“You should cut ties with me, Chase, before the shit hits the fan. This is going to be a freaking circus. They’ll never leave me alone, after this.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You don’t understand—”
“Gemma!” His eyes flash with frustration. “Listen to me. I don’t give a shit about your past or the press. It doesn’t fucking matter to me. All that matters is this, right here, you and me.” His voice is unshakable. “Whatever it is, I’ll fix it. But you have to let me in. You have to trust me enough to make it better.”
I freeze, staring at him. Weighing the truth in his words.
My mother’s voice whispers from the back of my mind.
When you start to fall, don’t talk yourself out of it — the right man will be there at the bottom, to catch you.
“He knows,” I whisper, staring so deep into Chase’s eyes, I can almost see his soul.
“Knows what, sunshine?”
I take a deep breath.
“He knows about my father.”
***
Knox and Chase are both staring at me, expressions of surprise on their typically stoic faces. I can’t exactly blame them; hearing that the man responsible for approximately half my chromosomes is Milo West — the same Milo West who owns seventy percent of New England’s tech industry — is a bombshell big enough to rattle even the most composed person.
“How is that possible?” Knox asks bluntly, shattering the silence.
“My mother never really gave me the down-and-dirty details.” I shrug. “All I know is they met twenty-seven years ago, shared a few weeks of passion, and, like magic, nine months later…abracadabra baby!”
Knox stares at me blankly, clearly not appreciating my attempt at levity.
“Gemma.” My eyes move to Chase when he says my name. “Does he know about you?”
I rub my temple, hoping it might sooth the headache pounding there. “He knows.”
“And?”
I sigh. “And he never had any interest in me, okay? He already had a family by the time I came along. Millionaire tech tycoons don’t exactly make a habit of going to their illegitimate, adulterous love child’s soccer games or invite them to spend the holidays together.”
“He didn’t provide for you at all?”
“He sent money.” A sharp exhale of disgust slips out. “Mom sent it right back. We didn’t need his charity.”
“It’s not charity if he’s your father,” Chase says softly.
“Chase.” I roll my eyes. “Come on. He isn’t my father. He’s nothing more than a sperm donor.”
“Gemma—”
“No!” I run my fingers through my hair, exasperated. “I don’t want to talk about this. And frankly, if it weren’t for Ralph, wewouldn’tbe talking about this. Ever.”
Chase’s eyes narrow on my face. Mr. CEO doesnotlike the idea of me keeping secrets from him, that much is apparent.
“What was in the box?” Knox’s voice is low, intent.
I glance at him. “My birth certificate. TheFATHERsection is blank, so that wouldn’t have been much help to him. But… there were letters.”
He lifts one eyebrow in question.