Ruthless Revenge

Chapter 15

Holden's POV

Liar...

I stepped away from her, turned my back, strode across the room while I fought for control, furious with myself for losing it, with her for making me lose it.

Why is she so blatantly lying?

She knew I detest liars and yet she was standing there trying to tell me that Kieran isn't my child. I could tell her about the DNA evidence that I'd gathered, maybe then she'll admit the truth.

I frowned and looked around the tiny apartment. "How can you live in this box?"

"It's all I can afford," she responded.

"I can't believe you live in a place like this," I said curtly.

Her response was just as curt. "I can't believe you think it's any of your business."

I frowned.

I could hear Katiana talking to me but I wasn't listening. I was still surveying the apartment... an apartment that she thought was better for my son to live in secret in rather than staying with his father.

I realized that whatever had happened to Katiana since we had severed all contact three and half years ago had not been good. To say the apartment was small would be an understatement. The place was a shoebox. The carpets looked old and stained. Brown spots on the ceiling told me that it leaked too.

The kitchen only had two built‐in cupboards, and a sink, with a small fridge to one side, topped by a miniature rice cooker and two pots. A small black kettle was plugged into a loose socket on the wall. Not safe for a child.

But to Katiana's credit, the place was at least clean, tidy, and smelled of disinfectant.

The door of the bedroom was opened, allowing me to see into the tiny room. There wasn't much to see. Kieran was laying in the center of a double bed in a deep slumber with a stuffed animal hugged to his chest.

My heart ached at the sight. I should have known about him from the beginning. I should have been a part of his life.

I clenched my hands into fists. Although I wasn't a violent man and had never lifted a finger against a woman in my life, I wanted nothing more than to stride across the room and shake Katiana until her teeth rattled. My insides contracted on a burst of anger as years upon years of frustration imploded inside me.

Minutes passed. At last, I swung towards her again.

"How long do you think it will take me to get answers, Katiana? An hour? A day? One call to my lawyer and he'll set the wheels in motion. I'll know where the kid was born—"

"Stop talking about him that way! He has a name. Kieran. Use it!" she shouted.

I sighed. "When was Kieran born?"

"October 7, 2019," she said lying once again.

"Fine." I took out my mobile phone from my pocket and flipped it open.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling my attorney. If you want to do this the hard way, we will. But I promise you, you're only making me even angrier than I already am." My lips twisted. "And that's not what you want. I promise you it isn't."

"No!" she shouted. Maybe she was finally ready to admit the truth.

"Katiana." My voice was soft but my eyes were ice. "What's it going to be? Do we do this my way—or the hard way?"

I watched her face and saw the play of emotions across it. She was shivering, from the cool of the night or from anger. I didn't give a damn.

She deserved whatever anguish she was feeling, "For the last time," I said sharply. "Is Kieran mine?"