The CEO's Secret Baby

#6 - She's Mine?

Grayson

Name: Elaine Murdoch.

I wiped my palms—damp, annoyingly so—on my trousers, gaze fixed on the folder in front of me. More precisely, on the amber eyes staring back at me from the photograph clipped to the front.

One picture of Elaine. That was all it took. She looked polished—composed. No trace of the chaos I had criticised her for. That alone told me enough: whatever I'd find inside would shake my world just as her presence had—or even worse.

I was still recovering from the too-short interaction we'd had in my office. I'd wanted nothing more than to follow her when she walked out, to demand answers—but I didn't chase storms unprepared. Information was control. And with Elaine, I needed control.

"It has been an interesting six years." Rodger's voice cut through the speaker. I looked at his face on the laptop screen. He was smiling. It didn't comfort me. It rarely did.

I flipped the folder—and lost my breath.

One more picture. That was all it took.

Claire Murdoch.

Age: six.

Damn.

I stared at a beautiful photo of a little girl with the most disarming, toothy grin. A few teeth were missing, but still—undeniably the cutest grin I'd ever seen. At least, that's what I thought.

Reaching for it, I realised my hands were shaking. Something twisted in my chest. I couldn't look away. Picture after picture, I was drawn in—something sparking deep inside me. Even if it was just a picture. Even if she wasn't mine.

She wasn't mine...

A wave of unexpected loss caught in my throat, threatening to drown me. But then I found myself held captive by little amber eyes with speckles of green in them. Their beauty warming me from the inside out. She was such a beauty. They really had made her beautiful.

They.

Elaine and... whoever the bastard was. Jealousy slid through my veins like poison as I flipped the page, looking for his face.

I stopped, frozen on one more picture.

Mother: Elaine Murdoch.

Not so put together. Cables stuck out of her in places, her hair mussed, tears trailing down her cheeks as she peered down at a precious bundle in her arms.

She was beautiful.

There were more details—impressive ones. Big-name clients, accolades, credentials—everything that made her a top contender for the Frost Renew contract.

But it wasn't her résumé that had me reeling.

It was the personal detail quietly sucking the life out of me.

She was a mother...

With some guy. Who was apparently not in the picture?

I blinked at the blank line where his name should have been. The douche. Had he knocked her up and just disappeared on her?

"You're one to talk," my mind shot back.

Okay, so I wasn't a saint towards Elaine either, but I had my reasons. Besides, this was about a child.

My eyes fell back on Elaine's daughter, an irrational need washing over me to protect her, to protect them both... from him.

I dragged my gaze from the picture I was holding and looked at Rodger. I needed him to find this guy. "What are the odds—"

"That she's yours?"

"Yes—wait, what?" I blinked at my P.I. I had wanted to ask what the odds were of finding this guy... not that. Why would I even go there?

I had felt many things looking at that little girl. None of those were fatherly. Because she wasn't mine. Wait, did one feel fatherly instincts?

I gawked at Rodger, but he merely gave me the 'you've got to figure it out son' look.

My gaze flicked back to the picture and I saw it as clear as day. I realised why I'd felt the familiar warmth, the irrational need to protect. Claire Murdoch reminded me of the twins.

The Frost gene was right there.

I snapped my head up to meet Rodger's gaze. He'd been watching me the entire time, waiting. Not to talk though his report.

To let me figure it out.

"She's mine?" I rasped, surging to my feet.

Rodger leaned forward. "Congratulations, son."

Congratulations? That meant she was mine. Right?

My world tilted.

My heart pounded.

My legs gave out beneath me.

I was a father?

I was a father...

Jesus.

"You okay, son?" Rodger's voice sounded far away. I barely heard it over the single thought echoing in my head:

I was a father. Had been for six years.

Damn.

I stared at the folder.

Mother's Name: Elaine Murdoch

Father's Name:

Blank.

My fists clenched.

That blank space should have had my name on it.

I was the bastard who hadn't been there.

Except— I hadn't known.

"Why didn't she tell me?" I whispered, feeling the familiar dark shadows hovering, ready to grant me their answer. I shoved them back—barely.

"Why would she keep my child from me?"

Rodger gave me a long unreadable look before sighing. "I don't know, son. But I'll say this—if that little angel was mine, and I were her, I'd have cashed in big by now."

I froze. "What are you insinuating?" I growled—though I knew already.

I'd had enough females want to get knocked up by me. A few had even faked pregnancies and demanded I marry them or write a big, fat paycheck to sort them for life. Unfortunately for them, it had always been my personal rule that there would be no action if I didn't wrap it up.

I was aware mistakes could happen too, so paternity tests were my second level of protection from all the vultures.

I hadn't considered Elaine a vulture at the time, but had wrapped it up all the same for that one time, except... now I wasn't so sure I had.

My gaze darted back to the folder.

My pulse skipped.

I knew damned well what Rodger was insinuating.

It was never about the money.

Not with her.

Son of a—