Tempted by Eden (Eden #1)

36. James

Chapter thirty-six

James

I lower my sunglasses, getting a clearer look at Cora’s house from the safety of my Aston Martin.

What a shithole.

My heart sinks. I knew it’d be bad, but this? This is worse than I imagined. A lot worse.

It’s not the first time I’ve been here, but it’s the first time I’ve really seen it. When I dropped Cora home after the police station, I was too furious to take anything in. But now, in broad daylight, it’s clear this neighborhood is from a different world—a world where time has stopped. It’s crumbling with neglect and decay. Paint peels from the walls of every house. Fences, rusted and leaning, look ready to collapse. A house across the street has plywood for windows, and the street itself is littered with trash and God knows what else.

This is where Jonathon’s son has been growing up?

Cora’s house is one of the better ones on the street, but even still, the front porch looks like it’s seconds from giving way, and the paint is flaking like dead skin.

How has she been living like this?

I run a hand through my hair, pulling on the ends. How did I not know? How did I let my nephew grow up in this? And what kind of mother could let her child live like this? My anger spikes, sharp and bitter, but beneath it, there’s a deeper emotion I don’t want to acknowledge.

A movement in the rearview mirror draws my attention. Two men are having a loud argument in the middle of the street. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but the wild gestures and unhinged eyes tell me everything I need to know. Drugs. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.

My hand drifts to my phone. Part of me wants to call in child protection services right now.

Leo doesn’t belong here.

He doesn’t deserve this.

I climb out of the car and lock the doors behind me. The Aston Martin stands out like a neon sign, and in a neighborhood like this, it’s practically begging to be keyed—or worse. I step over a used syringe in the gutter and shake my head in disgust. This place… This isn’t a home . It’s a trap. And I’ll be damned if I let Leo grow up in a place like this.

I walk through the rusted gate and knock on the door.

I’m not just angry with Cora for keeping Leo from me—I’m angry with myself for not finding him sooner. But all that anger needs to wait. I’m here for Leo today.

After a moment, the door creaks open, and there she is.

The emotions hit me all at once—anger, need, hurt. There’s no denying the pull I still feel toward her, even now. Even after everything. But she looks different. Tired. Pale. The dark circles under her eyes and the way her collarbones stick out tell me more than words ever could. She’s been suffering too.

But I can’t think about that now.

“Come in,” Cora says, her voice flat. “Leo’s in the living room.”

I follow her inside, down the hallway, glancing around at the small, worn room. Everything is mismatched and old. The furniture looks like it’s been picked up from secondhand shops, maybe even off the street. But at least it’s clean. She’s doing her best. But is her best good enough for Leo?

For the first time, I wonder what she’s gone through. Has she been fighting to keep it all together? Or was this all a choice? A calculated choice to cut me out, to raise Leo in this rundown neighborhood, when I could have given him everything?

I want to hold on to the anger. It’s simpler that way. But seeing her now, it’s not that easy. She looks to be hanging on by the thinnest thread.

Maybe she had her reasons. Maybe she thought she was doing what was best for Leo.

I clench my jaw, shaking the thought away. No. She doesn’t get a pass for this. She made her bed, and now she can lie in it. I’m not here to fix her mistakes or get dragged into her mess. I’m here for Leo. For Jonathon.

An elderly man approaches me, and Cora introduces him. “This is Anthony, my dad.”

His handshake is weak, and he looks gaunt, as if a strong gust of wind could knock him over.

“Good to meet you,” I say, keeping my tone neutral as I shake his frail hand. He gives me a tight smile.

“I spoke to Leo last night,” Cora continues. “I explained who you are… and what happened to his daddy.”

She chokes on the last word, and I look away, unable to face her grief.

I can’t deal with her pain on top of everything else.

And then I see him. Leo.

He’s sitting in front of the TV, chuckling at some silly cartoon on screen, oblivious to the strain in the room.

The breath leaves my lungs. It’s like seeing a ghost. His hair, his eyes, even the shape of his jaw—they’re all Jonathon’s. He’s a living, breathing replica of my twin. The resemblance is so strong that, for a moment, I’m transported back in time.

I blink, trying to focus on the present, but the memories flood in, uninvited.

Jon was the outgoing one, always the first to throw himself into anything that felt even remotely like freedom. He had no interest in the family business—Hayes & Hayward was always my responsibility, my path, not his. He’d laugh about it, calling me “the good son,” while he had his sights set elsewhere, determined to become an architect, to design his own world. I was the boring one, the heir to our family legacy, while Jon would be… well, Jon.

As kids, we used to switch places just for fun, just to throw everyone off. He’d always push things too far, daring me to keep up with him. He was fearless that way, like he could shape the world with just his smile. And most of the time, he did.

For a split second when I gaze at Leo, it’s like I’m looking at Jon. I see the same light in his eyes, that same adventurous spirit my brother had. I can almost hear Jon’s laugh, daring me to race him down the beach, to see who could dive into the waves first.

Fuck, I miss him.

It’s a bone-deep ache, a pain that doesn’t fade with time. Some days, I still expect him to come strolling through the door, flashing that easy grin, ready with some new scheme. But he’s not here. He’s never coming back.

And yet, in some impossible way, here he is.

Leo.

It’s like Jon’s reaching out through space and time, reminding me that a piece of him is still here. Alive.

How could Cora keep this from me? From all of us?

If Jonathon were still here, he’d want to be in Leo’s life every damn day. He’d want to be there for every scraped knee, every soccer game, every school play. And now it’s up to me to do that. To be what Jonathon would have been.

I’m not just doing this for Leo. I’m doing it for Jon. Because this boy—this little kid who’s already wormed his way into my heart—is all I have left of him. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone— anyone —take that away.

I squat down to Leo’s level, studying his face, and the familiarity makes me swallow hard. I see Jonathon in him so clearly it hurts.

“You look just like your dad, you know that?” I whisper, the words catching in my throat.

Leo stares back, his small face creasing in confusion as he shifts uncomfortably, clearly oblivious to the meaning those words carry.

I’ve already lost Jonathon once. I’m not losing him again.

Cora walks over to Leo, kneeling beside him as she turns off the TV. “Sweetheart, this is your uncle. Say hi to James.”

“Hi,” he says shyly, then beams. “I’ve never had an uncle before.”

His words cut through my pain, and for the first time today, the tension eases. “That’s right, buddy. I’m your uncle. I’m really happy to meet you. Would you like to meet your cousins? Emma and Ollie can’t wait to play with you.”

“Yay!” Leo jumps up. “Mommy, can I go? Please?”

Cora pulls him into a tight hug. “Of course, baby. Just be good for Uncle James, okay?” Her chin trembles. “See you in a couple of hours,” she whispers, embracing Leo for just a moment longer.

She’s holding back tears. I can see it in her eyes. And for a moment, I want to say something, to ask her if she’s okay, but I bite my tongue. Now isn’t the time. She hands me Leo’s backpack and I nod, leading him out the door.

We walk around the syringe in the gutter, and I glance back at Cora’s house one last time. How has Leo been living like this? I can’t wrap my head around it.

I help Leo into the booster seat I picked up earlier and settle behind the wheel. “Ready to meet the family?” I ask, turning to look at him.

“Can I have a milkshake when we get there?” he asks, his eyes lighting up.

“Of course. Any flavor you want.” His face brightens, and my heart clenches. Something as simple as a milkshake, and he acts like I’ve promised him the world.

On the way back to Rose Bay, I keep glancing at him in the rearview mirror. His excitement, his innocence—it’s heartbreaking. It’s a reminder of everything he’s been missing, everything I can give him.

***

Leo is chasing Emma and Ollie around the garden, their laughter filling the air. My parents are playing with them too, lit up as if they’ve been given a second chance at life. It’s been years since I’ve seen them this happy.

When my father chose to step down early as CEO after Jonathon’s death, it was unexpected but entirely understandable. Losing Jonathon shifted everything for him, casting a new light on what really mattered. His priorities changed almost overnight—board meetings and market shares were suddenly second to family. The people he’d once sacrificed everything for but hardly had time to enjoy now became his focus.

So he made the move to Australia, intent on being an active presence in Emma and Ollie’s lives, especially with my sister having settled here with her husband. He wanted to be there for all the little milestones—taking them to swim meets, helping with their science projects, and showing up for weekend camping trips. It was the life he’d spent years building but never truly enjoyed. I knew he needed this, a chance to finally live for himself and to be the husband and grandfather he’d always planned to become. And I couldn’t blame him for wanting that, not one bit.

Taking his place at the helm was a responsibility I didn’t take lightly, but the legacy he built? It was one I’d do anything to protect and uphold.

“Kids, ten more minutes!” I call out, but they ignore me, caught up in their game. It’s almost time to take Leo back, but I don’t want to. Leo is everything I never expected—sweet, kind, full of energy. My parents were an emotional wreck when they first laid eyes on him. Tears filled their eyes as they pulled him into a hug. A small part of Jonathon lives on in him, and for that, we’re all grateful. But with every minute that passes, my anger toward Cora burns hotter. How could she hide him from us? From me?

I take in his clothes, a size too small, and the shoes, worn down and on the verge of falling apart. I have money—enough to give Leo the world. And yet, he’s been living in a house that looks ready to collapse, in a neighborhood where syringes litter the streets.

My jaw tightens. This isn’t right. I can provide for him better than Cora ever could.

Lars hands me a glass of lemonade and flops into the chair beside me. “I see that look on your face. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

I take a sip, watching the kids play. “Leo doesn’t belong there, Lars. Not in that house. He deserves more. He should be here—with us.”

Lars raises an eyebrow. “You think just because you have money, you can swoop in and fix everything? It doesn’t work that way, James.”

“No, it doesn’t. But you didn’t see it. You didn’t see the way he’s living. That neighborhood, those streets—there’s syringes lying in the gutter! And Leo… he’s wearing clothes that don’t even fit him. Cora can’t give him what I can. How am I supposed to just walk away from that?”

Lars sighs. “I’m not saying she’s doing everything right. But taking Leo from his mother… You’re talking about ripping him out of the only life he’s known. That’s not protecting him, James. That’s traumatizing him.”

“She kept him from us, Lars. She kept Jon’s son— my nephew—from his family. What kind of mother does that? And for what? Pride? Is that worth more than Leo’s safety?”

Lars is quiet for a moment. “I get it. You’re angry, and you have every right to be. But this isn’t about punishing Cora. You think throwing lawyers at this will make it better for Leo? You really want to turn this into a fight?”

I shake my head, my resolve hardening. “I’m speaking to my lawyer. Leo deserves better.”

Lars places a hand on my arm. “James, don’t do something you’ll regret. You’re angry with Cora, and I get that. But don’t let your anger drive you to make a decision that could hurt Leo in the long run. It’ll only end in tears and heartbreak.”

“It’s already ended in tears and heartbreak,” I confess quietly.

I look back at Leo, who’s now running toward me with a huge smile on his face.

“Time to go home, buddy.” I lift him onto my lap and his small arms wrap around my neck. “Did you have fun?”

“Yes! I love it here! Can I come back? Please, Uncle James?” His face lights up, and warmth blooms in my chest—raw and protective.

“You’ll come back.” My voice is softer than I expected. I clear my throat. “You’ll come back as often as you like, Leo. I’ll make sure of it.”

He smiles, and it’s that innocence—his trust in me—that tips the scale. As I hold him close, the decision solidifies, hardening into something unshakable.

“Uncle James?” he whispers, like he’s sharing a secret. “Can I have my own room, like Ollie and Emma?”

Those words slice through me, and I swallow hard. He’s already imagining a life with us. He doesn’t understand what he’s asking, but I do. I turn to Lars, my eyebrows raised.

How can I send him back? Back to that house, that neighborhood? Back to a life where he’s missing out on everything I can give him?

Lars catches my eye, her expression serious. I know she’s telling me not to rush this, not to act out of anger, but something’s shifted. It’s not just anger anymore. It’s responsibility. It’s love. And it’s Jonathon’s blood running through Leo’s veins.

I hug Leo tightly. “Of course you can.”

I say it with finality. It’s not a promise. It’s fact. And Cora… Cora will have to understand.

She has no choice.