Chapter 16 Theo
THEO
Idon't remember walking out of the house.
I don't remember grabbing my keys or slamming the door or the way my foot hit the gas pedal like I was trying to punish the car.
All I know is that I'm here now, parked on a ridge overlooking the ocean, engine still running, music off, lights off, heart racing like I'm about to go to war.
I close my eyes, and all I see is the woman who just shattered whatever was left of my life telling me something I never thought she would.
A son.
I have a fucking son.
We had a few conversations about kids in the months leading up to her leaving.
I told her it was a mixed bag. Before meeting her, I didn't really want kids, or at least I didn't think about them. Children—shit, even love—was too messy, made you too vulnerable. But she'd already made me believe in love, so who knows.
Xander.
The name pops into my mind. I told her that if I were to have children, I wanted a son, and I wanted him to have a strong name. Naming him after a conqueror like Alexander the Great would be perfect. She wanted Alexandros, but I told her no—it had to be Xander.
"Fuck!" I slam my palm against the steering wheel. The horn blares into empty air.
What does he look like? Does he have my eyes? My chin? How old is he?
I don't know anything.
All I know is that there's someone out there who carries half of my blood, and I didn't even know he was alive.
Jesus. I've missed everything. First steps. First words. Birthdays. Everything.
She took that from me.
But did she? My father knew. My own father threatened her, forced her away. Made her believe I wouldn't choose her—choose them—over unspoken family arrangements. Family business.
Would I have?
"Goddamnit!" I slam my fist into the dashboard this time. Pain shoots up my arm, but it doesn't come close to touching the agony inside.
I think of all the ways I looked for her. The money spent. The leads that went nowhere. The nights I drank myself numb trying to forget her face.
And all along, she was raising my child. Alone.
Because my father decided.
I go back and forth, my mind unable to make up if she stole him from me or my father did.
No matter what, he carries some of this.
He destroyed everything. Took away the only woman I've ever loved. Denied me my son.
And for what? The family? The business? Some fucking alliance?
For years, I've helped carry this family. Done his bidding without questions. Fuck, I'm out here trying to avenge his death.
And all along, he'd already betrayed me worse than anyone.
I lean back in the seat, rubbing my forehead as if it will wipe away my swirling thoughts.
"I should never have let her in," I say to the empty car. "I should've known better."
And yet, if I hadn't, would I ever have known? Would I have lived my entire life without knowing I had a son out there?
An image forms in my mind: a little boy with my eyes. Maybe with her smile. Walking. Talking. Growing up without me.
What's his name?
The question circles back, lodging itself like a bullet in my chest.
I close my eyes and see Stassi the day we met. The way she looked at me across my crowded Athens bar making a tongue-in-cheek joke about the napkins.
With her, I thought I knew who I was then. The strategist. The middle brother. My father's most loyal son.
Now, I feel reduced to a father who's never held his child.
I still can't believe she left with my son still inside her.
She let me grieve her. Hate her. Miss her.
And all this time, she was protecting something I didn't even know I'd lost.
She could've told me.
She should've told me.
But my father made that impossible.
Shit, I'm so confused. So lost. Who's at fault? Who do I blame? Her? My father? Me?
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I ignore it. It buzzes again. And again. Someone's calling, but I can't talk to anyone right now.
Instead, I reach for my wallet. Behind my ID, there's a photo of her I kept. Stassi on the balcony of my Chicago house. Her dark hair catching the breeze. She didn't know I took it. One of those rare moments when she was just mine.
I trace her outline with my thumb.
She had my son. She raised him alone.
And she came back.
The realization hits me. She could have stayed hidden forever. Could have kept him from me permanently. But she came back, knowing I might hate her. Knowing I might never forgive her.
Granted, it's because she's in trouble. But clearly it's not just her trouble anymore—it's ours.
The phone buzzes again. This time I pull it out, ready to throw it out the damn window, but the name on the screen stops me.
Ares.
My brother. The only person who might understand this betrayal.
But even as my thumb hovers over the answer button, I know I can't tell him. Not yet. Not until I understand it myself.
I switch the phone off completely and toss it onto the passenger seat.
I sigh and realize all the pain she's caused me was her trying to protect me.
That's what fucks me up the most.
Because I would've chosen her. Every single time.
I sit in the silence.
I don't know how long I'm there—ten minutes, an hour, who the fuck knows—before the stillness starts to eat at me.
I can't stay away.
I can't sit here and do nothing while the mother of my child is sitting alone in a room down the hall from mine, probably thinking I've abandoned her for good.
Fuck that.
She doesn't get to be the only one who makes decisions.
I throw the car into gear and peel out of the dirt, tires spitting stones in my wake.
I'm halfway back to the estate before I even realize what I'm going to say.
And by the time I pull into the circular driveway, I know one thing for sure—
There's going to be no more secrets. No more avoiding things to keep the other person safe.
I walk inside and head straight for her room.
I stop at her door.
It's closed.
I don't knock.
I barge in.
She's sitting on the edge of the bed, her back straight but tense, like she's been expecting me. Her hands are folded in her lap.
She stands the moment she sees me.
Her eyes are swollen. Her lips part, but no words come out.
I stare at her.
Long and hard.
"You lied to me," I say.
"I didn't—"
"You didn't tell me." I take another step. "You kept my son from me."
She swallows. "I know. And I'm sorry. I was scared—"
"Of me?" I cut in. "Of my family? My father? Or just of what it would mean to have stayed and been with me?"
"All of it."
I nod slowly.
"You had no right."
"I know."
"You took so much from me. You let me live like he didn't exist."
She's crying again. I hate it. I hate that it still works on me. That even now, some part of me wants to pull her into my arms and pretend none of this happened.
"How old is he?" I ask, arms crossed now, because I won't allow myself to comfort her. Not yet.
"Three and a half," she says, wiping her eyes.
"Does he know about me?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "Not in the way he should," she says through tears.
"What the hell does that mean? Does he even know I'm alive?"
She nods. "Yes. He thinks you're real sick, so he can't see you."
"Has he… has he even seen a picture of me?"
"Yes. The one of us from the night we did that dinner by the Acropolis. You looked so handsome," she says and stops to wipe her eyes, "you thought it was so touristy, but it was one of my favorite nights with you."
"Why?" I ask before I can think. I shouldn't even care in this moment.
"Because I'm pretty sure that was the night he was conceived."
"Jesus Christ," I say, rubbing my forehead.
"I'm sorry," she says and clears her throat. "He looks like you. Same eyes. Same frown when he concentrates. He's smart, Theo. So smart. And brave."
I clench my teeth together to fight, or maybe suppress, the rise of emotions in me.
"Do you… do you have a picture of him?"
"Yes," she says with a smile and runs to her phone and brings it to me. "Here."
When my eyes land on her screen and see the kid—my son—I have to sit down.
He looks like me. Every baby picture I've ever seen of me.
"Holy shit," I say.
"See?" she says, sitting down but making sure not too close to me. "Just like you."
I stare at the photo, and it feels like I'm looking at a smaller version of me. My mind can't comprehend it. I take a moment and just look at him. I don't even think I blink.
"What's his name?" I ask, without looking away.
"Xander."
I turn to her.
"What?"
"Xander," she repeats and wipes away more tears. "I remembered."
Few events in my life have caused me to see the world sideways. The day I found out my father was killed. The night my mom died of cancer.
And now this.
"Xander," I say in a low tone, looking back at the image of him. The name knocks the wind out of me as I say it.
"Where is he?"
"He's safe."
"Where?" I growl.
"Don't worry. I'm protecting him."
"You think I wouldn't?" I snap. "You don't get to decide that alone. Not anymore," I say, fury rising in my voice.
I stand and look down at her.
"You made me believe love wasn't worth the risk. And now you want to tell me there's a child out there who shares my blood, and I'm just supposed to be okay with not knowing where he is?"
"No. I just wanted to ease you into it. I didn't know how you'd react. I didn't know if you'd even want him."
My stomach twists.
"I may not have known how to be a father, Stassi," I say. "But I would've learned. I would've fought for him. For you. You never gave me that chance."
"Your father never gave you that chance," she says, meeting my gaze.
I nod. "Well, he's dead, so not much I can do."
"It wasn't all me. I didn't want…" she trails off.
I know she's right. But I can only navigate so much. My emotions and feelings are blending together, and since she's right in front of me—it's all her fault.
"Where is he?" I ask, my voice rough.
She looks at me for a moment and then answers.
"With my friend Marlena in Los Angeles."
"I want to see him," I say. "As soon as possible."
She nods. "Yes. Yes, of course."
"I don't want to wait, Stassi.”
"I've already lost three and a half years of his life," I say and step back and turn around. "Just gone."
"I'm sorry," she chokes out. "I'm so sorry, Theo. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was protecting him. Protecting you. I just… fuck, I fucked up."
I turn back to her.
"But why now?" I ask, remembering there's so much more. "After all this time, why come back now?"
She takes a ragged breath and steadies herself.
"Because someone found us," her voice shakes. "And I can't keep him safe alone anymore."