Chapter 2 - The DNA Test Confirmed I Was the Father of Four Sons—But Their Mother Had a Stack of Papers Proving She Had Been Told I Never Wanted ThemThe next morning, I woke before sunrise.
I hadn't slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw four little boys standing in the restaurant restroom.
Four identical faces.
Four tiny hands.
Four versions of a life I didn't know existed.
At 6:12 a.m., my investigator called.
“Mr. Vale.”
“Yes.”
“We have preliminary results.”
I sat up.
“Tell me.”
“All four children are biologically yours.”
For several seconds, I heard nothing but my own breathing.
“Are you certain?”
“Ninety-nine point nine-nine percent.”
I closed my eyes.
Four sons.
Not one.
Four.
“How old?”
“Six years, two months.”
I looked at the calendar.
Six years.
Two months.
I remembered the last night I had seen Mara.
I remembered her crying.
I remembered my mother telling me the next morning that Mara had left.
I remembered calling her phone.
Disconnected.
I remembered going to her apartment.
Empty.
I remembered the lawyer giving me documents.
A signed statement.
Mara wanted nothing to do with me.
Mara had supposedly chosen a different life.
Mara had supposedly terminated the pregnancy.
Except she hadn't.
She had carried four babies.
Given birth.
Raised them alone.
While I believed she had abandoned me.
“Did you run paternity separately?”
“Yes.”
“Each child?”
“Yes.”
“All four?”
“All four.”
I swallowed.
“Anything else?”
The investigator hesitated.
“There is something strange.”
“What?”
“Their birth records are incomplete.”
“How?”
“They were born at a private clinic.”
“Where?”
“Upstate.”
“Name?”
“St. Catherine's.”
I knew it.
A clinic controlled by my family's legal network.
My stomach tightened.
“Who paid?”
“Your mother.”
I was out of bed immediately.
I walked into the guest room where Mara was sleeping.
The four boys were on the floor around her.
One had fallen asleep holding a toy truck.
Another was curled beneath a blanket.
A third was sprawled across the couch.
The fourth was sitting upright, staring at me.
Milo.
“You're awake.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to see you.”
He looked suspicious.
“You're weird.”
I almost laughed.
“Your mother says I am.”
“No.”
He studied me.
“She doesn't talk about you.”
That hurt.
“Why?”
He shrugged.
“I don't know.”
I looked at him.
“What does she tell you about your father?”
He looked down.
“That he was dangerous.”
My heart tightened.
“Did she say his name?”
“No.”
“Do you know what he looked like?”
Milo looked up.
“Like you.”
I sat on the floor.
He was silent for a moment.
Then he asked:
“Are you our father?”
There are questions that change your life.
That was one.
I nodded.
“Yes.”
He stared at me.
Then looked toward the other boys.
“Mason!”
The three others woke.
“What?”
Milo whispered something.
Their eyes widened.
Max ran over.
“Really?”
I nodded.
Micah hugged my arm.
Mason asked:
“Do you have a castle?”
I laughed for the first time since hearing the DNA results.
“Something like that.”
They immediately started asking questions.
What did I do?
Why hadn't I found them?
Did I know they existed?
Why did I have so many cars?
Could they have pancakes?
Could they stay forever?
I answered what I could.
Then Mara entered.
She stopped when she saw all four boys around me.
Her eyes filled with something I couldn't identify.
Pain.
Fear.
Maybe both.
“Adrian.”
I stood.
“We need to talk.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Four boys.”
She closed her eyes.
“You know.”
“I know.”
“You found out.”
“Yes.”
She walked toward the table.
Then placed a folder on it.
“You're not the first person to tell me you know.”
I opened it.
Inside were documents.
Hospital records.
Lawyer letters.
A statement with my signature.
I read it.
Adrian Vale does not wish to acknowledge any children born to Mara Bennett.
My heart stopped.
“I never signed this.”
She pulled out another.
A bank transfer.
A payment from my mother's account.
Another document.
A letter from my family attorney.
Mara Bennett has been compensated for her discretion and will not contact the Vale family again.
I stared.
“What did they tell you?”
She laughed bitterly.
“That you wanted nothing to do with us.”
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
I closed the folder.
“I didn't know.”
“You didn't ask.”
“I tried.”
“You tried once.”
“I called.”
“You called a number they had disconnected.”
I stared.
“My mother did this.”
Mara nodded.
“She told me you hated me.”
“I never said that.”
“She told me you thought I trapped you.”
“I never thought that.”
“She said you'd chosen Brielle.”
I froze.
“That was six years ago.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about Brielle?”
“She showed me an engagement announcement.”
My blood ran cold.
“Before I ever met Brielle.”
Mara smiled sadly.
“They planned it.”
The truth hit me.
My mother had arranged my marriage.
She had erased Mara.
She had hidden my sons.
Then she'd spent six years telling me I had been abandoned.
I looked at Mara.
“Why didn't you fight?”
“I did.”
“How?”
“I went to your family home.”
“What happened?”
“Your mother had security escort me out.”
“Why didn't you tell the police?”
“I was pregnant with four children.”
She touched the edge of the folder.
“I didn't know who in your world I could trust.”
I had no answer.
Then Milo came into the room.
“Mom?”
She looked at him.
“Yes?”
“Can Dad stay for breakfast?”
Mara looked at me.
I nodded.
She looked down.
“Fine.”
I smiled.
May you like
Four boys surrounded me.
And for the first time in six years, I ate breakfast with the family I had never known I had.
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