2025-06-16 22:27:31.
"They said you have information about my identity," Caleb began, his voice firm. He jammed his hands into his pockets. "I know you want Diana to marry your cousin, but don't you think it's a little strange, digging into me?" He wanted to appear fierce, not desperate.
"Have your seat, Mr. Blake." Mr. Callahan gestured to a plush leather chair.
"I'd rather stand. What did you find out about me?"
Mr. Callahan rose, moving to a hidden compartment in his study. He returned with a framed picture and a small jewelry box. He gazed at the picture for a moment, a profound sadness settling on his features, before placing it gently on the desk.
"Come and have a look at your identity," he invited.
Caleb hesitated. But then he saw it: the familiar golden gleam as Mr. Callahan drew his necklace from the jewelry box. He moved closer. The picture in the frame showed a beautiful woman. He didn't remember her clearly, but something deep inside whispered recognition. "What's this about?" Confusion clouded his eyes. Mr. Callahan's composure unnerved him, but he pushed the feeling away.
"May I?" Mr. Callahan gestured to Caleb's own necklace. Caleb nodded, unhooking it. It landed in Mr. Callahan's hand. He watched as Mr. Callahan ran his fingers over the pendant, as if searching for something. He found a tiny button, almost invisible. He pressed it.
"How did you know about that?" Caleb demanded. He'd worn the necklace his whole life, never knowing.
Richard shushed him with a quick glance.
As the button clicked, a small, round frame slid out from the pendant. It held a picture. Caleb snatched it from Mr. Callahan's hand. A name was engraved: Mr. C. Ishq. He saw his father and mother. But his gaze locked on the woman, her face beaming. A wide smile broke across his bruised lips, and tears welled in his eyes.
"How did you know about this? Thank you so much." He appreciated the gesture.
Mr. Callahan took the necklace back. "Here." He pointed to the man in the pendant's picture, then gestured to the larger framed photo on the desk. It showed the same woman, his mother, and a man standing behind her. "Don't you recognize this person?" Mr. Callahan asked.
Caleb stared, looking harder. "Isn't he... my father?" He began, "Do you know..." Then it hit him. The man in the picture. The man standing before him. The same person. He stumbled back, almost tripping. Richard reached out, steadying him. Caleb pulled away.
"I... I don't understand this. This..." He looked from the pictures to Mr. Callahan. Images, glimpses of his past, flashed through his mind.
A woman, her features matching the pendant, spoke in his memory. "Stay with Mrs. Laura. I'm sorry for doing this to you, but for now, stay with her. Your father is in prison for what he didn't commit. People are after us. This is the only way." The woman kissed his forehead, waved goodbye. Mrs. Laura called out a name: Fiona. His mother's name. She turned back. "Thank you for..." The memory faded.
Caleb stood, eyes fixed on Mr. Callahan. "Can you explain this?" he asked.
"I didn't know how to approach you without scaring you or pushing you away," Mr. Callahan began. "After I saw your necklace, we took a sample of your DNA from the cup you used and ran some tests." He coughed.
Richard stepped in. "There have been many imposters claiming to be you, so we needed to be sure before approaching you." Richard continued, "I've been Mr. Callahan's assistant for 29 years. Please, try to hear him out."
"I just want to know how true this is. I... I..." Caleb stuttered, his voice choked.
"It's true. Here's the DNA test result." Mr. Callahan handed him a document. Caleb saw it: "Compatibility between A & B: 99% match."
Tears streamed down his face. He'd searched his whole life for this. And now, the father he'd sought stood before him. The same man whose son had publicly humiliated him. But that didn't matter now. Only answers.
"I have fragments of memories, but I could only see your back," Caleb said, his voice raw. "Did you really abandon us? What happened to my mother?"
"I didn't," Mr. Callahan said, his voice thick with emotion. "I was accused of committing what I never did. The CIA seized all my documents. Their research showed I was guilty. They falsified the evidence. I lost my company, then I heard someone bought it under another name. We traced it. It was your mother, she bought it in your name. Since then, Richard has managed it for you."
"You still haven't answered my question. These are just excuses," Caleb challenged.
"I was in prison for what I didn't commit, like I said. I tried to send you and Fiona to Miami, but our enemies caught on. When I went to prison, believing you and your mother were safe, I saw news reports. Fiona Callahan supposedly took her own life weeks later. I knew it wasn't true. When I got out, I searched for you. I found out your mother didn't kill herself. The people who accused me of embezzlement and money laundering tried to buy off my company. When my wife found out and bought it instead, they killed her."
Caleb's hands went cold. He'd known his mother was gone, but the truth of her death twisted his gut. He believed Mr. Callahan because the fragments of his memory, the picture, even his necklace, matched.
He sank into the chair offered earlier. Mr. Callahan approached, a mix of yearning and hesitation on his face. He didn't know how to embrace his son, not after 20 years, not after Caleb grew up as a delivery man. The guilt was a heavy weight. He knelt, placing his hands on Caleb's lap.
"I'm sorry I found you late. I'm sorry. It's okay to blame me," Mr. Callahan said, his voice cracking. "But please, don't resent your mother. She wanted to save you and secure your future. She never knew life would turn out this way. She never knew that for 20 years, we wouldn't see or grow up together." He held Caleb's hands, caressing them gently. "Thank God I reunited with you. I got all the information. I found out you grew up with Laura. Laura was your mother's friend. Even when I searched for Laura, her information showed her as a missing person." Mr. Callahan's voice trailed off.
Caleb felt a confusing mix of happiness and anger. He had his identity, he knew what happened, but his father had been living a good life, a rich life, while Caleb struggled. How had this happened so fast? He squeezed his father's hands back, then stood.
"I understand," Caleb said. "But I need time to process all of this."
"What if you disappear?" Mr. Callahan's voice held fear. "And I never see you or know how you're living?"
"You won't." Caleb turned to leave. "You didn't know how I was living for 20 years, and you survived. You got married and had another child."
Richard stepped forward, blocking his path. "Your father hasn't been with another woman since the death of your mother."
Caleb turned. "What do you mean? So who is Tony and his mother?"
"Tony is an adopted son," Richard said, his voice grave. "He's the son of the man who killed your mother. Your father kept him around until he found you."
"Wh...at?" Anger flashed in Caleb's eyes. "And what about the lady from the other day?"
"She's just a contracted bride. Nothing more."
Fear gnawed at Caleb, is this some kind of mafia movie or what?, who exactly is his father? And why does he have lots of secrets?,. "Do you mean to say my father raised the child of the man who killed my mother?"
"Yes," Richard affirmed. "He groomed him for when you return. Caleb, you are no longer a Smith or a blake. You have a fortune waiting for you
. A business waiting for you to take over. A trillion dollars to handle. So take all the time you need. But just know that You can't run from your destiny."
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
221
The night had folded softly over Varadele; a silver calm stretched across the city where the Callahan–Fiona Foundation stood, steady and luminous in the dark.Inside, most of the lights were dimmed; only the top floors still glowed faintly, like the last embers of a long day refusing to die out.Aimee sat alone in her office; the documents on her desk looked untouched, though she had been staring at them for hours. The room smelled faintly of coffee and rain. Beyond the glass wall, the city pulsed in quiet rhythm; headlights streaked the wet roads below, dissolving into the night.Her fingers toyed with the edge of a pen, but her mind was somewhere else—on Kasper’s voice, steady and low, echoing from earlier that evening.Welcome aboard, he had said, and something in the way he said it had unsettled her calm. It wasn’t his tone; it was the warmth beneath it, the sincerity he didn’t try to hide.She hadn’t realized how long she’d been staring at nothing until the door clicked open behi
220
The archives of the Callahan–Fiona Foundation were a study in organized chaos, a labyrinth of white files and black binders housed deep beneath the main corporate tower. Aimee sat at a large mahogany table, the only light source a small, focused lamp casting a yellow pool over the documents. She was officially reviewing the pre-merger humanitarian expenditures, a task she had volunteered for to better understand the groundwork of the organization. However, her true search was for echoes of the past, for any mention of the woman whose presence in her life had always been a ghost, the worst part of it is even the woman whom she thought was her mother that she was working for turns out to be her mother's friend pretending to her mother so she thought it's best to find more details of what her mother did in the past in order not to make any mistake Aimee turned the page of an annual report from nearly two decades ago, her fingers brushing the brittle paper. The early sections detailed th
219
The morning sun poured through the tall windows of Varadele University, tinting the lecture hall in a soft golden hue. The air buzzed with anticipation. Students, journalists, and scholars filled every seat, some standing at the back, holding cameras or notepads.At the center of the stage stood Dr. Diana Callahan, her silver-streaked hair neatly tied back, her white suit immaculate. She looked poised, but her heart was pounding in a rhythm that echoed both nostalgia and fulfillment.Today marked the end of an era — her final lecture before retirement. The announcement that she would be awarded dual honorary doctorates in Medicine and Ethics had spread across the world. She was now the first woman in Varadele’s history to hold both honors simultaneously.Caleb sat quietly in the front row, a familiar figure among the audience. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes followed every move she made. Time had left gentle marks on his face — faint lines at the corners of his eyes, silver at h
218
Months later A car rolled up the long driveway, its headlights cutting through the mist. Diana, who had been standing by the large bay window of the living room, froze when she recognized the way the door opened lslow, deliberate, cautious.And then, there he was.KJ.He stood under the drizzle, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder, his coat soaked, his expression unreadable. The boy who had once run from the shadows now looked like he had walked through them and come out on the other side — older, leaner, and quiet in a way that only pain could teach.For a moment, Diana didn’t move. Then she stepped outside, the rain touching her hair and shoulders.He looked up and met her eyes.“You’re late,” she said softly, trying to hide the quiver in her voice.He smiled faintly. “Traffic was bad,” he murmured and it was such an ordinary answer that Diana couldn’t help it; she let out a small, shaky laugh.They stood there for a long while before she whispered, “He’s inside.”KJ nodded. “I k
217
Diana stood slowly. For the first time in the conversation, she spoke without an edge of control. “Does Aimee know any of this? Does she know who you are?”Cathy’s throat closed. She exhaled with a sound that was closer to grief than to breath. “yes She does . but I could not bring myself to tell her. I thought it kinder to step away. That was the second cowardice. She doesn’t know the real me.”Caleb’s hand, when he reached for the small paper cup, trembled. He had the impression that Cathy’s confession was a wall being dismantled brick by brick that each brick had the grain of a life’s worth of choices. He also felt the precise, simple fact that a human life had been kept from his family’s knowledge.“You should have told us,” Kasper said, voice low. “We could have done something.”“You could have been destroyed,” Cathy whispered. “I could not risk that. I thought silence was shelter.” She laughed a short, humorless laugh. “Shelter for me. Not for you.”For a long while there was on
216
. At night it had been a place of hushed machines and the faint scent of disinfectant. In the morning it was a place where the light came through the high windows and showed dust on the sills, where the cleaners’ carts crept quietly down the hall and the staff moved with rehearsed efficiency. The quiet was less menacing by day; it felt practical and ordinary.Cathy sat in the visitor chair by the small table in the hospital room. The IV drip beside her made a soft, methodical sound. She had declined the offered hospital gown and instead had a plain sweater pulled close to her throat. The skin at her temples was thin; she kept her hands folded in her lap. She had the posture of someone who had learned to make herself small in public. The bruise marks at the line of her wrist from the hospital band were almost faded now.Caleb was awake. He had insisted on seeing her again before she left. He watched her without speaking. Diana hovered near the doorway, her face unreadable. The twins ha
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