Page 57 of Enchant Me

On the surface, she’d been nothing but supportive, and yet he knew this wasn’t easy on her. An adult son who was also Sofia’s child. He’d been so caught up in his own confused emotions that he hadn’t had time to truly understand what a nightmare this must be for her.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said to Charles. “But I’ll give him the choice. We already know he doesn’t want anything to do with me. So I’ll offer him regular draws from the trust or one lump payment. I’ll treat it as any other business deal, and at the end of the day, money will be the bottom line.” And maybe that really was for the best. After all, Damien knew better than anyone how little blood really mattered.

“Good,” Charles said. “But you know that’s not the end of it. Son or not, this man’s been harassing you. These are threats to expose very personal matters, and that’s not something we can look the other way on.”

“Agreed,” Damien said.

Ryan shifted in his chair. “I’ve sent Winston and Linda to Illinois,” he said, referring to two operatives in Stark Security. A formerly married couple who were reunited after Winston had spent years thinking his wife was dead.

“I want them to chat up Ashton’s mother,” Ryan continued. “She’s Richter’s half-sister, and I’m curious if she’s the one who’s been telling him lies about you intentionally staying away. For that matter, I want to know what the family told Ashton about Sofia. What was she supposed to have known?”

“I don’t think she knew anything about the baby,” Damien said. “I saw all her psych reports for years. Nothing like this was even hinted at. Nikki suggested she’d repressed it, and I think she’s right.”

“Very likely true, but somebody told Ashton that you knew, they might have said the same thing about her.” He leaned forward. “At any rate, Winston and Linda will see if they can learn anything about his early life. They’ve decided to pose as racing fans. It might amount to nothing, but we might get lucky. And anything to help figure out this guy’s angle will be useful.”

“This all sounds good. In the meantime,” Damien added, pushing back slightly from the table, “I’m going to go see him.”

Charles’s brows rose. “I’d advise against that.”

Damien shook his head. “No, you’ve convinced me. This is all just business. And you know perfectly well that I can handle myself in a business transaction.”

What Damien didn’t say was that he had to see him. Needed to stand right in front of his son and speak with him.

He needed to watch Ashton’s face and study his eyes and discover if it was respect that he saw there, or hatred, or something in between.

And if in the end he realized that he had to walk away and use his checkbook to build a wall around himself and the rest of his family, then he would do that.

He only hoped that he wouldn’t have to.

“What do you want?” Ashton leaned against the doorframe, his eyes on Damien.

“To be honest, Ashton, I’m trying to figure you out. On the one hand, you’re direct as hell. You stood up at my vow renewal and aired your grievances to the world.”

“Noticed that, did you?”

Damien bit back a smile. For better or for worse, he definitely saw himself in this man. “Hard to miss. But what I don’t understand is why you act like the bold, abandoned son in front of the world, but then sneak around in the dark texting threats and defacing my property? Are you confident or a coward?”

He’d been watching Ashton’s face as he spoke, and unless the man was a very good actor, there was genuine confusion in his eyes. “Threats? Defacing property? What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he pressed. “So why not just lay it on the table? What is it you want from me?”

“I don’t want a goddamn thing from you, Stark. Nothing except to take your business away, piece by piece, step by step, and with the whole world watching.”

“Not even your share of the trust?”

Ashton lifted his hands in what looked like an expression of genuine confusion. “Can you just spell it out for me so I at least know why I’m standing in the hall talking to you?”

And so Damien did. He laid out how he’d established a trust, the beneficiaries of which included all of his issue, which was legalese for all of his kids, by birth or adoption.

“Until I showed up, you only knew about the three,” Ashton said. “Expecting a slew of kids like me to start coming out of the woodwork?”

“I’m not sure there’s anyone quite like you, Ashton. And no. It’s just the way lawyers draft things.”

“Well, congrats to you for doing such a good job with your financial planning. But you can leave me out. I don’t want your money.”

Damien studied him, unable to tell if he was playing a game or not. “All right. Let’s say I believe you. Will you invite me in? I’d like to talk.”

“Talk? You’ve had almost three decades to talk to me. Why now?”