Chapter two
1227 Words
Grayson
Grayson Vance didn’t like being lied to.
Especially not by his own security team.
He stood outside the café, staring down at the soft-painted windows and rustic wooden sign that read The Elm Tree Café, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
That was her. No question.
The same girl from the hotel. The one he’d spent four years trying to forget—until a little girl with his eyes showed up in a preschool photo during a background check.
Grayson still wasn’t sure what made him stop and look at that particular file. It was standard protocol. Every employee connected to a new real estate acquisition got screened—especially when the company was buying up property in a small town like Maple Grove.
But then he saw it. A routine file. Juliette Hart. Unmarried. Local café job. One dependent listed.
Aurora Hart.
And the photo attached—a preschool newsletter—hit him like a freight train.
The little girl was a mirror of his own childhood face. Those same eyes. Same chin. Even the serious frown that came with focus. He’d stared at it for hours, trying to come up with an explanation that didn’t make his gut twist.
There was only one.
She was his.
And now, after one brief, chaotic conversation, he was sure.
Juliette Hart wasn’t a liar. She hadn’t denied it outright. She’d just panicked. Lied by omission. Covered up.
But he’d seen the flicker of fear in her face.
She remembered that night too.
Grayson slid into the back of his black SUV and slammed the door. His driver turned slightly. “Back to the hotel, sir?”
“No. Drive around the town. Slowly.”
“Yes, sir.”
He loosened his tie and leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes for a second.
That night at the Chancellor Grand had been a blur.
He remembered the meeting beforehand—tense, full of legal threats and hostile investors. Someone had poured him a drink to take the edge off. And after that, everything unraveled.
He remembered feeling like his head was underwater.
Then, the knock at the door.
Then her.
He hadn’t known her name. He barely remembered her face. But there had been softness in the way she looked at him. Not like the women who threw themselves at him for power or headlines. Not like anyone who wanted anything from him.
That night had felt... different.
In the morning, he left without a word. Not out of cruelty. Out of guilt, shame. Because something about the whole thing had felt wrong—like he’d been drugged. Out of control.
His father had found out and made sure it was buried. No names. No headlines. No mess.
Now the past had caught up.
And it had a name: Aurora.
He pulled the card from his wallet again and flipped it between his fingers. Juliette Hart. Her life was right here, in this sleepy little town. Far from the spotlight.
Why hadn’t she told him?
Why raise his daughter in secret?
Grayson wasn’t perfect—he’d never claimed to be. But he would’ve stepped up. He wasn’t his father. He didn’t abandon responsibility.
This wasn’t just about Juliette anymore. It was about the little girl who shared his DNA. A child being raised without knowing who her father was.
That was something he couldn’t ignore.
His phone buzzed.
Walker Vance: Board meeting Friday. You’re late on the Arizona numbers. Focus, Grayson.
Grayson stared at the message. Typical. His father didn’t care about anything but business.
But Grayson was done playing heir to an empire he didn’t even believe in.
This was bigger.
He tapped out a reply:
I’m handling something. I’ll send the numbers when I’m ready.
Then he opened his notes app and wrote one word:
DNA test.
The SUV curved down Maple Grove’s main road, a slow-moving stretch lined with bakeries, hardware shops, and a tiny bookstore that looked like it hadn’t changed in fifty years.
Grayson stared out the window, his thoughts anything but calm.
He should have felt angry.
Instead, he felt something closer to panic.
He had a daughter.
How many birthdays had he missed? Her first steps? Her first words?
And Juliette—he didn’t know whether to be furious or stunned. What kind of woman kept something like that from a man?
But he remembered the way she looked at him this morning—tired, scared, cornered. Not like someone calculating or malicious. Like a mother trying to protect something fragile.
Maybe she’d thought he wouldn’t want the child. Or that he wouldn’t believe her.
Worse—maybe she thought he’d try to take the little girl away.
His jaw tightened.
God, he’d become the kind of man women were afraid of.
“Pull over,” he said abruptly.
The driver slowed to a stop along the curb just ahead of a brick library with a small town hall next to it. Grayson stepped out and walked straight toward the public records office. If he wanted answers, he had to start somewhere.
Inside, the place smelled like old paper and lemon-scented wood polish. A woman at the counter looked up over half-moon glasses.
“Can I help you, sir?”
Grayson gave her a practiced smile. “Yes. I’m looking for a birth certificate. For a child born about three years ago. The mother’s name is Juliette Hart.”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “Are you family?”
“In a way,” he said, smoothly. “I just need to confirm a few details for legal reasons. I can pay a processing fee, of course.”
She hesitated, then nodded and typed something into her ancient-looking computer. A few moments later, she slid a printout across the counter.
Grayson’s hand trembled as he picked it up.
Name: Aurora Grace Hart
Date of Birth: March 22
Mother: Juliette Elaine Hart
Father: ———
The line beside “Father” was blank.
His chest hollowed out.
She hadn’t even listed him. Hadn’t even named him.
It felt like erasure. Like he hadn’t existed in his own child’s life at all.
Grayson folded the paper slowly and tucked it into his coat pocket.
As he stepped back outside, the bright sunlight was almost blinding. The wind had picked up, rustling through the trees, scattering dry leaves across the sidewalk.
He pulled out his phone again.
“Sophie,” he said when his assistant picked up. “I need you to do something for me. Quietly.”
“Of course. What is it?”
“I want full records on Juliette Hart. Anything you can find—school, work, relatives, financials. I also want a private lab on standby to run a paternity test. Discreetly.”
There was a pause. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
He hung up and stood still for a moment, watching the town move around him.
He could walk away. Let Juliette keep her secret. Let Aurora grow up never knowing who he was.
But that would make him no better than his own father—a man who threw money at problems and disappeared when things got complicated.
Grayson Vance didn’t run.
He fought.
And this time, he was fighting for something that mattered.
- Writer
