The Billionaire Prince and His Secretary

Chapter 21

Ember POV

My mind reeled. “What? That’s impossible. My parents–”

“Are not your biological parents,” Mr. Blackwood interrupted. “They took you in after your mother left. I’ve been looking for you ever since.”

I shook my head, refusing to believe him. “This is crazy. Why should I believe you?”

“I have proof,” he said, pulling out a folder from his desk. “DNA tests, old photos of your mother. She named you Ember before she left.”

I couldn’t grasp what Mr. Blackwood was saying. I was that child? The room seemed to spin as his words echoed in my mind. My heart raced, a storm of disbelief and confusion crashing over me. The life I thought I knew now felt like a fragile facade, ready to crumble at the slightest touch. Everything I had believed about myself, my family, my past, was suddenly shrouded in doubt. Could it be true? Was I truly the daughter he had lost so long ago?

I glanced at the folder, but I couldn’t bring myself to open it. “Why now? Why come for me now?” There was no way I was going to believe him. DNA his ass! Did he think I was that stupid? How could he know I was his daughter through DNA testing? My so-called biological mother was gone and I didn’t undergo any testing! I was about to laugh at him, but controlled myself. I would have to check how he would answer my questions.

“I didn’t know where you were until recently,” he said. “When I saw you at that auction, I knew it was you. I knew I had to bring you home.”

“With just one look, you knew I was your missing daughter? And home?” I echoed. “My home is with my parents. With John.”

Mr. Blackwood’s eyes darkened at the mention of John. “John doesn’t know the truth, but I know he is wary of me. Ember, sweetheart, he can’t protect you from what’s coming.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my heart pounding.

“There are people who want to use you against me,” he said gravely. “You’re in danger, Ember. Real danger. I need to keep you safe.”

“I don’t need your protection,” I said defiantly. “I can take care of myself.”

“Please, Ember,” he pleaded. “Just hear me out. Let me show you evidence. Then you can decide what to do.”

I hesitated, my mind racing. Could he be really telling the truth? If he was, it would change my life. Everything. But if he wasn’t, I was in even more danger than I thought. “Fine,” I said finally. “Show me.”

Mr. Blackwood opened the folder. Inside were documents, photos, and DNA test results. The resemblance between my mother and me was uncanny. The DNA test confirmed our relationship.

“This can’t be real,” I whispered. The DNA test was dated a few months after I was born. “Where did you get this? How did you get this?” I demanded. “Did you get to see my mother again? Where is she now?”

“It is real,” Mr. Blackwood said gently. “I’m your father, Ember.” That was all he said without answering my other questions.

I looked up at him, my emotions in turmoil. “What do you want from me?”

“Just a chance to protect you,” he said. “To make up for lost time. To be your father.”

I felt overwhelmed, torn between the life I knew and what I had just discovered, if it was the truth. “I need time,” I said. “I need to think.”

“Take all the time you need,” Mr. Blackwood said. “But can you move to another place? I have a friend. He owns an apartment. I can give you security and everything you need. It will be safer there.”

“No,” I replied firmly. “Did you expect to come into my life and I will do anything you say? I’m sorry not sorry. I told you I need time. I had not accepted anything you have told me. So back off. I need to go. You have taken so much of my time already.”

“You don’t understand, Ember. I–”

“It’s you who do not understand.” I stood up clutching my bag. “I’ll go now.”

“At least, let me get you where you need to go,” he offered.

“No, but thank you.” I left Mr. Blackwood’s office, clutching the folder filled with evidence against my chest. His voice trailed behind me, but I tuned out his incessant talking. It was all a blur until he mentioned John’s name. My body tensed as he warned me not to tell anyone, especially John, because it might jeopardize my safety. I turned around, my eyes piercing through him with a mixture of anger and fear.

“Don’t follow me. Don’t contact me. When I’m ready, I’ll reach out to you,” I said.

Mr. Blackwood raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, but I didn’t trust him. I quickly pressed the close button on the elevator and watched the doors shut, cutting off his presence. The moment I was alone, a wave of relief washed over me, and I felt my knees tremble. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. There was no time to collapse; I needed to get away from that building, from him.

When the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, I stepped out and hurried through the lobby, my heart pounding in my ears. The fresh air outside was a stark contrast to the suffocating tension I had just left. I spotted a bus approaching and made a beeline for the stop. I had no idea where it was headed, but any place was better than there.

I boarded the bus, found a seat, and sank into it, clutching the folder tightly. As the bus rolled through the city, I stared out the window, the streets blurring into a haze of motion. My mind raced with thoughts of what I had just learned. Could it be true? Was I really Mr. Blackwood’s lost daughter? And what did it mean for me, for my life with John?

After a while, I saw a random bus stop and decided to get off. I walked aimlessly, my thoughts still a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. When I stumbled upon a small coffee shop, I stepped inside, hoping a strong coffee would help me collect my thoughts and wake me up from this nightmare.

The barista handed me my coffee, and I found a secluded corner to sit in. I took a sip, the bitter taste did not sit well with my tongue, but hopefully it was just a case of acquired taste. I opened the folder, my hands shaking slightly, and began to sift through the documents. Birth certificates, old letters, photographs–it was all there, a puzzle of my past slowly coming together.

As I pieced together the evidence, my mind kept drifting back to John’s warning about Mr. Blackwood. I felt a pang of guilt for not calling my driver as John had insisted. This situation could have been avoided if I had just followed his advice. But it was too late for regrets now.

I pulled out my phone and stared at it. I needed to talk to John, to tell him everything. But Mr. Blackwood’s warning echoed in my mind. If John knew, it might put me in more danger. I stared at my phone then put it back inside my bag. The decision not to tell John immediately weighed heavily on my mind. It was a delicate balance between wanting to share everything with him and needing to investigate further on my own. Everything about Mr. Blackwood’s revelation seemed absurd. I could even say it was out of this world. If he truly believed I was his daughter, why wait until now to approach me? Why not contact my office instead of having me followed?

As I mulled over these questions, it struck me that our meeting in Greece might not have been a coincidence at all. The more I thought about it, the more suspicious it seemed. And then there was the issue of my parents–the people who had taken me in and cared for me all my life. What should I do about them? Would I be ready to shake our relationship?

I had to get answers somehow and somewhere, and the only way to find more truth was to talk to my parents.

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.

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Arriving at my parents’ house later that day, I felt a mixture of nostalgia and anxiety. The house looked the same as always, but today, everything felt different. I knew that whatever I uncovered could change my life forever. As I approached the door, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever was to come.

“Ember! We were wondering what time you would come!” My mom’s face lit up as she opened the door with Dad behind her.

“Hi, Mom. Dad,” I greeted them both, hugging them tightly. I tried to keep my voice steady and my actions normal. “I’ve missed you so much.”

We moved to the dining room where the familiar smells of home-cooked food enveloped me, but I found little comfort in them that day. We ate lunch, and as expected, they asked a lot of questions about work and the recent wedding of Alya and Leo.

“So, how was Greece?” my mom asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“It was amazing,” I replied, forcing a smile. “The history, the culture, the food…everything was wonderful.”

“And what about John?” my Dad interjected.

“He’s…fine,” I said. I did not feel like talking about him, but I owed them the truth. “He’s now my boyfriend.”

They didn’t seem to be in shock, but they looked like they were waiting for me to say something more. I raised my eyebrows, prompting my mom to speak. “Well, somehow we knew this would happen. You look so intimate in the videos and photos.”

“How's your relationship with him affecting your work?”

“We are trying to keep things normal in the office. It’s challenging,” I admitted. “But we’re managing. He’s very supportive.”

They seemed satisfied with my answer, though I could see the worry in their eyes. I gave them the souvenirs from the trip after lunch, some trinkets and magnets to put on the fridge. They were delighted, but I could barely focus on their reactions. My mind was racing, trying to find the right moment to drop the question that had troubled me all morning.

After a few minutes of small talk, I finally couldn’t hold back any longer. I took a deep breath and steadied my voice. “Mom, Dad…I need to ask you something important.”

Their expressions shifted from joy to confusion, and then to concern. My dad put down his tea cup, leaning forward. “Is there anything wrong, Ember?”

“I…I met someone recently. Orion Blackwood. He claims that he’s my biological father.”

The room fell into an eerie silence. My mom’s face went pale and my dad looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Ember,” my dad began. There was a long pause again. My dad looked at Mom for a brief second before shifting his gaze back to me. “We need to tell you the truth then.”