Chapter 6

Maxwell wasn't buying it. Nothing this man was saying made any sense right now.

His looked around the parking lot, half expecting Armand to step out from behind a car with that shit-eating grin. Maybe Brendan would pop up with his phone out, already recording.

"What is this?" Maxwell asked . "Some kind of joke?"

But who could blame him for being this suspicious? One would think it's ridiculous, however in Maxwell's case it wasn't, because there was no telling how far Armand and his family were willing to go just to make him sad. 

Kieran just stood there. He was patient like he'd been expecting this exact reaction.

"Master Maxwell, I understand this is…. "

"Save it." Maxwell cut him off. He'd had enough tonight. Enough humiliation, and enough games. "You can tell Armand this isn't working. I'm not falling for it."

It made sense, didn't it? Armand loved this kind of thing. He'd spent years throwing Maxwell's father in his face, mocking him for being nobody's son. The bastard kid of some loser who'd knocked up Debra and disappeared from his life, never to he seen again. 

This would be exactly his style. Set up some elaborate prank, get Maxwell's hopes up about finally meeting family, then pull the rug out. Film the whole thing for his friends.

Maxwell could already picture it. The video going around tomorrow and everyone laughing at how desperate he was. How pathetic.

Kieran raised both hands, palms out. "I understand how this looks. I do. But I'm not working with your brother. This isn't a joke."

"Right." Maxwell let out a bitter laugh. "And I'm supposed to just believe you?"

"Wait here." Kieran said calmly. "Please. Just wait."

He turned and walked toward the parking lot. Maxwell watched him go, shaking his head. If this really was Armand's doing, it was lazy and obvious. 

Maxwell wanted to leave all this behind and go home, but his feet didn't move. Something kept him there. Maybe it was curiosity. What if it wasn't a prank?

The thought crept in before he could stop it. What if this guy really was from his father's side? What if there was actually family out there who'd been looking for him?

No. That was stupid. Maxwell was twenty-seven years old already. If his father had a family who gave a damn about him, they would've shown up years ago. The fact that they hadn't said everything he needed to know.

Kieran reached a car. It was a black luxurious BMW that looked like it was very expensive. Maxwell noticed the car and knew the price. It cost more that he had ever made in a year. The kind only people with money drove. 

Kieran opened the passenger door and pulled something out. A tablet. He held it carefully as he walked back, like it was made of glass.

"Here." He held it out. "This should help."

Maxwell stared at it. "What is it?"

"See for yourself, Master."

Maxwell hesitated. His hand throbbed, blood still seeping through his fingers. His shirt was ruined. He was tired. So fucking tired.

But he took the tablet anyway. Holding the tablet with the fingers that were cut by the glass was painful, however he could handle that pain. 

The screen showed a photo. A man, early twenties maybe. With dark hair and a sharp jawline. He'd never seen this man before. Not once in his entire life. But something about him felt familiar in a way that made his chest tight.

The resemblance was there. Undeniable. Same eyes. Same hair color. Similar bone structure.

"Who's this?" Maxwell asked. Although already he could already see that, he was related to the person in that picture, they had to. Such a resemblance was only between relatives. 

"That's your father," Kieran said.

Maxwell wanted to call bullshit. To throw the tablet back and walk away. But he couldn't stop staring at the photo. Debra had never shown him pictures of his father, and she had never talked about his father except to call him trash and all the other bad words she used to speak of him. 

But the man in the picture didn't look like trash. He looked... normal.

"Swipe left," Kieran said.

Maxwell's thumb moved before his brain caught up. He swiped and the next photo made his eyes wide.

This time in the next photo, he saw Debra. She was young, maybe twenty-two or twenty-three. She looked different, softer, less cold. She was standing next to the man from the first photo. They were close, his arm around her waist. She was smiling.

Maxwell had never seen his mother smile like that. Not at him. However what really was surprising was seeing the same man, Kieran claimed was his dad with Debra his mother. 

"When was this taken?" The words pushed out of him.

"Twenty-eight years ago," Kieran said. "They dated for three months. She never knew who he really was."

Maxwell swiped again to another photo. Debra and the man at some kind of event. She was wearing an elegant dress, he was wearing a tuxedo. But unlike the other people in the background, people who reeked of wealth, he looked simpler. Less polished.

Maxwell swiped again.

This time the photo showed his father with someone else. An older man in a suit, clearly important. They were shaking hands in front of a corporate building.

"I thought he was a nobody." Maxwell said in a voice that sounded empty in his own ears. According to what he was seeing right now, his father was not who Debra had always described. “That's what she said.” He muttered more to himself than to anyone. 

"Who? Your mother? That's what she told you," Kieran said. He might just be an assistant, but even he knew who Debra was, and how she had treated Maxwell. "Because that's all she knew. Your father never told her his real identity.” He didn't say much.