Page 57 of Kingpin's Secret Baby

“Find me?” I whirl back around. “You didn't find me. Your son did. And only because you thought you were dying and needed to clear your conscience.”

Fintan takes a step forward, his expression thunderous. “You're my son too.”

“No.” I meet his gaze steadily. “I'm nobody's son. I made myself who I am. Without you. Without the Crowes. And I did just fine.”

I turn away again, my pulse hammering in my ears. I need to get out of here. Need to breathe air that isn't thick with decades of secrets and lies.

I'm halfway down the hall when Desmond catches up to me.

“Piers, wait-”

“Save it,” I snap, but he grabs my arm.

“Just- hear me out.”

I could shake him off. Could keep walking. But something in his voice makes me pause.

Desmond lets out a slow breath. “I know this isn't what you wanted. I know finding out about us like this... it's not ideal. But you're here now. You're home.”

“This isn't my home,” I say quietly.

His expression falls, disappointment clear in his eyes. “It could be,” he says. “If you let it.”

I study him for a long moment. This brother I never knew I had. This mirror image of myself who grew up with everything I didn't.

He watches me with something close to understanding. Like he knows exactly what I’m feeling.

“I don’t blame you,” he says. “For hating him.”

I don’t say anything.

“I know you’re angry,” Desmond continues, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I get it. But this... this isn’t the way.”

I don’t respond. Part of me wants to tear him apart right now, too. All this time, all these questions, and I still don’t have any answers.

Desmond exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “Look, I didn’t force you to come here just because of him. It wasn’t just about our father.”

I narrow my eyes. “Then what was it?”

His throat works as he swallows looking down on the ground. “Because I’ve always wanted a brother.”

I blink. Of all the things I expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them.

“When I found out about you, I was... excited,” he admits, voice rough with something raw. “Hopeful. I thought maybe- maybe we could be a family again. Or at least... something close to it.” His lips press together, like he's debating saying more, but then he shakes his head. “I know how naïve that sounds now.”

I don’t know what to say. I should scoff, should call him out for trying to manipulate me, but the words don’t come.

He lets out a dry, bitter laugh. “You met him. You know what he's like. Mom died a while ago. And whatever idea I had of a real family died with her. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just... I wanted something. Someone. You can’t tell me you don’t relate to that.”

I clench my jaw, staring at the floor. Of course, I relate to it. I grew up looking at other families, wondering what it was like to have that- to belong. But that wasn’t my life. And it sure as hell wasn’t his, either.

“Yeah, well,” I say, my voice rough, “wanting something doesn’t mean you get it.”

I can see the disappointment on his face. It’s not anger. It’s not hatred. Just… disappointment. Like he wanted me to walk into this, to be open to it, to be open to him, and I’ve failed him.

Desmond sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t have to decide anything now. Just… don’t leave yet. Give it a chance.”

I don’t promise him a damn thing.

---