"What secret?" I asked.
Lucas pointed at Elias, who stood a few feet away, watching our conversation with those calculating blue eyes. "Him."
I looked at Elias, then back at my brothers. "What about him?"
"He's one of us," Lucas said.
I shook my head, confused. "Yeah, I know. Elias is an operator. I get it. Dominion Hall recruited?—"
"No," Ethan interrupted, his voice gentle but firm. "Elias and his six brothers—" He paused, letting that sink in. Six brothers. Elias had six brothers, same as me. "—they're our brothers, too."
The words didn't compute.
I stared at Ethan, waiting for the punchline. When it didn't come, I looked at Lucas, who'd lost his grin and was watching me with something that looked almost like pity. Then at Elias, who stood there with his arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"That's not—" I started, then stopped. "You're saying Dad?—"
"Sired another brood," Lucas finished bluntly. "Seven sons in Charleston. Seven in Montana. Fourteen total."
My father. My hero. The man whose disappearance had changed me from a happy kid into a loner who trusted silence more than people. He'd had another family? Another seven sons he'd never mentioned? Never brought home? Never even hinted existed?
"How?" The question came out raw. "When?"
"That's what we're still piecing together," Ethan said. "But the timeline overlaps. He was with both families. Living two lives."
I felt like I'd been hit in the chest with a battering ram. "And you're just—you're just telling me this now?"
"We found out recently," Lucas said. "The Charleston Danes didn't know about us any more than we knew about them. Dad kept both families separate. Compartmentalized."
Elias spoke for the first time since they'd arrived, his voice carrying that same controlled authority I'd heard on our calls. "It was news to us, too, Gideon. Finding out we had seven brothers in Montana—that our father had lived an entirely separate life out west—" He shook his head. "It took some adjusting."
"Adjusting," I repeated numbly.
"But now that you know," Elias continued, stepping closer, "you're part of the family. All of it. The business. Dad's wealth. Everything."
Wealth. Business. I barely heard the words through the roaring in my ears.
Thirteen brothers.
My father had fourteen sons.
And he'd abandoned us all.
"I don't—" I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to force my brain to catch up. "I don't understand any of this."
Ethan's massive hand settled on my shoulder, grounding me the way it had when we were kids and the world got too big. "Don't worry. We'll explain everything we know. It's a lot, but we've got time."
"Time," I echoed, the laugh that escaped me sharp and bitter. "Yeah. Time."
Lucas elbowed me in the ribs, gentler than his usual bruising jabs. "Hey. Look at the bright side—Caleb's having the time of his life on the family yachts. Can't wait to see you. Says Montana's looking boring compared to Charleston's coastline."
Despite everything—despite the earth-shattering revelation that my entire understanding of my family was wrong—I felt my mouth twitch. "Caleb's here?"
"Yep," Lucas confirmed. "And Jacob."
"Jacob?" A fourth brother, quiet and deadly, the one who could disappear into a crowd and reappear with intel no one else could get.
Ethan nodded. "Only two Montana Danes left to bring in after you."
