Everything Caleb believed about his world tilted.
Caleb didn’t remember the walk back to the Donovan Grand Tower. His legs carried him on instinct, and Noah followed a few steps behind, wary, as though expecting to be thrown out at any second. The doormen stared but didn’t interfere—Caleb was the Donovan heir, and no one questioned him.
Inside, Caleb ushered Noah into a quiet lounge. He ordered soup, a sandwich, and a blanket. Noah accepted them awkwardly, eating quickly but politely.
Caleb struggled to steady his voice.
“Maybe… we should talk to my dad.”
Noah flinched. “Why would he care? If he wanted me, I wouldn’t have been living behind a Walgreens dumpster.”
Caleb had no answer.
Thirty minutes later, Alexander Donovan arrived—polished, powerful, impatient.
But when his eyes landed on Noah, something cracked in his expression. Fear. Recognition. Guilt.
“What is this?” Alexander asked, voice too controlled.
Caleb didn’t waver. “Dad, he says he’s Lindsey Brooks’s son.”
Alexander visibly stiffened.
Noah rose slowly. “I just want the truth. Did you know my mom?”
Alexander closed his eyes for a beat.
“Yes.” The single word trembled. “But I never knew about… this.”