Meanwhile, Aiden’s car came to a stop in front of his mansion. He alighted tiredly, shoulders heavy, and walked inside.
The moment he entered, his eyes caught James and Arthur at the dining table, both of them laughing as they played a game on James’ phone.
Aiden stood still, his gaze lingering on Arthur. The boy’s laughter was light, his smile radiant and the resemblance was undeniable. His features mirrored Aiden’s so strongly it made his chest ache.
Cassia had told him the child was dead. That Arthur wasn’t his. He’d tried convincing himself to let it go, to stop wishing and to stop imagining… but every time he saw Arthur, his heart leapt in recognition, a pull he couldn’t explain.
“Maybe my mind is just playing tricks on me,” he thought, running a hand through his hair. But deep do
