Page 53 of Daddy's Accidental Babies

“Dad, I’m not afraid of him. And I’m not going to be bullied by you either.” My eyes flicked down to look at the small black strip of plastic encasing metal, and I almost shivered. Whatever Dad was trying to prove was no doubt on that drive and ready to crush me yet again. I didn’t want to know.

Everyone had a past. Everyone had secrets. Mine had come out at the worst time imaginable and really hurt Dominic, but we were going to work on it. I knew that. I felt it in my gut.

I didn’t think my heart could survive another secret, especially one that might hurt me or my boys.

“Just look at it, Savannah. You’ll see why I can’t let you date him. Why I have to cut ties with him. Why his whole life has been a lie, and you’re not secure so long as you’re in his realm of influence.” Dad stood and buttoned his jacket, then leaned down and cupped my cheek.

When he pressed his lips to my forehead hard, I got the sense that something inside him was shattering. He never kissed my forehead. He almost never showed any physical sign of affection. This had him rattled, or maybe he was just good at play acting.

“I love you,” he whispered in a gravelly tone before straightening and walking off.

I stared at that flash drive and wrung my hands in my lap for a long time. If Dominic’s secret was scary enough to make my father act so strangely, maybe I did want to know. Maybe Dad was right and I shouldn’t just jump into this relationship with Dominic blindly.

But my heart was screaming to run forward and have what I’d always dreamed of.

Now my mind was asking,What else could go wrong?

28

DOMINIC

Graham shut the door behind me and crossed his office with a manila folder in one hand. He didn’t speak until he sat down, sliding the folder toward me with one finger. His office was quiet except for the muted sound of traffic outside the window and the low hum of the ventilation. I sat down and picked up the folder but didn’t open it right away. I was more interested in hearing what he had to say.

“I went back through the old reports,” he said in a measured tone. “The Montauk incident…I pulled everything—weather logs, security logs, animal control records, even private surveillance footage from the surrounding area.”

The name alone made my jaw tighten. I leaned back, forcing my shoulders to relax. “And?” Montauk had been ancient history to me until David brought it up, and when he did, it made all the guilt and shame resurface. He was playing with fire in a dry forest, which would set my entire world ablaze if I let it.

“You didn’t hit a person,” he said, shaking his head. “The damage to the car was consistent with a large animal, most likely a deer—which I’m guessing is the story David told.” He eyed me carefully as he paused. “It had to have run off…”

I opened the folder and scanned the top page. It held high-resolution photos and notes about who Graham had called. Based on what was written here, everything pointed to an animal impact. It should have been reassuring, but all I could think was how late it had come.

“They widened that stretch of highway five months later, Dom. If there was a body, those construction crews wouldn’t have missed it. Even if carnivores and scavengers had?—”

“Enough,” I said, holding up a hand. The gruesome details were too much for me to listen to right now.

“Alright, I’m just saying no one was reported missing. No one ever found a body. And David Bennett’s father paid a garage out of East Hampton, and the shop owner kept records. He thinks we’re digging into David’s past to screw with his campaign, but even still he swears it wasn’t human damage. He swears he found animal hair in the hood ornament.” Graham sat back and sighed, and I felt his relief.

“David was in the passenger seat that night,” I said, flipping to the next page. “He told me to keep driving. He made a call, said he would handle it.”

“He wants you to believe it was worse than it was,” Graham said. “Because that will keep you quiet—and loyal.” He huffed and continued. “He’s afraid there was more and that you’ll bring him down, Dom. You gotta let it go.”

“And the board?” I closed the folder slowly. My fingers rested on the cover as the air settled between us. For years, I had carried that night on my back. The guilt, the uncertainty, the control David maintained because of it—all of it built on nothing. I hadn’t killed anyone. There had been no victim. “What will they think if the story spills?”

“Then just put it out there. You have a past; that’s not unbelievable. If you think Bennett’s campaign is going to air the dirty laundry, you do it first. Set the record straight so the boardcan spin it to the shareholders the right way. If it doesn’t come out in the public eye, you won’t have to worry anyway. But at least you get to tell the truth before they’re told a lie…”

“What do you think I should tell them about the twins?” I stood, folder in hand, looking down at him as he scrubbed a hand over his face. He’d known before I did but hadn’t said a thing. It wasn’t his place, and I was thankful for his friendship, which was more than I could say for David’s.

“Be straight with them, man. The truth is you’re a dad, and that makes this act you’ve been putting on with Savannah all the more realistic to the press. Imagine how striking those covers will be.” He winked at me, and while I didn’t quite have the same confidence, I did trust his opinion.

“Thanks,” I grunted, nodding at him before turning to walk out.

The boardroom was already half full when I walked in, voices layered over one another in the middle of a discussion I hadn’t been invited to join. No one had expected me to walk in. The chair at the head of the table was empty, but half a dozen men and women turned their heads when the door clicked shut behind me. One of them leaned back. Two others sat up straighter.

I didn’t wait for permission to interrupt whatever it was they were talking about. I marched toward the empty chair and stood there, flopping the folder out onto the table for them to peruse. “I have something to say.”

A few of them looked at each other, silent but clearly uncertain. Some shifted in their seats, waiting to see if someone else would speak first. When no one did, the room settled into an uneasy quiet that gave me space to continue.

“You’ve all seen the coverage. You’ve read the speculation. And you’re wondering if it’s true. So I’ll tell you.” I paused only long enough to meet their eyes one at a time. “Yes. The boys aremine. Savannah didn’t tell me until recently, and she had her reasons. But I am their father, and I’m proud of them. The media frenzy is exaggerated and misleading, fueled by speculation and opportunism. I won’t allow it to continue undermining what matters most to me.”

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