Andrew’s POV —
The drive over to my father’s house was a blur. My knuckles were white around the steering wheel, and every red light, every pedestrian, felt like it was mocking me, slowing me down while my rage burned hotter. I gripped the envelope containing the DNA results, the weight of it anchoring the storm of emotions that had been building since yesterday.
Anger. Betrayal. Confusion. Hurt. Every one of them punched me in the chest, twisting my stomach, making me wish I could erase every memory I had of him—my father, or the man I had been told was my father.
I slammed the car door behind me.
The house loomed before me, pristine and cold, the manicured lawn a stark contrast to the chaos I felt inside. I walked up the steps, hand trembling—not with fear, but with a dangerous, coil
