That was my man. Now he needed this type of outlet.
I sat on the stairs, able to see over everything and hear, and I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees as Logan did just what I knew he needed to do.
He took the file from Mason, striding forward.
Mason glanced around, then up, finding me. I could see the question in his gaze, looking me over, and I gave him a slight nod and smile in return. He gave me a mirrored nod before turning to what was unveiling before us.
This was Logan’s forte. It was no longer Mason’s. I saw that much in the relief in Mason’s gaze.
“—moronically getting fucked over by her.” Logan had started.
James frowned, starting forward.
Congo’s hand held him back. James was on a tethered rope, and he was allowed only so much space before it would retract back into place. Congo could not have cared less about what was happening, but his job was to hold onto James Kade until told otherwise. That’s what he was doing.
James huffed, and asked in a scathing tone, “Do you mind?”
Congo stared at him and blinked. That was all he did. He could’ve yawned, and his face wouldn’t have changed.
“You got scammed, Pops.” Logan started reading from the file. “Tate Sullivan wasn’t just fucking you. She was screwing the CEO of Import Banking. Know Carlisle Scamponi?” He held over a picture. “Recognize him? Looks a bit like Evan and Owen, right? Carlis—wait, no—your sons?” Two more images were produced, and James winced as he saw them side by side.
He paled with the first image.
He paled more with the second two.
“Also, according to this file, Tate’s been having a sexual relationship with a Benjamin William, and that will be important because guess where Billy works?” His usual cocksure smirk was firmly on Logan’s face. “The Fallen Crest Medical Labs. It’s where the paternity tests would’ve been done.”
James was as white as a sheet. A slight draft could’ve knocked him over.
Logan flipped the file around. Another picture was pinned inside. “She’s been banging him for eight years.” He stopped, pinned his dad with a stern look. “What’s she been asking for, Dad? I’m assuming money, but what else?”
James had to pull his gaze away from the pictures back to Logan.
He wasn’t so talkative now.
He blinked, his body unsteady. “I need to sit down.”
Congo and Bren moved in, both taking each of his arms and they walked/carried him into the kitchen. I had an even better view now. They put him in the chair that, if you looked up, you could see exactly where I was. The rest filed in after, and Logan glanced up, saw me, and winked.
I loved my man.
“What’s she been asking for, Dad?”
He slumped over, shaking his head. “I had a paternity test done. It came back positive. They—” His head whipped up, he went from Mason to Logan. “They look like you both!”
“Probably why she picked the guy she did.” That came from Mason, who was sounding more resigned than disgusted or pissed. “What’d she get out of you?”
“Shares. In the company. For both boys. She—she was adamant. Threatened to tell Analise about the affair, make it sound like I’d had two families behind her back. I haven’t.” He was looking at both his sons for validation. “I didn’t. I didn’t do that. I didn’t know about the boys until eight months ago.”
Eight months.
Man.
“I had the paternity tests done. They came back from the company, sealed.” His head hung back down. “She was on the phone with me, wanting me to put the boys in the will. Analise overheard. That’s how she found out. I—I was with her during those years when she would’ve given birth, but I didn’t know she’d even been pregnant. It was only a few times, that was all. After the last time, I went to therapy. I have. I...I do love Analise. We’re both flawed. I understand her, and she understands me, but this… I can’t lose her.”
“Analise is the least of your problems, Dad,” Mason clipped that out. “Did you put them in the will?”
“No. Everything blew up. I haven’t had a chance.”
“How is Helen involved?” Samantha spoke up, moving forward. Her face was set too, firm and unrelenting when James turned her way. He grimaced, visibly shaken, when he saw her.
“I don’t know.”
“Da—”
“I don’t know!” he cut off Mason before his gaze fell again. “I swear. I’m assuming Tate reached out. She’s been threatening to tell everyone. I’m guessing she started with Helen.”
“Fuck that.”
Everyone turned to Logan.
He continued, “Fuck that. Mom knew, and she didn’t call us?” He glanced at his brother. “Mom knew.”
Mason’s eyes widened. A normal person would’ve looked staggered from that statement. Not Mason. That was his only reaction—that his eyes widened. Then he cursed, long and low, and savagely.