Chapter 32 Cal
CAL
The monitors bathe my office in blue light, lines of code scrolling across three screens while I dig through the financial records Charles requested.
Martin Chen’s transactions paint a picture I already know—desperation wrapped in careful planning, a father trying to save his daughter the only way he knows how.
My phone buzzes. Charles’s name flashes across the screen with a message: My office. Now.
I save my work and head upstairs, my mind already running through possible reasons for the summons. More embezzlement? Issues with one of the clubs? Territory dispute?
Charles’s office is all dark wood and leather, windows overlooking the city like a throne room surveying its kingdom. He’s standing by the bar, pouring himself something amber that’s probably older than I am.
“Cal. Close the door.”
I do, then settle into one of the chairs across from his desk. “What’s up?”
He takes a drink, studying me over the rim of his glass. “Have you been able to track down the father of my nephews?”
The question hits like a fist to the solar plexus. My expression stays neutral—years of practice, years of being the charming one who never lets anyone see the machinery working underneath—but internally I’m scrambling.
“I didn’t know I was supposed to be looking,” I say easily, buying time. “Parker hasn’t mentioned wanting help with that.”
Charles sets his glass down with a soft click.
“Parker doesn’t tell us a lot of things.
She’s always been secretive—about the boys, about their father, about her life in California.
” He moves around the desk, leaning against it.
“And I get it. She wanted independence. Wanted to build something separate from all this.” He gestures vaguely at the office, the building, the empire.
“But she’s back now. And she doesn’t seem to understand the optics surrounding her.
..dissolved relationship with the family business and her sudden emergence after so many years of silence. ”
I keep my face carefully blank. “Optics.”
“I don’t want to be that guy,” Charles continues, and there’s genuine conflict in his voice.
“I don’t want to invade her privacy or make her feel like we don’t trust her.
But I need to ensure that she and the boys are safe from potential scrutiny.
The old guard is already talking—single mother, disappeared for six years, comes back with twins and no father in sight.
If there’s something problematic about their paternity, something that could be used against her or them, I need to know about it. ”
The logic is sound. The reasoning makes sense. And it makes me want to put my fist through his face.
“I get it,” I say instead. “But Charles, if there are any clues—bloodwork, communications from family courts—they’d be sealed. Medical records are protected. Court documents involving minors even more so.”
It’s a weak excuse and we both know it.
Charles snorts a laugh. “Since when has that ever been a problem for you?”
Fair point. I’ve hacked into systems with ten times the security. Cracked encryptions that were supposed to be unbreakable. Medical records and family court documents are child’s play compared to some of the things I’ve accessed for this organization.
But this is different. This is Parker. This is my son.
“Did you talk to Parker about this?” I ask, stalling.
He waves the question off like it’s irrelevant. “I’ll deal with Parker if it comes up. Right now I need you to find what you can. I need to know who the father of my nephews is, especially if she plans to eventually marry someone like Ryan Matthews.”
The name lands like a grenade in the conversation.
“Why is that even a question?” My voice comes out sharper than intended.
“She agreed to go with him to the gala this weekend.” Charles picks up his drink again, swirling the liquid.
“If it works out, I assume they’ll date.
Eventually marry. Ryan’s been hinting that he’s been in contact with Parker while she was away—helping her out, checking in.
Hell, maybe he’s the father and he’s just trying to help her save face. ”
The words keep coming and each one feels like a blade sliding between my ribs.
“He was away for so long for school,” Charles continues, oblivious to the way my hands have clenched into fists.
“It’s not that big of a stretch that they could have crossed paths before she became pregnant.
And he’s seemed very interested in her since she returned.
Maybe there’s history there we don’t know about. ”
My mind is racing, calculating, spiraling through possibilities I don’t want to consider. Ryan Matthews. Ryan fucking Matthews could be Noah’s father? Or Liam’s?
No. I was there that night. I know what happened. I know one of those boys is mine.
But she kept them a secret. She’s dodged every question about their paternity, deflected every attempt to dig deeper.
What if there’s a reason for that beyond just protecting them from Dominic?
What if she doesn’t know which one is mine?
What if she does know and she’s decided I’m not fit to be a father?
What if Ryan Matthews has been in the picture all along and I’m just the mistake she made one night six years ago?
“I’ll tell you when I have something,” I say, my voice carefully controlled. “But I’ll be working from home for the rest of the day. I can run what I need to on Noah and Liam from my home workstation.”
Charles nods, satisfied. “Good. Keep me updated.” He pauses. “And Cal? This stays between us for now. I don’t want Parker feeling like we’re going behind her back until we have actual information.”
Too late for that.
“Sure thing.” I stand, heading for the door.
“Oh, and I’ll see you at home later,” Charles adds. “I just need to confirm some things for the gala this weekend.”
I make some noncommittal sound and get the fuck out of his office before I do something stupid.
The drive home is a blur. My hands grip the steering wheel tight enough that my knuckles go white, my jaw clenched so hard my teeth ache. Thoughts spiral through my head like debris in a tornado—chaotic, destructive, impossible to organize.
Ryan Matthews.
The name keeps circling back, each repetition like a punch to the gut.
She agreed to go with him to the gala. She’s been dodging questions about paternity. He’s been “helping her out” and “checking in” while she was in California. He’s interested in her now.
What if Charles is right? What if Ryan is the father—of one or both boys—and this whole situation is more complicated than I thought? What if that night six years ago was just a mistake, a moment of weakness, and Ryan has been the constant in her life all along?
But no. That doesn’t make sense. Parker wouldn’t have reacted the way she did to us if Ryan was in the picture. Wouldn’t have stayed that first weekend, wouldn’t have looked at me the way she does, wouldn’t have—
My phone rings. Jace’s name flashes across the car’s display.
“Yeah.”
“Where are you?” His voice is tense.
“Driving home. Charles just...” I exhale sharply. “We need to talk. All three of us.”
“What happened?”
“Not over the phone. I’ll be there in ten.”
I disconnect before he can press, my mind already spinning through scena rios, calculating next moves, trying to figure out how to handle this without losing everything.