Blood and Tears

"A designer?" Gideon’s deep voice carried a solemn, almost guarded edge as he repeated the word. His sharp amber eyes remained locked on the boy sitting across the opulent dining table. His piercing gaze scrutinized every inch of the child's face, searching for a rational explanation.

He could not shake the uncanny, haunting familiarity etched into both of these children’s features. It was a phantom resemblance that tugged relentlessly at the corners of his mind.

"Our mommy isn’t very well-known," Jaxon said smoothly, resting his small chin in his hands. He flashed a bright, disarming smile, expertly steering the conversation away from dangerous territory. "So you wouldn't recognize her name even if we told you. By the way, mister, do you have a girlfriend?"

Gideon narrowed his eyes, caught off guard by the abrupt change in subject. A girlfriend? There was a woman living in his house, yes, but he had never formally admitted that she held such a title in his life.

Jaxon’s smile widened into a mischievous grin. "How about we introduce our mommy to you? Although she isn’t famous, she is amazing. Not to mention, she looks gorgeous. I mean, just look at us! You should be able to imagine just how beautiful the woman who made us must be."

Gideon pressed his lips into a tight, silent line. He did not utter a single word in response.

The boy was not wrong. These two children possessed an exceptionally outstanding appearance. It stood to reason that the woman who gave birth to them possessed an extraordinary beauty. Yet, a deep, unsettling contradiction warred within his chest. Whenever he looked at them, his instincts screamed that there was a connection, a tether pulling him toward these small strangers.

His logical mind, however, remained firmly locked into reality. He believed Camilla was his only partner. He knew for an absolute fact that Camilla had never been pregnant, nor had she ever given birth to any children. It was a biological impossibility for these kids to be his. Still, the more he stared at Chloe’s delicate face, the more a strange, elusive memory danced just out of reach.

A sudden vibration against the table broke the quiet tension. Jaxon glanced down at his smartwatch. The screen illuminated with an incoming call from Maddox.

Jaxon stood up, offering a polite nod. "Excuse me, mister. I need to go to the bathroom."

Without waiting for an answer, he turned and jogged away from the dining area. He slipped into a quiet, plush-carpeted corridor near the restroom entrance, tapped the answer button on his watch, and brought it close to his ear.

"Maddox?" Jaxon whispered, his tone dropping its playful facade.

Miles away, standing outside the imposing entrance of the hospital, Maddox clutched a crisp white medical document in his hand. His voice crackled through the tiny speaker, vibrating with barely contained excitement. "Jaxon, the results are already out."

Jaxon’s breath hitched. "Is he our daddy?"

"Yes! The DNA matches. He is our daddy!"

Jaxon nodded slowly to himself in the empty hallway, a deep frown forming on his young face. "No wonder he resembles us so much," he muttered. The gears in his brilliant mind turned rapidly, piecing the dark truth together with terrifyingly accurate childhood logic. "But if he is our daddy, why is he with that vicious woman?"

"Think about what Godmother told us," Maddox replied, his tone turning serious as he walked down the hospital steps. "Mommy got kicked out of the Kensington manor because of the trap that bad woman set for her six years ago. Daddy doesn't know about our existence at all. He doesn't even know who Mommy really is. It has to be because of that bad woman's lies."

Jaxon’s expression darkened into a fierce scowl. The sheer scale of the deception settled over him. "Hmph. So that bad woman wants to keep our daddy all to herself?" He gritted his teeth, his small hands curling into tight fists at his sides. "In her wildest dreams!"

He spoke into his watch, his voice ringing with a solemn vow. "Just you wait and see, Maddox. We are going to steal our daddy back."

Ending the call, Jaxon spun around on his heel to head back to the dining table.

He moved too fast. He collided forcefully with a woman walking past, his small shoulder knocking into her side.

"Hey! Where did this little b*stard come from?" a shrill, haughty voice snapped through the corridor. "Don't you have eyes?"

Monica stumbled back, glaring down at the child. She frantically patted her expensive designer clothes, trying to smooth out the wrinkled fabric. She had saved this particular outfit for special occasions, reluctant to wear it casually at home, and the sight of this clumsy brat ruining her immaculate appearance fueled her annoyance.

She opened her mouth to deliver a harsh scolding, but the words died in her throat.

Her gaze locked onto the little boy's face. Her expression twisted in pure, unadulterated shock. The uncanny, striking resemblance to Gideon Rothwell sent immediate shockwaves through her system. But it was not just Gideon she saw. Peering through the boy's sharp features was the undeniable, unmistakable shadow of Vivienne Kensington from six years ago. The realization paralyzed her.

A cold dread pooled in Monica's stomach. A boy who looked exactly like Gideon had just appeared out of nowhere. Could he be an illegitimate child? But Gideon was notoriously distant from women. He had never shown interest in anyone, except for that one fateful night six years ago.

Monica's breathing turned shallow. Hadn't that wretched girl only slept with Gideon for a single night? How could it be possible for her to get pregnant from just one encounter? Yet, Vivienne had recently returned to Valoria, and now this child stood right in front of her.

Jaxon picked himself up, brushing the dust from his own clothes. He met her panicked stare with cold defiance. "You're the one who doesn't have eyes, aunty."

"Who..." Monica stammered, an ominous premonition clawing at her chest. "Who is your mother?"

"What makes you think you're worthy of knowing who my mother is?" Jaxon retorted. He turned his back on her, fully intending to walk away.

Monica lunged forward, her fingers digging harshly into his small arm. "You little b*stard, didn't your mother teach you how to talk to your elders with respect?"

Jaxon turned his head. His eyes grew glacial, mimicking the exact ferocious glare Gideon possessed when angered. "Didn't your mother teach you to love children?"

The sheer audacity of the boy, paired with that terrifyingly familiar glare, pushed Monica over the edge. Her rising panic morphed into explosive fury.

"Is your mother Vivienne Kensington?" she shrieked loudly, the accusation echoing down the elegant hall. "Is that b*tch your mother!?"

The vile insult directed at his beloved mother flipped a switch inside Jaxon. Operating on pure, feral instinct, he grabbed the hand gripping his arm, pulled it toward him, and clamped his teeth down hard onto Monica's flesh.

"Aah!" Monica screamed in piercing pain. She ripped her bleeding hand away and violently shoved the small boy backward.

Jaxon hit the carpeted floor with a thud. Instead of scrambling up to fight back, he stayed down. His face crumbled, and he instantly burst into theatrical, heartbroken sobs.

"Boohoohoo! Someone is hitting a child!" Jaxon wailed, his devastating cries echoing through the corridor. "Boohoohoo!"

The raw volume of his grief worked like a charm. Several waiters passing by halted in their tracks, their attention snapping toward the commotion. Seeing a small, defenseless child weeping miserably on the floor beneath a domineering, well-dressed woman, they hurried over to intervene.

"Madam, how could you push a child?" a waiter scolded, bending down to help Jaxon.

"This is none of your business!" Monica snapped, clutching her bitten hand to her chest. "Did you see me push him? He fell down by himself!"

"I only bumped into you!" Jaxon sobbed, massive tears streaming down his face. "But you pushed me and called my mommy a b*tch! Boohoohoo!"

The gathering staff murmured in intense sympathy, their glaring looks fixed firmly on Monica. Realizing the boy was the VIP guest dining with Gideon Rothwell, the restaurant manager spun on his heel and rushed back to the main dining room to alert the billionaire.

Footsteps pounded down the hall as Chloe and Wyatt ran toward the crowd.

"Jaxon!" Chloe cried out. Seeing her brother sitting on the ground with a tear-streaked face, she charged to the front of the crowd and fixed Monica with a furious glare. "Why did you push my brother!?"

"Did you see me push him with your own eyes?" Monica sneered, her temper flaring wildly out of control. "You little b*stards are trying to frame me today, aren't you? You don't know who I am! I'll show you how I deal with brats like you!"

The horrifying realization that these feral children were Vivienne's offspring burned through the last shreds of her restraint. Blinded by rage and the stinging pain of the bite, Monica raised her manicured hand high into the air, determined to strike the weeping boy.

Chloe saw the incoming blow. Without a second thought, she threw her small body forward, deliberately stepping into the path of the strike to shield Jaxon.

The heavy, brutal slap landed squarely on Chloe's face.

A resounding crack echoed through the corridor, shocking the surrounding waiters into stunned silence. The force of the impact knocked Chloe to the floor. She did not shed a single tear, but a stark, violent red mark bloomed instantly across her tender, pale cheek.

"You... you ran into it yourself!" Monica stammered, caught off guard by the girl's sudden sacrifice.

Before Monica could utter another excuse, the air temperature in the hallway plummeted.

Monica's face drained of all color as she looked up. "Mr... Mr. Rothwell..."

Gideon stepped through the parted crowd of waiters. The moment his amber eyes fell upon the angry red welt swelling on Chloe's delicate cheek, his expression darkened into a state of lethal, terrifying rage.

"Mrs. Kensington," Gideon said, his voice dropping into a glacial register. "Why did you make such a harsh move on a child?"

"I... No, Mr. Rothwell!" Monica frantically raised her bleeding hand, brandishing the visible bite marks like a shield. "This kid ran into me first! He didn't apologize, he talked back, and he bit me! Look at this!"

Jaxon wiped his eyes, pointing a tiny, trembling finger at her. "You are the one who scolded me first! You called my mommy a b*tch! That is why I bit you!"

Fresh tears spilled from Jaxon's eyes. His raw, flawless display of distress struck a deep, inexplicable, and violently protective chord within Gideon's chest.

Ignoring Monica entirely, Gideon stepped forward and dropped to one knee beside the children. He reached out to Chloe, his large hand gentle as his thumb carefully brushed against her swollen, reddened cheek. He turned to Jaxon, using his cuff to wipe away the boy's streaming tears. The genuine pain radiating from these small, brave siblings affected him in ways he could not comprehend.

Gideon rose to his full, towering height. The protective fury in his eyes solidified as he fixed Monica with an irrefutable glare.

"Apologize to the kids," he commanded. The chilling authority in his tone left no room for debate.

Monica flinched. Desperation clawed at her throat. "Mr. Rothwell, just what is your relationship with these two wild kids?" She desperately hoped to leverage her status, reminding him of her connection to his household.

Gideon’s thin lips pressed into a tight, merciless line. The underlying threat of absolute destruction darkened his gaze.

"You don't have to worry about my relationship with them," Gideon stated coldly. "You only need to apologize to the child because you are Camilla's mother. And I promise I won't make your life difficult because of this matter ever again."