Chapter 3

Several years had passed since I' d fled the Davenport mansion. Leo was now a confident, articulate five-year-old, thriving in his new environment, doted on by Victoria. One afternoon, Victoria' s brother, Richard Sterling, a well-connected corporate lawyer who sometimes consulted on Sterling Innovations matters from his D.C. base, arrived at the estate for a visit. He wasn't alone. "Ava, Victoria," Richard said, ushering his companion forward. "I'd like you to meet a friend and colleague of mine, Ethan Davenport."

My blood ran cold. Ethan. Standing there, in the sun-drenched atrium of the Sterling estate, looking even more polished, more powerful, than I remembered. His eyes, those cool, intelligent eyes, widened almost imperceptibly as they met mine. Then they flickered to Leo, who was chattering animatedly beside me, holding my hand. The shock on Ethan's face was unmistakable, a crack in his usually composed demeanor. He looked like he' d seen a ghost.

To protect myself, to protect Leo, to protect the fragile peace I had built, I reacted instantly. When Victoria, unaware of our shared past, made the introductions, I smiled coolly. "Mr. Davenport, a pleasure." Later, when Ethan found a moment alone with me, his eyes burning with unspoken questions as he stared at Leo, I said calmly, "Leo is four. He' ll be five soon." A small lie, a crucial six-month discrepancy, designed to plant doubt, to make him believe Leo couldn't possibly be his.

Ethan was visibly shaken, hurt, and confused. He clearly believed I had moved on immediately after leaving his family, had a child with someone else. Yet, I saw a strange, undeniable pull in his eyes as he looked at Leo, a flicker of something he couldn't understand or name. He thought Leo was another man's son, yet the resemblance, subtle but there, must have been a confusing echo.

The next few days were fraught with tension. Ethan was staying at the estate as Richard's guest. Our interactions were brief, professional, but charged with unspoken history. He made pointed remarks, testing me, trying to get a reaction. "You seem to have landed on your feet, Ava. Quite the transformation from... before." I maintained a cool, distant demeanor, the confident Ava Sterling, head of a tech empire, not the vulnerable nanny he had known.

During a formal family dinner Victoria hosted, one of the "Other Sterlings," Cousin Marcus, ever the opportunist, made a snide comment. "Such a charming boy, Leo," he said, his voice dripping with insinuation. "Though one does wonder about his paternal lineage. So many... unknowns in your past, Ava dear." Before I could utter a word, Ethan, who had been silently observing, spoke. His voice was like steel. "Leo is a fine boy, Marcus. And his mother is a remarkable woman. Perhaps you should focus on your own family's rather public... indiscretions." The table fell silent. Ethan had defended me, defended Leo, fiercely and instinctively. He looked as surprised by his own outburst as everyone else.

Later that evening, after the guests had departed, Ethan confronted me in the library. He was no longer the cool, composed politician. His eyes blazed. "Alright, Ava. Enough games. Who is he? And why did you leave like that? Without a word?" He paced the room, agitated. "I came back that day, and you were just... gone. Vanished."

The dam inside me finally broke. Years of suppressed pain, anger, and a strange, lingering hurt surfaced. "Your grandmother!" I cried, my voice trembling. "She found you a 'suitable' match, Annabelle Prescott! She paid me off, told me my 'services' were no longer required, and ordered me to disappear before the engagement was announced! I was discarded, Ethan! Like trash!"

He stopped pacing, his face paling. "Annabelle Prescott? My grandmother... she told you that?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Ava, I... I called off that engagement. The moment she told me about it, I refused. It was a business arrangement, nothing more. I never wanted it." He looked at me, his eyes filled with a pain that mirrored my own. "I was devastated when you left. I searched for you. For months. You just... vanished." He stepped closer. "And the birth control... I told you I didn't want you on those pills because... even then, Ava, I was falling for you. I irrationally hoped... I hoped for something that would bind us. I never imagined she would force you out like that. I was an arrogant fool."

The raw honesty in his voice, the confession of his own hurt, shattered the last of my defenses. He reached for me, and this time, I didn't pull away. The air crackled with years of unspoken emotions. "Leo," he whispered, his gaze searching mine. "He's five, isn't he? Not four." I nodded, tears streaming down my face. "He's your son, Ethan." The resemblance, now that he knew, was undeniable. His eyes, his chin, the way he tilted his head when he was thinking. It was all Ethan.