Chapter 7
Alison
"Mommy, look how high I can jump!"
I glanced up from my laptop to see Leo bouncing on his bed, dark hair flopping with each leap, amber eyes bright with excitement.
"Be careful, sweetheart," I called, saving the report I'd been working on. "Remember what happened last time?"
Leo giggled, recalling the small bump he'd gotten last week. "I won't fall again. I'm practicing my superpowers!"
At four years old, my son was obsessed with superheroes, specifically those who could fly or leap tall buildings. I couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm, even as I worried about his safety.
"Even superheroes have to be careful," I reminded him, walking to his room. "Now, how about we get ready for the park? You can practice your super jumps on the playground."
"Yes!" Leo pumped his small fist in the air before leaping off the bed into my arms. I caught him with an exaggerated "oof," making him laugh.
Five years of single motherhood had taught me to cherish these moments. Leo was my entire world—the unexpected blessing from a night I'd alternately tried to forget and couldn't help but remember. Every time I looked into his amber eyes—so like his father's—I was reminded of Lucas Hawkins.
But those eyes were the only thing Leo would ever know of his father. I'd made that decision five years ago, and I intended to keep it.
"Can I bring my soccer ball?" Leo asked as I helped him into his jacket.
"Sure," I agreed. "But you have to hold my hand when we cross the street, okay?"
He nodded solemnly. "I promise."
The park was only a few blocks from our townhouse in the upscale neighborhood I could now afford thanks to my position at Nexus Global.
Frankfurt had been good to us—the training program Victor had offered had turned into a full-time position, then rapid promotions until I'd reached Vice President level.
Our return to the States two weeks ago for my new role had been bittersweet, knowing we might eventually cross paths with Lucas.
So far, I'd only seen him once at the Preston Energy event, and I'd managed to keep our interaction strictly professional. He didn't know about Leo, and I intended to keep it that way.
"Race you to the swings!" Leo called, running ahead as we entered the park.
"Stay where I can see you," I reminded him, finding a bench with a good view of the playground.
The autumn morning was peaceful, crisp air carrying the scent of fallen leaves. Leo abandoned the swings for his soccer ball, practicing kicks in the open grassy area near the playground. I watched proudly as he demonstrated the skills he'd learned in his Frankfurt toddler league.
My phone buzzed with an email from Victor, confirming our meeting with Robert Preston tomorrow. The Preston Energy bid was looking promising, especially after the impression I'd made at the event.
A sudden shout jerked my attention back to Leo. To my horror, his soccer ball was rolling into the street, and Leo was darting after it without looking.
"Leo, stop!" I screamed, leaping from the bench and running toward him.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion. A car rounded the corner, the driver looking down at something—likely a phone. Leo stepped off the curb, chasing his beloved ball. The distance between us stretched like an endless chasm as I ran, knowing I wouldn't reach him in time.
"LEO!" I screamed again, my voice raw with terror.
The car swerved at the last second, missing Leo but jumping the curb several yards away. It slammed into a parked vehicle before continuing its trajectory toward an elderly man walking a small terrier.
I reached Leo, snatching him back from the street and clutching him to my chest, heart pounding in my ears. He was safe. My son was safe.
But the elderly man wasn't. The car had struck him, sending him crumpling to the sidewalk as the driver stumbled out, already dialing 911.
"Stay right here," I instructed Leo firmly, setting him on the bench. "Don't move."
I rushed to the fallen man, kneeling beside him. Blood streamed from a gash on his forehead, and his leg lay at an unnatural angle. Despite his obvious pain, his eyes were clear and alert as they found mine.
"Can you hear me?" I asked, quickly removing my scarf to press against his bleeding forehead.
"Yes," he managed weakly. "My dog..."
"He's right here," I assured him, spotting the trembling terrier hiding under a nearby bench. "He looks okay."
"Thank you," the man whispered, his voice cultured and refined despite his distress. "You have kind hands."
I maintained pressure on his wound, hearing sirens approaching. Leo crept closer, his earlier fright giving way to concern.
"Is he going to be okay, Mommy?" he asked quietly.
"The doctors will help him," I promised, hoping it was true. The elderly man appeared frail beneath his expensive suit, though his grip on my free hand was surprisingly strong.
The ambulance arrived within minutes, paramedics taking over with professional efficiency.
"Are you family?" one asked as they prepared to load the man onto a stretcher.
"No, just a bystander," I replied. "Will he be all right?"
"Head wound looks superficial, but that leg needs surgery," the paramedic assessed. "You did right with the pressing. You might want to get checked, too—exposure to blood can be risky."
I nodded, suddenly aware of my blood-soaked scarf and stained hands.
"William Black," the injured man said clearly as they lifted him. "My name is William Black. Please, my daughter should be notified. Victoria Black."
The name hit me like a physical blow. This distinguished elderly man must be Victoria's father.
"I'll bring your dog to the hospital," I found myself offering, unsure why I felt compelled to help a man connected to someone who'd caused me so much pain. "Which hospital are they taking you to?"
Relief crossed his face. "Mercy General. Thank you, my dear. What's your name?"
"Alison Miller," I answered automatically.
"Alison," he repeated thoughtfully. "I'm in your debt."
As the ambulance pulled away, I gathered Leo and the trembling dog, Winchester, according to his tag.
"We need to go to the hospital," I explained to Leo. "To return the dog and make sure that the man is okay. I also need to have a doctor check me because of the blood."
"Are you hurt?" Leo asked worriedly.
"No, sweetheart, just being careful." I took his hand and headed back toward our townhouse to retrieve my car.
Mercy General was bustling when we arrived, but the staff directed us to the surgical waiting area after I explained our connection to William Black. The nurse took a blood sample "as a precaution," and also to check compatibility with William's blood type in case he needed a transfusion.
Leo sat quietly beside me, leafing through a children's magazine while Winchester dozed at our feet. An hour passed before a doctor approached.
"Ms. Miller? I'm Dr. Reeves, Mr. Black's physician," he said, extending a firm handshake. "He's currently in surgery for his leg, but he's stable. Thank you for bringing his dog—apparently Winchester gets quite anxious when they're apart."
"Of course," I replied. "Has his family been notified?"
"Yes, though they're attending an event upstate and won't be here for several hours." He hesitated. "There's another matter I wanted to discuss with you, if you have a moment."
I glanced at Leo, who was engrossed in a magazine. "Is something wrong?"
"Not wrong, just... unexpected," Dr. Reeves said, tapping on his tablet.
"Mr. Black's condition took a sudden turn earlier.
He began to lose more blood than anticipated and required an urgent transfusion.
His blood type is extremely rare—AB negative with additional rare antigen markers—and we were struggling to find a compatible donor. "
My brow furrowed. "But he's in surgery now—you found a match?"
He looked up at me. "Yes. You."
I blinked. "Me?"
"We ran a standard blood compatibility screen, just in case—part of routine procedure given your proximity to him when he arrived.
To our surprise, not only are you the same rare blood type, but your antigen profile is an almost perfect match.
It's incredibly rare to find outside of close blood relations.
Will you be willing to donate blood so we can stabilize him? "
My stomach turned with the weight of his words. "That doesn't make any sense. I don't have any biological family—I grew up in foster care."
Dr. Reeves gave a measured nod. "Which is exactly why Mr. Black has asked us to speak with you. He knows how rare his blood type is. Only a close relative could match to this degree. He's requested your permission to run a more extensive comparison."
I stared at him, stunned. "You think... he thinks we're related?"
"I can't speak to Mr. Black's personal thoughts," Dr. Reeves said carefully, "but I can tell you this kind of match is statistically improbable between two unrelated individuals. He's asked us to proceed only if you're comfortable."
I swallowed hard, my thoughts racing. The man I'd only just met again—who'd seemed like nothing more than a distant employer with a gruff heart and a beloved dog—was now connected to me in a way I couldn't begin to understand.
"I appreciate you telling me this," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "But I'm not interested in further testing. I'll donate the blood if you believe it'll help him. My son and I will wait until Mr. Black's family arrives to take Winchester, and then we'll be on our way."
Dr. Reeves looked disappointed but nodded respectfully. "Of course. I'll inform Mr. Black once he's out of surgery. Please come with me so we can get started on the blood donation."
Later, after I had donated my blood and I knew William Black was in surgery, Leo and I sat on one of those uncomfortable hospital benches. Leo leaned against me, his head growing heavy on my shoulder.
"Is the old man going to be okay?" he asked sleepily.
"Yes, sweetheart," I murmured, gently stroking his hair. "The doctors are fixing his leg."