Potter.
My mother’s maiden name. The pieces fell into place with chilling clarity, sharp as glass.
The eyes. The jawline. The smirk.
That wasn’t Gerald Potter.
That was Ryan Blackwood.
My brother.
**Roman**
As I drew closer, he turned to face me, his lips curling into that infuriating smirk that suggested he had been anticipating my arrival.
But deep down, I knew that wasn’t the case.
That bastard always wore that crocodile grin, a facade that never failed to irk me.
“Ah, well, well. Look who decided to grace us with his presence. What’s the matter, Philly too dull for you? Or did someone whisper sweet nothings about curves and a five-year-old with your eyes?”
“Ryan.” I spat his name like it was venom on my tongue.
He raised an eyebrow, his demeanor as calm and cocky as ever. “Hello, little brother.”
I instinctively stepped back as he advanced, arms outstretched in a mock embrace.
“What? No hug for big bro? I’m wounded.”
The hospital lobby around us blurred into a haze, the muted shuffle of nurses and the incessant ringing of phones fading into the background, drowned out by the thunderous roar in my ears. My fists clenched tightly at my sides. It had been years since I last laid eyes on him-not since Mom’s funeral.
And now, here he stood, masquerading as someone else, attempting to snatch a five-year-old girl from her mother in a sterile hospital waiting room.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I barked, dragging him to a more secluded corner, away from prying eyes and ears.
“I could very well ask you the same question.”
“Gerald Potter?” I hissed, incredulous. “That’s the name you picked?”
Ryan shrugged, that same smug tilt to his chin that had driven me insane during our teenage years.
He hadn’t changed in the slightest. Not after Mom passed away. Not now. He still wore his arrogance like a suit of armor, as if the world owed him something.
“I needed something clean. Something that wouldn’t raise any red flags. Besides, Gerald sounds… safe, don’t you think?”
“You son of a-“
“Don’t cause a scene, Roman. We’re in a hospital, remember?” He tilted his head just enough for me to catch the glint of a security camera watching our every move. Always calculating. Always under scrutiny.
My voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “You have no right to be here. Emily isn’t your property to stake a claim on, and Alyssa sure as hell doesn’t want anything to do with you.”
“She doesn’t have to want anything,” Ryan replied coolly, his confidence unwavering. “She carried my child. That gives me rights, Roman. Legal rights. I can utilize Emily whenever I choose.”
My stomach twisted in disgust. “You’re sick.”
“We both are.”
“Out of all the scum that could have been her father, it just had to be the worst of them all. How you deceived her.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? You’re supposed to be in Philadelphia. Why are you here, playing daddy for her?”
“I don’t owe you any explanations. Not after you betrayed your own family.”
His fingers trembled slightly before he hastily shoved them into his pockets. “I’m here to get my kid. Mind telling me what you’re doing in New Hope with my daughter’s mother?”
I seized him by the collar, itching to disrupt that smug composure he exuded.
He merely grinned, unfazed.
“And you’re supposed to be home with Charlotte. Mind telling me if your wife knows you have a child with another woman?”
Ryan chuckled, dark and dismissive. “Would it really make a difference? You know how it is-powerful men, messy appetites.” He pushed off the wall and stepped closer, invading my space. “But here’s the kicker-you’ll love this. Alyssa wasn’t supposed to keep the baby. She blindsided me with that. Just like she blindsided you with her charm and that doe-eyed desperation.”
My fists clenched tighter. “You didn’t want her then, so you shouldn’t want her now. Emily belongs with her mother.”
Ryan’s gaze flicked to the tension in my arms. “Touchy. Are we playing hero now? Or just feeling guilty?”
I didn’t respond. The silence between us spoke volumes.
“Why now?” I finally asked, my voice low and steady. “What’s your endgame?”
Ryan arched an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“A girl falls into a pool, and suddenly your name is on everyone’s lips. Imagine my surprise-my own daughter almost dies, and some suit from Philly shows up like he’s the fucking father.”
“What are you rambling about?”
“You didn’t think I wouldn’t find out? Chloe has a bigger mouth than you’d think.”
Of course. Chloe.
My jaw locked in frustration. “I’m not letting you take Alyssa’s daughter away from her.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.