.

I stood and went to the sofa. I needed to see for myself. This news was hard to digest.

"Fuck, dude! You have a kid!"

He chuckled, stunned and amused. I ran a hand down my face.

"She kept my daughter from me," I gritted. I didn't want the whole office to know.

"Yeah—"

"Why? Why the fuck wouldn't she tell me? I knew nothing about Freya, but she knew me. She knew where I lived. She could have easily reached out." I wanted to smash something. All these years, I had a daughter and didn't know her. She'd probably accepted that her father wasn't in her life.

What did Gia know about me? What had Freya told her? Was I the bad guy in her story? Just thinking about it made me sick.

"What are you going to do now?" Cillian was serious.

I closed my eyes. "I don't fucking know."

"Did you talk to her? Gia?"

I nodded, replaying my visit to Meringue. Big doe eyes, soft brown hair in neat pigtails. "She's beautiful."

"Yeah, she—"

"Should have seen her picture first. No doubt she's yours," I said, watching him zoom in on a photo of Gia on Freya's Instagram. Gia looked exactly like me. She was holding an ice cream cone, smiling, with a bit of pink cream on her nose.

Seems Freya and I were meeting sooner than I thought.

The final lines are unintelligible and have been omitted.