AARON WALLACE POV

"Let her keep him and leave this place," Mom's voice punctured through the pause with harsh condescension. An urge to press my fingers to the ache growing behind my forehead made me clench my jaw, but I forced myself to stay composed.

Lively, though, wasn't as restrained. Her expression faltered to dejection for a second before she recovered, replaced with a fury flashing in her eyes as she stormed toward the stairs. "Bubble?" she called out, her voice sharp, and I instinctively stepped in her path, blocking her.

"What is your mission here? Trying to scare him? Talk trash about me?" I kept my tone steady, trying to defuse her rage.

She wrenched her wrists free from my grip and shoved me back. Not that I budged, but I felt her anger in the hit, and its force in her glare.

"I had five years to do that, and I should've. But you're not even worth mentioning to him. You're not part of his life. You don't exist for him. Final." I could tell she was summoning every ounce of bitterness that lived to make it sting.

"We'll see about that." I'd meant to reason with her, but her words hit like knives, twisting my reply harsher.

"Are you threatening me?" Her voice softened with disbelief. And everything in me wanted to take back what I'd said. "Don't push me, Aaron. Don't make me say things that hurt. We both know you wouldn't be fighting like this if things had gone your way." She pushed past me, intent on reaching him, and it felt like an iron fist clamped around my heart. But I caught her arm, stopping her.

"He's not going anywhere."

A frustrated hand threaded through her hair. "Aaron, look, you've always been selfish. You've done it at his expense before, and now you're risking his treatment, too. He needs to be home." She spoke calmly, but with a tincture of derision.

"He'll get all the care he needs better with me," I promised, holding my ground.

Her brief calm facade cracked, and she snapped, "Aaron, his surgery is in two days. What is wrong with you?"

Does she think I don't know that? That I am not anxious about his health?

"I told you, I have better resources, and I'll use them to make sure he gets well. You don't have to worry." I'm not about to let her take him from me. He is the blessing to everything I thought I'd lost, my second chance to become a different person. Not only do I have him as a son, but he's also my link to seeing Lively, something she wants to sever, but now it won't happen.

"Not worry?" Her voice dropped to a furious whisper. "This from the man who signed off on terminating his son before he even took his first breath. Of course, I'm worried. You've given me every reason to be."

"I see we're not going to talk like reasonable people," I replied with a sour taste on my tongue.

She wasn't giving me a chance. Panic had fueled her deeply rooted hatred for me, and she was drawing a conclusion I couldn't agree with.

With a deep, exhausted sigh, she pulled her hand away from me, her eyes red and puffy from tears. "Why are you doing this?"

Damn it. I hated this. Hated every bit of what was happening. I hated that we were tearing each other apart in front of people who wished for this. "Let's talk, please."

"Why, Aaron?" she refused, her voice breaking. "Tell me why you're doing this." She wiped her tears away, but they kept coming.

"You lied. Right to my face, you lied. I trusted you." I couldn't wrap my head around the cruelty of sending me away, which I could have never known about Bubble.

"Don't bring trust into this. I've tried the best I could. You wanted nothing to do with him. You wanted him gone. We both know I feared telling you about him, not knowing how you'd react to the fact that I defied your order." Her choked voice was barely a whisper.

"No, no, no," my head shaking involuntarily at her last words. That was unfair to say when I had opened up to her completely.

"You paid to have him aborted, Aaron." Her trembling hand shot out to point at the door. Her gaze landed on Kyle in the crowd, watching with a crushed expression. "Kyle brought the money. Harold was there, too," she said, scanning the faces of her witnesses. "I am not crazy. Didn't I leave your money out there?" Her eyes met mine, demanding a truth I couldn't deny. Harold did bring the money back after she'd left. Which was why I still grappled to understand why she'd accepted it from my mother. She was different and everything I needed and wanted. The knowledge that I was out of options to show her my regret burned through me. I'd give anything to make things right with her now, to let her see how much I've changed.

"A victim's memory is a journal of compiled remembrances. Line by line, every detail is inscribed there without fading," she said, her voice low. "You may have forgotten, but I didn't. You wanted me to get rid of him because 18-year-old Aaron Wallace impregnating a 15-year-old would've tainted your family's spotless name. My life and existence were collateral. The pregnancy wasn't yours to carry, the shame wasn't yours to bear. Nothing can tie you to Bubble at the time. You got to move on like you didn't destroy me."

I couldn't find the words to defend myself. She'd beaten me with the truth. I wanted to sit under the weight of it, but I forced myself to stand, feeling the full gravity of my past cruelty towards her and Bubble.

"You sent me away six months pregnant, expecting me to 'take care of it' when he was already kicking." Her voice softened, finding my eyes as I dipped my head, feeling sick to my stomach with guilt. "You were either ignorant or indifferent to what that would have done to me. The procedure you wanted was suicidal for someone in my state. But as long as it kept your precious image intact. You'd have your attorney wipe any trace of me if it came to that, wouldn't you?" she accused, and the worst part was, she was right.

Self-loathing twisted in my stomach as I stood there, unable to face her. I'd never been in this position, pinned under the trial of my own mistakes.

"You should have kept your legs closed." A voice interjected, cutting through my misery and stoking my anger.

"Mom, shut up," I warned, not that she ever listened.

"Liv, come with me. Let's talk somewhere private." I plead softly, hoping to pull her from this humiliating scene. She looked defeated, wounded by my mother's words, but she let me take her hand without a fight.

I started to lead her to the billiard room, but, of course, my mother wasn't finished. She blocked our path; her face was tight with disdain. "She doesn't belong in this house."

The bile rose in my throat, choking me. "Mom, step aside."

"I will not," she sternly retorted.

Liv's patience snapped before I could handle the situation, and I felt her pull her hand from mine. My eyes closed briefly as I braced myself.

She moved forward, squaring off with my mother.

"I would entertain this 'boy mom' nonsense, but honestly? You're laughable." She gave a short, brazen laugh, watching my mother's face go pale with disbelief. "You have no room to speak in this situation. I'll give you a little time to understand that because the so-called power you hold is fragile in my hands."

My mother's anger reignited. "Fucking bitch, what are you on to—" Her hand came up to slap Liv.

I moved on instinct, catching her wrist mid-swing. "Mom, I said stop. Do. Not." I thundered,

Her eyes widened in disbelief before she pulled back, stumbling a little.

"Liv, please, come with me. Let's just talk."

My attempt at calming the situation was pointless. Her gaze cut right past me, landing back on my mother.

"Let's say I slap a lawsuit on your son. You know better than anyone what that would do to you," she said, her tone venomous, stepping closer while my mother shrank back. "For example, the whole world getting to react to how a 15-year-old girl was drugged, manipulated, taken advantage of, and then forced into a near-lethal abortion? Imagine the headlines in ten minutes. Aaron. Wallace. Is. An. Abuser. The Wallace family's real faces exposed." She drew each word out, leaving my parents shell-shocked. I caught Kyle's gaze across the room, his face drawn with regret, as Liv went on, casting a look around the room until her eyes fell on Aunty Kathleen. "More victims will speak up. There will be more buried secrets dug up. Maybe the rest of the men in this family have done similar things, and this is how the entire Wallace family will come crashing down. Lawsuits flying all over your heads."

She has to be bluffing. I know her. She wouldn't do that... or would she?

"Lively, please, stop this. For Bubble's sake," Emy pleaded, raking her hands through her hair.

"Then get me my son," Liv demanded.

"Aaron, please, this is insane. Just hand him over and work this out before Grandpa hears about it," Emy begged, eyes wide with panic, though the two boys at her side shook their heads in silent opposition, assuring support.

"He's not going anywhere," I said flatly, my decision final.

"Aaron, goddamn it," my father swore irritably.

Liv let out a bitter laugh as she pivoted to face me again. "You'll give me my son and get on your stupid plane back to whatever hellhole you crawled out of. That's the end of it." She closed the gap between us quickly, her hands striking my chest repeatedly.

"He's my son too. My blood runs through his veins. I'll be in his life just like you are," I shot back, trying to stop her relentless assault.

"Bullshit. Legally, you have no son, and you know it. I'm in his life because I stayed. I wasn't a coward."

"We talking about legalities?" I finally managed to hold her hands in place, but her eyes were daggers. "If you really know what that word means, then you know you can't just take him from me."

"You took that from yourself, Aaron. Not me," she fired back. "Wasn't I here trying to give you a shot at being part of his life? What did you say? You didn't want your precious self associated with him. Why are you even defending this? When did you turn into a liar?" Her breath was labored as she wriggled her hands to break free.

"Go get the fucking child," my mother interjected sharply. "I'm done with this. The yelling and the lack of respect and refinement. That isn't how we operate here."

For fuck's sake.

"Aaron, I hate you." Liv's voice cracked with piercing pain as she locked eyes with me over my mother's utterance. Her heartache was there, clear as day. Her gaze seemed to say everything—I told you so, without a word.

I just wanted to hold her, but she hated me, so I couldn't.

"STOP FUCKING GETTING INVOLVED AND SHUT THE FUCK UP. MY SON STAYS WHERE HE IS!" my voice rumbled. My hands finally let go of Liv as my anger turned to my family.

"I'll get him, Aaron," Liv said behind me, seizing the moment to take a few steps toward the stairs before I could react. I grabbed her again with frustration reaching my throat. "They hate him. Please, let him be where he's loved," she pleaded, her voice breaking.

I wanted to side with her, to give her what she wanted, but anger swirled in my gut at how she fooled me. She wasn't willing to stand by me. "You could punish me, keep me from seeing him, do whatever feeds your anger. But you could give me hope for his existence. Not deceive me." I'd already been deprived of the chance to have kids. I cried in her arms. She knew the regret I'd carried, the genuine growth I'd made. I couldn't undo the past, but I'd give anything to make up for it. Wasn't I already paying my dues? "What kind of hell do you want me to endure?"

"Maybe the kind you so rightly deserve. You always get things your way, and you always will. You don't deserve the happiness he could bring you, so I'll take my son. I've been his mother for six years, through the highs and the lows, while you just waltzed away without a second thought after that summer."

She was exhausted, and she wasn't looking for a solution. She wasn't ready for this conversation. We will revisit it when she calms down.

"I'll have Keenan take you home. You need rest, and we'll talk tomorrow," I said, forcing the words past the lump in my throat.

"I'll sue you," she threatened, choking on the words as she tried to break free from my grip.

"You won't win," I said firmly, confident in my stance. I wouldn't even let her try. Is not like I was taking him away from her, like she was trying to do to me. I am offering us a do-over. "He stays here. You know you have a choice. Sleep on it. He needs a father."

"He already has a father," she spat defiantly.

"He has a grandfather," I corrected her gently. "I'm here. Don't take that from him. You want him to have it all, a mother and a father. Liv, it's not too late. We can raise him together."

I just needed her to see things my way.

"Now suddenly you know what's best for the child you once accused me of having with all those men you imagined, just so you could keep yourself clean?" She mocked bitterly, and for a moment, I was silenced by the sting of her words.

"Look, I'm trying, okay? I'm trying to be present. That's all I'm asking for."

"Of course. But to hell with your trying. You're so egotistical, so cruel—just like the rest of your family. Let me go." She pulled away, her face contorted with fury and grief as she rushed for the stairs. "BUBBLE?"

He wouldn't hear her. He was somewhere else in the house. But I tried to hold her back, my hands reaching for her. She slipped away, her breath ragged, tears streaking down her face as she stumbled down the three steps, rage consuming her. Before I could understand what she was doing, she swept her arm across the side table in the hall, sending antiques crashing to the floor in a cacophony of shattered glass and wood.

I froze in shock, along with everyone else in the room.

"GIVE ME MY SON." She moved to the next table, her rage scaring everyone into backing away.

"What's going on?" I heard Mason ask from behind me, but my body was frozen in place, too stunned to react.

"Please, just give her the boy," someone murmured, panic rising in their voice.

"I want my son," Liv cried, continuing her destruction, the floor now littered with broken glass and splintered wood. The guards just stood there, unsure of what to do, until my mother, overwhelmed, dramatically yelled, "Contain her. She's tearing this place down."

No one moved to obey. Keenan looked at me, his eyes full of uncertainty and concern. "Mr. Wallace?" he asked, seeking my permission.

I glanced at Liv, now hammering her fists against the family portrait on the wall, her knuckles torn and bleeding from the force she was using, and it was clear she wouldn't stop.

She wouldn't hear me. "I'm not leaving here without Bubble," she whispered through her breathless sobs.

It tore me apart to muster a slight nod with the fragile strength I had left, but I knew it was for her own safety. She was hurting herself and watching her was the most agonizing thing I'd ever witnessed.

I could lock her away in a room until she calmed down, and then we could talk, but that didn't feel right.

"Take her home," I told him, feeling a reassuring, firm squeeze on my shoulder. Mason, I assumed.

Then a guard seized her, and she fought helplessly. "No, no, no! I have to leave with him. Aaron, please. Please, no!" she cried, her eyes begging until the door slammed, taking her pleas with it.

Struck by a pain I couldn't put into words, the sound of violent banging from the other side of the door followed within seconds, amplifying my grief. My legs carried me down the stairs, and I sank into a seat, my gaze fixed on the front door, feeling the knock right through my chest.

I'd told Keenan to take her home. Why was she left there to cry? Every fiber of me wanted to make her stop hurting, but I was powerless. It felt as though my body had been crushed under a truck.

Minutes dragged by as I fought to regain my composure. Then footsteps approached, followed by a sharp tug on my arm, pulling me upright. I glanced over and saw Dad, ushered by Mom. He led me up the stairs, while Lively's frantic banging continued.

As we passed the second-floor windows, I heard Lively's faint plea, "He needs to take his medication, Aaron, please."

Mom grabbed my other arm, stopping me from turning around, like a troubled child being dragged along. She quickened her pace until the sound of Lively's cries faded into silence.

When we reached our suite, they shoved me in and slammed the door behind us.

There was a pain in my heart I never experienced.

"What is this disgrace?" My mother's slap collided with my cheek as she fumed. The numbness in my body dulled the impact, so the slap barely registered.

"All that we've built for you is about to crumble, and it's you who dug your own grave?" she spat, seething with rage.

"Ever think to inform us?" Dad shook his head, but my mind was miles away, still fixed on the front door, wondering if Keenan had finally taken Liv home.

"This is exactly what I've been afraid of, but I was dismissed as the one causing chaos," Mom remarked bitterly.

"This isn't the time for 'I told you so,' Cynthia."

"Don't even start," she snapped at Dad. "It's time for you to face the truth: you failed at teaching him how to be a man."

"Oh, so what was I supposed to do? Goddammit, he hid it from us!" Dad's voice rose, equally harsh.

"Seriously, Robert? Don't tell me you're clueless even with all the resources this family has. You could've done better. Had men following him, since he clearly needed that. For God's sake, why am I the only reasonable one here?" Her hand flung out in frustration. "You should've had someone investigating what he was doing. You said Keenan was keeping an eye on him, but instead, he was getting his dick wet in high school. Now, look, at 23, his past is already catching up to him. Something even Thomas, in his old age, doesn't have to deal with. Well done." She clapped her hands together sarcastically.

Dad went silent after that. I took the benefit of the short pause and sat down, trying to settle my racing thoughts before my heart and mind exploded from the mess swirling inside.

"I feel like she wants nothing to do with us," Mom paced back and forth as she came to a decision. "So, we'll give her the child, add some money to keep her quiet. This time, we'll get them a house, maybe in Asia, Europe, or Africa, just somewhere far from any of our properties, and we'll keep a close watch on their every move, maybe get her old man a job, so they don't go public or do anything reckless."

"I'll make the calls. It'll be taken care of before Father completely loses it," Dad promised her, his footsteps heading toward the balcony to execute Mom's plan.

"I can't have children," I confessed, staring blankly into space. My face was marked by a frown as the words sank in.

Mom's pacing stopped, and Dad's footsteps faltered.

"What do you mean?" Dad's voice quivered with dread.

"He's my only chance. I can't have children, ever," I whispered. The space beside me suddenly sank as Mom situated herself closer.

"No, my love, you're just caught up in the idea of that girl. I get it, but look at me." A hand cupped my face as Mom's voice buzzed in my mind, but I couldn't feel her words. "You will have a beautiful family, children, a refined, well-educated woman by your side. Okay?" She tried to soothe me, but my gaze fell away from hers, which reflected the animosity she held for Lively and her family.

"You're not listening to me. I'm biologically incapable of ever having a child."

"Aaron, look at me." Dad squeezed my hand, sitting on the coffee table, facing both Mom and me.

"I've had treatment for years. No one can fix me." My eyes locked onto Dad's hand, holding mine. "I won't have children if I lose Bubble. His existence is a miracle, you know. I lost hope a long time ago. Loving Lively the way she deserved was the only thing I could do because I couldn't shake the guilt. What if I hadn't hurt her the way I did? Would I have been tested like this? You have to admit, I hurt her badly, Mom. You all did. And still, it's because of her that I would ever have a child. Bubble is my future, my heir. He's all I have, all I will ever have, and all I can give you to ensure our legacy carries on. I'm sorry."

Mom slumped back into her seat, despair washing over her. Her glare burned into me as Dad stood, pulling at his hair.