Chapter Two

Sienna’s Pov

“June… I think I just found Ava’s father.”

Silence stretched across the line.

Then—“What?”

I sat frozen in the empty conference room, my heart beating so hard it hurt. I couldn’t stop staring at the photo on my phone. Roman and Cole. Identical. One brother standing in front of me. The other missing for two years.

“I need you to breathe,” June said.

“I am breathing.”

“No, you’re panicking.”

I was. A little. Maybe a lot.

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

I explained everything—the meeting, Roman, the resemblance, the article, the twin brother. By the time I finished, June was quiet again.

“Okay,” she finally said.

“Okay?” I repeated.

“You need facts.”

I rubbed my forehead. “I know.”

“No assumptions.”

“I know.”

“And absolutely no showing up at anybody’s mansion demanding DNA tests.”

I almost laughed despite myself. “That wasn’t my plan.”

“It sounded like your plan.”

I leaned back in my chair, the reality of everything settling over me. For years I had accepted not knowing. Accepted that the man from that night was gone, that I would probably never see him again. Then suddenly he wasn’t gone. He was connected to one of the richest families in the country. Somehow that felt even worse.

“What if he knew?” I asked quietly.

June didn’t answer immediately. “What if who knew?”

“Cole.” His name felt strange in my mouth. “What if he knew about Ava?”

She sighed. “We don’t know that.”

But the question wouldn’t leave me alone. What if he had known? What if he had simply chosen not to be involved? The thought hurt more than I wanted to admit.

“I have to go,” June said. “Call me after work.”

“Okay.”

The line disconnected.

I looked at the article again. Cole Calloway. Former Executive Director. No public appearances in two years. No explanation beyond a vague reference to scandal. Almost like he had vanished completely.

A knock interrupted my thoughts, and I quickly locked my phone.

A woman poked her head into the room. “Miss Vale? Mr. Calloway wants to see you.”

My stomach dropped. Which one? Then I remembered. There was only one Calloway in this building. Roman. Great. Just great.

*******************

Five minutes later I stood outside Roman’s office. His assistant waved me inside hastily.

The office was enormous, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Everything looked expensive. Everything looked intimidating. Roman sat behind his desk, his attention fixed on a tablet. For a second I studied him—the resemblance was unbelievable. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn he was Cole. Then he looked up, and the illusion disappeared. Those eyes were colder, sharper, more guarded.

“Sit,” he said.

I sat.

Roman returned his attention to the tablet, and for several moments neither of us spoke. The silence stretched uncomfortably, and I hated silence. Finally he set the tablet down.

“Your previous supervisor recommended you highly.”

“Thank you.”

“You doubled productivity at your last company.”

“I had a good team.”

His gaze sharpened. “You don’t like taking credit.”

“I like telling the truth.”

Something flickered across his expression—interest maybe—then it vanished. “Good.”

The conversation should have ended there, but he kept looking at me, studying me, like he was trying to solve a puzzle. It made me deeply uncomfortable.

“What?” I finally asked.

“You seem distracted.”

My heart skipped. “I just started.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

I forced myself to remain calm. Roman leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Something about me bothered you this morning,” he said.

The room suddenly felt smaller. I looked away. “You’re imagining things.”

“No.” His voice was calm and certain. “I don’t think I am.”

Damn it. For a terrifying second I thought he knew everything. Then his phone buzzed, and his attention shifted instantly. Whatever question he was about to ask disappeared.

“You’re dismissed.”

I stood immediately—possibly too quickly. Roman noticed, of course. Nothing seemed to escape him.

I reached the door.

“Miss Vale.”

I turned back.

His expression was unreadable. “Welcome to Calloway Industries.”

I forced a smile. “Thank you.”

Then I escaped.

************

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of emails, meetings, and training sessions. I absorbed information on autopilot while my brain remained focused on one thing: Cole.

Every spare moment I spent searching. Articles. Interviews. Photos. Anything. The deeper I dug, the stranger everything became. There were hundreds of articles about Roman. Almost none about Cole. The older articles mentioned both brothers together, and then suddenly Cole disappeared—like someone had erased him from existence.

I found one blurry photo from three years ago, another from four years back. Then nothing. No interviews, no social media, no public appearances. The man had simply vanished, and nobody seemed interested in explaining why.

By five-thirty my head was pounding. I shut down my computer and headed for daycare. The moment Ava saw me, she ran into my arms, and everything inside me softened.

“Hi, baby.”

“Mommy!”

This was always the best part of every day. Always. She wrapped her arms around my neck. “I’m hungry.”

I laughed. “Of course you are.”

We stopped for pizza on the way home, then cartoons, bath time, story time. The usual routine that grounded me. By eight-thirty she was asleep, and I should have gone to bed too.

Instead I opened my laptop again.

One more search. One more article. One more clue. That was when I found it—a forum discussion from almost two years ago. Most of it was nonsense, rumors, speculation, conspiracy theories. But one comment caught my eye.

A former employee claimed Cole hadn’t left willingly. According to them, he had been forced out. The comment included a location—a town outside the city, a small place I’d never heard of.

My pulse quickened. The comment was probably fake, probably useless, probably nothing. But it was more than I had yesterday. I stared at the screen, then looked toward Ava’s bedroom.

This was crazy. I knew it was crazy. But for the first time in four years, there was a real possibility that I could find him.

My phone suddenly vibrated.

An unknown number.

I hesitated before answering. “Hello?”

For a moment there was only silence.

Then a man’s voice spoke—low, rough, unfamiliar, yet somehow not.

“If you care about your daughter,” the voice said, “stop looking for Cole Calloway.”

The line went dead.