Zachary’s POV
I stared at my mom, heart pounding, trying to make sense of what I’d just heard.
Asher isn’t my mom’s son?
“What the hell is going on?” I asked, my voice low, tight with confusion. “Asher… isn’t your son?”
Zara let out a sharp, amused chuckle. “Looks like you’ve got some explaining to do,” she said to my mom, her voice laced with mockery. She gripped my mom’s chin and yanked her face toward hers. My mom didn’t resist. She just trembled—visibly shaken, terrified.
I’d never seen her like this before.
“Mom,” I said again, stepping closer, my voice rising with frustration. “Talk to me. Say something.”
She looked at me then—really looked at me. And in her eyes, I saw fear… and something else. Guilt.
“I was going to tell you,” she whispered, voice shaking. “I wanted to wait
