room became eerily quiet. The only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock on the wall behind him.
Darius stared at the man a few moments longer, sure someone would pop through the door and declare that this was a prank.
“Look, Mr. LeBlanc—”
“Kace.”
“Kace…there must be some mix-up. You’ve got the wrong guy.”
“You’re Darius Taylor-Pratt, son of former actress Liberty Taylor. Adopted by your stepfather, William Pratt, at the age of two. You’re thirty years old, and you received your undergrad at—”
“All right.” Darius held up a hand. He wanted Kace to stop talking long enough for him to wrap his head around what was happening. He sucked in a deep breath and tried to slow his rocketing heart rate. “You’re saying that this guy, this…”
“Buckley Blackwood.”
“…and my mother…they were together at some point.”
“Yes.”
“He knew I was his son. Yet, he never so much as called or dropped a birthday card in the mail in thirty years.” Anger slowly crept up his spine. “Why? Was he ashamed that he’d fathered a son by a black woman?”
“No,” Kace responded emphatically. “That wasn’t it at all.”
“Then what was it exactly?” Darius seethed, unconvinced.
“You were the product of an affair during his first marriage. That’s why he thought it best to care for you from a distance. When you were two, and your mother married Mr. Pratt, Buck agreed to allow him to adopt you and raise you as his son. You were to be informed of the adoption once you turned eighteen, which I assume you were.”
Darius gripped the armrest without response, his head pounding and his muscles tense.
He’d been told that Will wasn’t his biological father. But his mother wouldn’t reveal his father’s identity beyond saying he was a wealthy man who didn’t want to “complicate” his life.
“Darius,” the man said, “I realize this must come as a shock to you, but—”
“That’s the understatement of the year, Mr. LeBlanc.” He gritted the words through clenched teeth.
“Just Kace is fine,” the man insisted.
Darius was beginning to hate Kace’s sympathetic expression. It felt a lot like condescension and pity.
“The old man is dead, so I’m obviously not here for a father-son reunion.” The declaration made him sound like a heartless ass, but Buckley Blackwood had shown him the same callous disregard. “And you could’ve conducted the reading of the will via video conference. So why the hell am I really here?”
“I’ll allow Buck to explain for himself.” Kace read the final will and testament of Buckley Blackwood. The more he read, the more agitated Darius became.
Buckley Blackwood was a coward and an asshole.
Too cowardly to claim him as his son while he was alive. And the kind of jerk who left everything to his pretty, young ex-wife while leaving nothing to his children. And just for shits and giggles, Darius was being asked to take a DNA test to prove he was Buck’s son.
“Any questions?” Kace put down the will and clasped his hands on the desk. The man seemed braced for a verbal assault.
“What’s the point of a DNA test? The man’s dead, and it’s not as if I’m in line to inherit anything.”
“You have three siblings.” Kace laid out the photos individually. “Kellan, Vaughn and Sophie.”
Darius’s mouth went dry, and he couldn’t speak. He wanted to shove the photos onto the floor and call bullshit on this entire charade.
But he couldn’t.
Darius picked up each photo and studied it.
His brown skin was darker than theirs, but they shared many facial features.
His nose, chin and cheekbones were similar to theirs, and he and Sophie had the same rich brown eyes.
An unexpected sense of belonging washed over him, like a wave at high tide, with the power to knock him off his feet. He swallowed hard, returning each photo to the mahogany desk.
“Do they know about me?”
“They learned of you after their father’s death.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“So far, just the family,” Kace said.
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” A knot tightened in his gut. The same one he’d developed when he’d gone to school with wealthy kids who’d treated him like an undeserving outsider.
He’d learned to relish that status. Had incorporated it into the Thr3d brand. But he wasn’t keen on experiencing that kind of painful rejection again. Especially not from people with whom he shared DNA.
Darius wanted to walk out. Refuse to play along with the old man’s sick game. But a part of him needed answers. And this was the only way he’d finally get them.
“I’ll take the test.”
“They’re expecting you at Royal Memorial Hospital.” Kace slid a sheet of paper across the desk, then closed the folder. “As for the estate…from what I’ve learned about you, you’ve always been a fighter. Two of your siblings are contesting the will. I’m certainly not encouraging you to do so, but—”
“It is an option.” Darius rubbed his jaw.
Kace gave him a subtle nod. “I’ll be in touch when I get the DNA results. In the meantime, someone else would like to speak with you. Should I send her in?”
Darius nodded absently, not really listening. He pulled his phone from his pocket once the door clicked shut behind Kace. He needed to tell his mother and stepfather he finally knew the truth about his paternity. But they were on vacation. And this wasn’t the kind of conversation they should have over the phone while they were an ocean away. He’d wait until they returned from Europe and talk to them in person.
His relationship with them had been strained since he’d learned that Will wasn’t his biological father. He could’ve forgiven that lie. Maybe even understood it. But when his mother refused to reveal the identity of his father, Darius had been furious.
Now he knew the truth.
He was the son of some rich asshole who hadn’t wanted him when he was alive but felt the need to alleviate his conscience on his deathbed.
The door opened suddenly, startling him.
“Hello, Darius. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Miranda Dupree extended a hand.
He
