Ethan barely slept. The hotel bed, with its crisp sheets and fluffy pillows, felt like a trap, too perfect for a guy like him. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the word father bouncing around in his head. A billionaire who'd left him and Sarah to scrape by in Chicago while he built an empire. Ethan's stomach knotted with anger, but there was curiosity too. Who was this man, and why did he want him now?
Morning came too fast. Ethan showered, put on the same jeans and button-up shirt, and grabbed a coffee from the hotel lobby. His phone buzzed as he waited for the car Kline had promised. It was Jamal, checking in.
Yo, you in NY? What's good?
Ethan typed back: Yeah, meeting some guy today. Long story. Tell you later.
Jamal's reply was instant: Better not be a mob boss, man. Stay safe.
Ethan smirked, but the joke didn't ease the tightness in his chest. He stepped outside as a black SUV pulled up, the same driver from the airport behind the wheel. "Mr. Grey, ready?" the driver asked.
Ethan nodded, climbing in. The drive took them out of the city, past skyscrapers and into a quieter area with wide roads and green hills. After an hour, they turned into a gated estate, the kind Ethan had only seen on TV. A massive stone house loomed ahead, surrounded by perfectly trimmed lawns and trees that looked like they'd been shaped with scissors. It was a different world, one that made Ethan's faded jeans feel like a costume.
The driver parked, and Ethan stepped out, his sneakers crunching on gravel. A woman in a sharp blazer met him at the door. "Mr. Grey, I'm Claudia Vance, Mr. Langston's associate. Follow me."
Ethan followed her inside, his eyes darting over the marble floors, chandeliers, and paintings that probably cost more than his mom's apartment. Claudia was tall, her dark hair pulled tight, her smile polite but cold. She led him through a hallway to a heavy wooden door.
"Mr. Langston's waiting," she said, opening it.
Ethan stepped into a study, the kind you'd expect in an old mansion with bookshelves, leather chairs, a fireplace. A man stood by a window, looking out at the estate. He was tall, thin, with gray hair and a suit that fit like it was made for him. He turned, and Ethan's breath caught. The man's face was sharp, his eyes piercing, but there was something familiar in them, something Ethan couldn't place.
"Ethan," the man said, his voice low but steady. "I'm Victor Langston."
Ethan stood frozen, his hands in his pockets. He didn't know what he'd expected, some larger-than-life figure, maybe but Victor looked human, almost frail. "Yeah," Ethan said finally. "I'm here. What do you want?"
Victor gestured to a chair. "Sit. Please."
Ethan sat, his back stiff. Victor took the chair across from him, studying him like he was a puzzle. "You look like your mother," Victor said. "Same eyes."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Don't talk about her like you know her. You left us."
Victor's face didn't change, but his eyes flickered. "I did. And I don't expect you to forgive me. But I want to explain."
"Then explain," Ethan said, his voice sharp. "Why now? Why after twenty-eight years?"
Victor leaned back, his hands folded. "I met your mother when we were young. She was a nurse, I was starting my business. We fell in love, but my world was... complicated and dangerous. I had enemies, people who'd hurt her to get to me. When she got pregnant, I made a choice. I left to keep you both safe."
Ethan shook his head. "Safe? We struggled every day. Mom worked herself sick. You could've helped, sent money, anything."
"I did," Victor said quietly. "Not enough, I know. I sent what I could through channels, anonymously. Sarah wouldn't take it directly. She's proud, always was."
Ethan's mind flashed to the random checks that showed up sometimes, labeled as "hospital grants" or "charity." Sarah always said they were lucky breaks. Had that been Victor? He pushed the thought away. "So you're saying you watched us from afar, like some creep? And now you're sick, so you want to play dad?"
Victor coughed, a dry, rasping sound. "I'm dying, Ethan with cancer. I don't have long. I want to know you before I go. And I want you to take over Langston Enterprises."
Ethan laughed, a bitter sound. "You're joking. I'm a mechanic. I don't know anything about your world."
"You can learn," Victor said. "You're my son. You have it in you."
Ethan stood, pacing. "Your son? You don't get to call me that. You weren't there. You don't know me."
"I know more than you think," Victor said. "I've followed your life. You're smart, hardworking. You saved a man from a car accident last year. You work two jobs to help your mother. You're loyal, Ethan, that's more than most men in my world."
Ethan stopped, his chest tight. The idea that Victor had been watching him felt wrong, invasive. "Why me? You've got all this." He waved at the room. "You must have other people."
Victor's eyes darkened. "I have no one else. No other children. My company needs someone I trust. That's you."
Ethan shook his head. "You don't trust me. You don't even know me."
"I want to," Victor said. "Stay a few days. Let me show you what I've built. If you want no part of it, you can walk away. But you'll inherit everything either way. It's already in my will."
Ethan stared, his mind reeling. Billions. A company that ran the world. It was too much. "I need to think," he said finally. "This is... a lot."
Victor nodded. "Take your time. Claudia will show you to a guest room. We'll talk more tomorrow."
Ethan followed Claudia out, his legs heavy. She led him to a room down the hall, bigger than his apartment, with a view of the estate's gardens. "If you need anything, call," she said, her tone clipped, and left.
Ethan sat on the bed, his head in his hands. Victor's words echoed my son, my heir. It didn't feel real. He thought of Sarah, working her shifts, hiding this secret. He pulled out his phone and called her.
"Ethan," she answered, her voice soft. "You okay?"
"I met him," Ethan said. "Victor. He says he's my dad."
Silence. Then, "What did he tell you?"
"He said he left to protect us and that he's dying. He wants me to take over his company." Ethan's voice broke. "Why didn't you tell me, Mom?"
Sarah sighed, long and heavy. "I wanted to, Ethan. But he was gone, and I thought it was better if you didn't know. His world... it's not ours. It's dangerous."
"Dangerous how?" Ethan pressed.
"People wanted to hurt him," she said. "Business rivals, and worse. I didn't want you in that."
Ethan clenched his fist. "You should've told me. I had a right to know."
"I know," she said, her voice cracking. "I'm sorry. What are you going to do?"
"I don't know," Ethan said. "I need to figure it out."
They talked a little more, but Sarah didn't say much else about Victor. When he hung up, he felt more lost than ever. He texted Ava, needing her voice to ground him. Can we talk now? In New York, weird stuff going on.
Her reply came quick: Call me. I'm here.
He dialed, and Ava picked up on the first ring. "Ethan, what's going on? You sound stressed."
He took a breath, not sure where to start. "I'm in New York, met a guy who says he's my dad. Some rich guy, runs a big company. I don't know what to think."
Ava was quiet for a second. "Your dad? That's... wow. Are you okay?"
"No," Ethan admitted. "It's messing with my head. He wants me to take over his business, like I'm supposed to just step into his life."
"That's a lot," Ava said. "What's he like?"
"Cold," Ethan said. "But... I don't know, sad too. Says he's dying."
Ava's voice softened. "I'm sorry, Ethan. That's heavy. Do you believe him?"
"I don't know," he said. "Mom knew him, but she never told me. I feel like everyone's hiding something."
"Talk to him," Ava said. "Get the truth. You deserve that. And Ethan? You don't have to be anything you're not. You're enough."
Her words hit hard, easing the knot in his chest. "Thanks, Ava. I needed that."
"Anytime," she said. "Call me tomorrow, okay? Let me know you're alright."
"I will," he said, and hung up. He lay back, staring at the ceiling. Victor's world was pulling him in, but Ava's voice reminded him of who he was. A mechanic. A son. A guy who didn't belong here. But he couldn't walk away. Not yet.
Tomorrow, he'd face Victor again. And maybe, just maybe, he'd get the answers he needed.
Chapter 4: The Man Behind the Name
Ethan barely slept. The hotel bed, with its crisp sheets and fluffy pillows, felt like a trap, too perfect for a guy like him. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the word father bouncing around in his head. A billionaire who'd left him and Sarah to scrape by in Chicago while he built an empire. Ethan's stomach knotted with anger, but there was curiosity too. Who was this man, and why did he want him now?
Morning came too fast. Ethan showered, put on the same jeans and button-up shirt, and grabbed a coffee from the hotel lobby. His phone buzzed as he waited for the car Kline had promised. It was Jamal, checking in.
Yo, you in NY? What's good?
Ethan typed back: Yeah, meeting some guy today. Long story. Tell you later.
Jamal's reply was instant: Better not be a mob boss, man. Stay safe.
Ethan smirked, but the joke didn't ease the tightness in his chest. He stepped outside as a black SUV pulled up, the same driver from the airport behind the wheel. "Mr. Grey, ready?" the driver asked.
Ethan nodded, climbing in. The drive took them out of the city, past skyscrapers and into a quieter area with wide roads and green hills. After an hour, they turned into a gated estate, the kind Ethan had only seen on TV. A massive stone house loomed ahead, surrounded by perfectly trimmed lawns and trees that looked like they'd been shaped with scissors. It was a different world, one that made Ethan's faded jeans feel like a costume.
The driver parked, and Ethan stepped out, his sneakers crunching on gravel. A woman in a sharp blazer met him at the door. "Mr. Grey, I'm Claudia Vance, Mr. Langston's associate. Follow me."
Ethan followed her inside, his eyes darting over the marble floors, chandeliers, and paintings that probably cost more than his mom's apartment. Claudia was tall, her dark hair pulled tight, her smile polite but cold. She led him through a hallway to a heavy wooden door.
"Mr. Langston's waiting," she said, opening it.
Ethan stepped into a study, the kind you'd expect in an old mansion with bookshelves, leather chairs, a fireplace. A man stood by a window, looking out at the estate. He was tall, thin, with gray hair and a suit that fit like it was made for him. He turned, and Ethan's breath caught. The man's face was sharp, his eyes piercing, but there was something familiar in them, something Ethan couldn't place.
"Ethan," the man said, his voice low but steady. "I'm Victor Langston."
Ethan stood frozen, his hands in his pockets. He didn't know what he'd expected, some larger-than-life figure, maybe but Victor looked human, almost frail. "Yeah," Ethan said finally. "I'm here. What do you want?"
Victor gestured to a chair. "Sit. Please."
Ethan sat, his back stiff. Victor took the chair across from him, studying him like he was a puzzle. "You look like your mother," Victor said. "Same eyes."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Don't talk about her like you know her. You left us."
Victor's face didn't change, but his eyes flickered. "I did. And I don't expect you to forgive me. But I want to explain."
"Then explain," Ethan said, his voice sharp. "Why now? Why after twenty-eight years?"
Victor leaned back, his hands folded. "I met your mother when we were young. She was a nurse, I was starting my business. We fell in love, but my world was... complicated and dangerous. I had enemies, people who'd hurt her to get to me. When she got pregnant, I made a choice. I left to keep you both safe."
Ethan shook his head. "Safe? We struggled every day. Mom worked herself sick. You could've helped, sent money, anything."
"I did," Victor said quietly. "Not enough, I know. I sent what I could through channels, anonymously. Sarah wouldn't take it directly. She's proud, always was."
Ethan's mind flashed to the random checks that showed up sometimes, labeled as "hospital grants" or "charity." Sarah always said they were lucky breaks. Had that been Victor? He pushed the thought away. "So you're saying you watched us from afar, like some creep? And now you're sick, so you want to play dad?"
Victor coughed, a dry, rasping sound. "I'm dying, Ethan with cancer. I don't have long. I want to know you before I go. And I want you to take over Langston Enterprises."
Ethan laughed, a bitter sound. "You're joking. I'm a mechanic. I don't know anything about your world."
"You can learn," Victor said. "You're my son. You have it in you."
Ethan stood, pacing. "Your son? You don't get to call me that. You weren't there. You don't know me."
"I know more than you think," Victor said. "I've followed your life. You're smart, hardworking. You saved a man from a car accident last year. You work two jobs to help your mother. You're loyal, Ethan, that's more than most men in my world."
Ethan stopped, his chest tight. The idea that Victor had been watching him felt wrong, invasive. "Why me? You've got all this." He waved at the room. "You must have other people."
Victor's eyes darkened. "I have no one else. No other children. My company needs someone I trust. That's you."
Ethan shook his head. "You don't trust me. You don't even know me."
"I want to," Victor said. "Stay a few days. Let me show you what I've built. If you want no part of it, you can walk away. But you'll inherit everything either way. It's already in my will."
Ethan stared, his mind reeling. Billions. A company that ran the world. It was too much. "I need to think," he said finally. "This is... a lot."
Victor nodded. "Take your time. Claudia will show you to a guest room. We'll talk more tomorrow."
Ethan followed Claudia out, his legs heavy. She led him to a room down the hall, bigger than his apartment, with a view of the estate's gardens. "If you need anything, call," she said, her tone clipped, and left.
Ethan sat on the bed, his head in his hands. Victor's words echoed my son, my heir. It didn't feel real. He thought of Sarah, working her shifts, hiding this secret. He pulled out his phone and called her.
"Ethan," she answered, her voice soft. "You okay?"
"I met him," Ethan said. "Victor. He says he's my dad."
Silence. Then, "What did he tell you?"
"He said he left to protect us and that he's dying. He wants me to take over his company." Ethan's voice broke. "Why didn't you tell me, Mom?"
Sarah sighed, long and heavy. "I wanted to, Ethan. But he was gone, and I thought it was better if you didn't know. His world... it's not ours. It's dangerous."
"Dangerous how?" Ethan pressed.
"People wanted to hurt him," she said. "Business rivals, and worse. I didn't want you in that."
Ethan clenched his fist. "You should've told me. I had a right to know."
"I know," she said, her voice cracking. "I'm sorry. What are you going to do?"
"I don't know," Ethan said. "I need to figure it out."
They talked a little more, but Sarah didn't say much else about Victor. When he hung up, he felt more lost than ever. He texted Ava, needing her voice to ground him. Can we talk now? In New York, weird stuff going on.
Her reply came quick: Call me. I'm here.
He dialed, and Ava picked up on the first ring. "Ethan, what's going on? You sound stressed."
He took a breath, not sure where to start. "I'm in New York, met a guy who says he's my dad. Some rich guy, runs a big company. I don't know what to think."
Ava was quiet for a second. "Your dad? That's... wow. Are you okay?"
"No," Ethan admitted. "It's messing with my head. He wants me to take over his business, like I'm supposed to just step into his life."
"That's a lot," Ava said. "What's he like?"
"Cold," Ethan said. "But... I don't know, sad too. Says he's dying."
Ava's voice softened. "I'm sorry, Ethan. That's heavy. Do you believe him?"
"I don't know," he said. "Mom knew him, but she never told me. I feel like everyone's hiding something."
"Talk to him," Ava said. "Get the truth. You deserve that. And Ethan? You don't have to be anything you're not. You're enough."
Her words hit hard, easing the knot in his chest. "Thanks, Ava. I needed that."
"Anytime," she said. "Call me tomorrow, okay? Let me know you're alright."
"I will," he said, and hung up. He lay back, staring at the ceiling. Victor's world was pulling him in, but Ava's voice reminded him of who he was. A mechanic. A son. A guy who didn't belong here. But he couldn't walk away. Not yet.
Tomorrow, he'd face Victor again. And maybe, just maybe, he'd get the answers he needed.