PART 3: The Chase Down the Dusty Road
"Shut your mouth! Don't you dare use your filthy breath to speak Maren's name!" I pointed a shaking, furious finger straight at the grand entrance of the villa. "This marriage is off. The wedding is canceled—there will be no ceremony, no reception, nothing. You have exactly two hours to pack your miserable things and get out of my house. If you are not gone, this file goes straight to the District Attorney’s office tomorrow morning. Let's see if the powerful Whitmore family can bail their daughter out of charges for malicious framing, bribery, and character assassination!"
Tessa flinched at the mention of the District Attorney, but her aristocratic pride refused to let her back down completely. She curled her lips into a cruel sneer, stepping closer until she was whispering right against my ear.
"Rowan, do you really think it’s that simple? Have you forgotten that your massive East Side real estate project relies entirely on a fifty-million-dollar credit line from my father’s bank? You sue me, and I will personally ensure your company is bankrupt before the week is out! Let's see who you choose then—your ragged ex-wife and her two bastard children, or the CEO chair you spent half your life bleeding for!"
With a vicious glare, she snatched her expensive handbag, purposely driving her stiletto heel into the scattered documents on the floor, and stormed out. The heavy front door slammed shut behind her like a declaration of war.
I didn't sleep that night. I sat alone in the dark, staring at the final piece of paper in the file—the birth certificates of two babies born at a charity hospital on the outskirts of town. The date of birth matched perfectly to the timeline, exactly nine months and ten days after the final night we had shared before our divorce. The name listed under 'Father': Rowan Bellamy. Those children carried my blood; they possessed the same soft, wavy golden hair as my own father. Yet, only hours earlier, I had stood by and watched my sadistic fiancée throw a twenty-dollar bill at them like they were stray dogs.
Early the next morning, as a heavy fog still hung over the fields of Franklin, I drove back to that rural road like a madman. I pulled over at every dilapidated convenience store and gas station, desperately showing Maren’s picture to anyone I could find. After hours of agonizing dead ends, a middle-aged mechanic looked at the photo and sighed.
"Oh, that poor girl? It’s heartbreaking. She’s all by herself with newborn twins, renting that run-down shack hidden deep in the valley behind that hill over there. She walks along the road every day, collecting aluminum cans and scrap metal just to scrape together enough cash for baby formula."
My chest tightened so hard I could barely breathe. I slammed on the gas, the SUV tearing down the rugged, unpaved trail. But as I rounded the bend leading to the small, tin-roofed house, my heart stopped. Tessa’s familiar red sports car was already parked in the dirt yard.
"No, no, no..."
I kicked my door open and bolted inside. The scene awaiting me made my blood run boiling hot. Maren wasn't there—she must have been out collecting cans—and the elderly neighbor she had hired to watch the babies was splayed on the floor, groaning in pain. Tessa was frantically hoisting one of the sleeping infants out of a worn-down wooden crib. The sudden movement startled the baby, who began to scream in terror. Tessa’s face was a mask of unhinged desperation.
"Rowan! You’re just in time!" Tessa shrieked the moment she saw me burst through the door. "If you want this little mistake to stay safe, you will hand over the original investigator files and sign a contract promising the wedding is still on! Otherwise, I swear I'll—"
"Get your hands off my child!"
Every ounce of my corporate restraint evaporated. I lunged forward like a feral beast protecting its young, grabbing Tessa’s wrist and wrenching it backward. She screamed in agony, her grip loosening. Swiftly and gently, I scooped the crying infant into my arms, shielding him against my broad chest. Feeling my warmth, the baby's cries began to subside, his tiny, fragile hand weakly brushing against my shirt.
With a powerful shove, I threw Tessa down onto the dusty floorboards. She pushed her disheveled hair out of her eyes, glaring up at me with pure venom. "Rowan Bellamy! You will pay for this! I will destroy you, and I will destroy this pathetic excuse for a family!" Cradling her injured arm, she stumbled out to her car. The engine roared, and the red sports car tore away, leaving a blinding cloud of dust in its wake.
I held my newborn son tightly, my legs buckling beneath me as I fell to my knees on the dirty floor. Hot, heavy tears fell from my eyes onto his soft cheek. Right then, frantic footsteps echoed from the doorway. Maren rushed in, her worn canvas bag slung over her shoulder, her other hand holding a heavy burlap sack filled with crushed beer cans.
Seeing me kneeling there holding her son, seeing the overturned chairs and the elderly neighbor slowly picking herself up, Maren froze. The sack of aluminum cans slipped from her fingers, clattering loudly across the floor.
I looked up at her, my voice cracking, choked with emotion. "Maren... I am so sorry... I know everything now. I know you were framed, I know the twins are mine... I am a monster, a terrible husband, an unforgivable father..."
May you like
Maren didn't cry out. She just stood there, looking down at me with the same hollow, exhausted eyes I had seen the day before. She walked over, gently but firmly taking the baby from my arms, and laid him back in the crib next to his quietly sleeping sibling. Then, she turned to face me, her voice devastatingly calm.
"So you know the truth, Rowan. What of it? The sentence you handed down to me a year ago has already been served. I was thrown out of my own home into a rainstorm. I had to give birth in a charity ward without a single soul holding my hand. I had to watch my babies go hungry because I couldn't afford milk. Can your apology undo a single day of that living hell? Go home, Rowan. We ended the exact moment you signed those divorce papers."
