The onlookers had a point—our company’s growth relied heavily on Ethan’s resources.
Now that I’d brought home illegitimate children and jeopardized my marriage, his business was bound to collapse. No wonder he looked grim.
Like he was venting, my father shoved one of the boys roughly to the ground.
The child cried out in pain.
I hurried to pick him up.
“Dad, what are you doing? These boys are your grandsons.”
Then I turned to Ethan.
“And you—they’re your sons. How can you just stand there while your own sons are hurt?”
Ethan waved his hands frantically.
“No way—those bastards don’t deserve to be called my sons.”
“Melissa Carter, wake up! What man on earth could accept children that aren’t his?”
But before his words settled, a firm voice cut through.
“I can.”
The speaker was none other than the boys’ biological father—Daniel Brooks.
Daniel strode up to Ethan with a cheerful smile, reaching out for a handshake.
But Ethan wouldn’t even look at him, let alone take his hand.
Daniel didn’t mind. He casually lit a cigarette, grinning.