Chapter 6 - The Patriarch's Shadow
I turned to see a tall, white-haired man in a bespoke charcoal suit standing at the top of the marble stairs. His posture was rigid, his face carved from cold stone, and his steel-gray eyes locked onto me with immediate, lethal hostility.
Beside him stood two muscular men in dark suits with earpieces—security guards.
"Father," Camila said, her voice dropping an octave as she stepped instinctively in front of me. "He was just leaving."
Arthur Montgomery walked down the stairs slowly, his silver-tipped cane tapping against the stone with a rhythmic, sinister cadence. He didn't even look at his daughter; his eyes remained fixed on me.
"I know who he is," Arthur said calmly, stopping five feet away. "Ethan Cross. Architect. Managing partner at a mid-sized firm downtown. You've done well for yourself, Mr. Cross, coming from nothing."
My stomach turned. "You know who I am?"
"Of course I know who you are," Arthur replied with a cold, dismissive chuckle. "Do you truly believe my daughter could give birth to triplets without me investigating every single man she had come into contact with during her pathetic little rebellion eight years ago? I’ve had a file on you since the day the girls were born."
"You knew," I said, anger boiling up inside my chest. "You knew I was their father, and you kept them from me?"
"You were a penniless artist sleeping on a futon when those children were conceived," Arthur spat, his aristocratic composure cracking into raw disdain. "You had nothing to offer the Montgomery name. My granddaughters are heiresses to a fortune. They do not need an illegitimate lineage dragging them down into mediocrity."
"They need their father!" I stepped forward, but the two security guards instantly moved in, blocking my path.
"Ethan, please!" Camila begged, grabbing my wrist. "Don't!"
Arthur gestured smoothly with his hand. "Escort Mr. Cross off the property. If he sets foot on Mercer Island again, have the police arrest him for felony trespassing. And if he attempts to contact the press or file a paternity suit, remind him of what happens to small architecture firms when their main investors suddenly pull their funding."
The threat was clear, precise, and ruthless. He was willing to destroy my career, my livelihood, and my life to keep his grand facade intact.
The security guards grabbed my arms, pinning them behind my back.
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"This isn't over, Montgomery!" I yelled as they began dragging me backward across the lawn. I looked past the guards at Camila, whose tears were streaming down her face. "Camila! I'm not leaving you! I'm coming back for you and our daughters!"
As they forced me through the iron gates, I looked up at the second-story window of the estate. Pressed against the glass were three tiny faces, watching their father be forced away into the fog.
