AARON WALLACE POV

The pounding on the door had finally stopped, the maids had told Mom as we left the suite. But they said she was still there with Keenan, and night had already fallen. It was nearly eight.

Grandpa had summoned everyone to join him in his suite, and we were on our way there. But the urge to break away, slip down to the first floor, and check on Liv tugged at every cell in my body. Bernard, however, was steering us firmly toward Grandpa's suite like we were prisoners.

You see, there are levels of power, some so fierce, that they become a threat even to those who wield it. That's the story of the Wallace family. It's a family-bound society, a legacy you can't turn your back on, escape, or cut ties from. Of course, I've imagined taking Liv and her family far away from the danger that shadows mine, but there isn't a place on earth I could hide where I wouldn't be found. Trying to run would only amplify the danger to Kelby's safety. I couldn't be that reckless, knowing the fate of my ancestors who tried the path of rebellion, putting their love before this family. They paid for it savagely. Their loved ones vanished overnight, and the world never heard a whisper of it.

So don't call my helplessness cowardice. It's not myself I fear for; it's the price that loving me might cost the woman I love. There's no way to win this power game against my family, unless, somehow, I can convince them to accept Liv.

The moment we stepped inside, Grandpa greeted us with a chillingly snide remark, "I see you took your time. Why not? We're all here for a tea party."

"Father, we were having a talk with Aaron," Dad replied respectfully.

Everyone else was already there, following the unbreakable rules, so I understood the accusation of our lateness, but it was my least of concerns.
This was the moment he'd judge my family and decide the punishment for our carelessness—my carelessness.

"The talk you should have had before he got a girl pregnant and then ran from responsibility?" Grandpa fired back, silencing Dad. "Come here, Aaron," he commanded, his gaze locking onto me.

I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs, sensing Mom's encouraging pat on my back before I stepped forward into the tense silence.

When I reached him, he signaled with a single motion. "Lower," he ordered, his voice icy, calm, and lethal. It meant only one thing: wrath.

I swallowed, fully aware of what was coming, but I obeyed, bending down until my head was nearly level with his as he sat. And then—boom. His hand struck the side of my face with a stinging slap, the impact ringing in my ear.

A bitter taste rose in my throat, and my instinct to scream clamped down. At that moment, I understood Lively's hysterical reaction in the hallway when she smashed everything.

"Father?" Dad called out, his voice on edge as gasps filled the room at the sound of the slap.

My heart hammered, stressed between the appetite for showing courage and the cold, certain knowledge that this wasn't the place to act on it.

I'd straightened up right after the slap, but Grandpa once again pointed down, demanding I return to my earlier, stooped position.

I never thought of a day I would say this, but I hate this man.

Fuming, my nails bit into my palm as I clenched my fists. I stalled, fighting every instinct to move.

"Now, Aaron." His voice was disturbingly calm, cutting through the silence. Stupidly, I complied, lowering myself like some beaten dog. His palm landed in the same spot for a second time, the force resounding through my jaw, making my chest heave with all the words I wanted to hurl back, but I didn't dare.

This is humiliating as fuck. Yes, I hate this man.

"OH, ENOUGH, FATHER," Dad yelled, his tone brimming with authority he never used over Grandpa. My vision was hazy with rage. I hadn't noticed him crossing the room until he gripped my arm, pulling me behind him as if I needed protection.

Maybe I did. This was his father, after all.

"You're shamelessly defending him?" Grandpa mocked, his words like acid. "Aaron, is this what you are? A coward?"

Bitterness pooled in my throat. I needed to catch my breath before I could utter a word.

"You will not lay a hand on my son. That's where the line is drawn." Dad's voice held steel, his grip on my arm tightening when I tried to step forward and confront Grandpa.

Grandpa smirked faintly, his knuckles white around the handle of his cane. "You think you can draw a line for me, Robert? You don't have the spine, even under your wife's command." Dad let out a sharp breath right before Grandpa's cold gaze returned to me. "I'll ship you to the ends of the earth, Aaron, where your only purpose will be hunting rabbits to survive. Don't think the blood in your veins makes you irreplaceable. I have six other grandchildren. You're lucky the aviation company still needs what's been drilled into your brain, otherwise, you would have met the darker side of my generosity."

"You don't mean that," Mom's voice broke with a hint of fear.

Grandpa's brow arched at her, I believe, given I don't have a view of behind me to confirm. "Did Robert not tell you about Frank Wallace? Or did you all think he died in that shipwreck?"

A heavy silence fell. I could hear Dad's heart pounding as clearly as my own while Grandpa chuckled at our expressions.

"Oh no, Frank lived, if you can call it that. Well, at least until his death on a deserted island after the rape lawsuit nearly shattered this family's reputation. My grandfather ordered his exile, and not a single bond of blood spared him from it. He was sent to a hell of isolation, with no medicine, no supplies, no shelter. He scraped by on thirty barren acres in the middle of the ocean, dying under branches he'd lashed together for a roof. No wife to enjoy the pleasure of women you so much crave, no family, and he wasn't even granted a place in the family cemetery. That was the fate he chose."

Grandpa's piercing gaze found mine. "You all underestimate the weight of this name. Our ancestors spent years building this empire, and I'll be damned if I let some spoiled generation dismantle it. If it comes to it, I would do exactly what my grandfather did to protect this legacy." His voice dropped into a deadly calm. "Your father might have failed, but DIDN'T I TEACH YOU HOW TO BE A MAN?" His sudden shout reverberated through the room. My eyes closed.

"I was present throughout your childhood. I visited you in Portland, sent for you, called you constantly, and instilled every lesson you needed to uphold the Wallace name. I warned you of the dangers of weakness, and the threats of poor choices, and shielded you from them, too. You should know what comes first, and it is this family. And yet, despite all this, you chose to ignore your duty, sleeping with girls carelessly. And then, when luck favored you by bringing the problem to light before it could spiral, your idiotic self thought you could just throw money at her and walk away." He stomped his cane against the floor, lifting it to point at everyone around the room. "I expected better from all of you. What were you doing that year? If he couldn't handle it like a man, where were the rest of you? This isn't just his problem, it's all of ours. When one Wallace stumbles, we all go down with them. But I guess some of you are only too eager to see one another fall, just to feel superior."

"Father, how can you say that? None of us knew. We're all responsible for the discipline of every child. There's no favoritism," Uncle Joseph defended.

"Oh, spare me. I'm well aware of this petty rivalry that should be aimed at outsiders, not within."

"Come on, Dad," Aunt Kathleen added firmly. "You know this affects us all. What would any of us gain from letting the family drift toward scandal?" She looked at him convincingly but it was all an act I know too well, her words hanging in the air as Grandpa's gaze flicked from one of them to the other, scrutinizing.

"So you're all telling me none of you had a clue about this? What kind of careless family are we? What happened to security here? Why are the children assigned personal guards if they can't do their job? Who's responsible for Aaron?"

No.

"Keenan," Dad answered.

"Dad?" I snapped, pulling away from his grip.

"The bastard knew," Grandpa growled.

"He didn't!" I shot back instinctively.

"SHUT UP."

"I swear he didn't, Grandpa," I said, alarm creeping into my voice. I'd just heard him say the reason I was favored was because only I could run the aviation business. But Keenan, to the family, was easily replaceable.

"Go get him." Grandpa ignored me, ordering Bernard while holding my pleading gaze.

My throat tightened as I struggled to swallow. "No one knew. You're just going to hurt innocent people."

"Not my problem. Maybe that's exactly what you need to witness, to learn the seriousness of making a mistake in my name," he retorted coldly.

The door opened again minutes after Bernard had left.

"Mister Wallace." Keenan's voice sounded, and my heartbeat skyrocketed. A helpless tear I hadn't even noticed slipped down my face, and I quickly wiped it away.

"Why did you fail him?" Grandpa asked, pointing his cane toward me.

"Sir..." Keenan hesitated, lost for words. And that's because he genuinely didn't know.

"SPEAK. NOW."

"I'm sorry, sir. Mister Aaron means everything to me. I would never let him come to harm intentionally."

The fuck?

"I wasn't harmed, Grandpa. I just... got a son." I mumbled, watching as he cast a dismissive glance across the room.

"You took your eyes off my grandson. Was that part of your contract?" Grandpa pressed, disregarding me entirely.

I worked to swallow.

"No, sir."

"Good, so you understand why you deserve consequences for this."

"Yes, sir."

"What the hell? Grandpa, please!" I gritted out. It was all I could do. What is wrong with him? "This is the man who practically raised me. I'm telling you he had nothing to do with this. I messed up, okay?"

"Bernard, do what needs to be done," Grandpa ordered, continuing to ignore me.

A block of defeat hit me like a punch to the gut. I slumped against the table, feeling as though my heart might give out from the pounding. They were making Keenan disappear, and with that, I could barely breathe.

"Fuck!" I heard someone mumbled a cuss, but I actually couldn't care.

"Father, what is this? Keenan is practically family now." My dad scoffed in disbelief while standing above my head.

"Look at the weak generation I'll be leaving behind when I'm gone," Grandpa insulted.

"This is wickedness," Mom spat, fury coloring her words.

"I'm sure you knew what you were joining when you married into this family," he reacted, raising a brow at her under my glare. "This goes for all of you who think you can veer off course. You're all well over twenty. I expect better. I know exactly how to unleash hell, and I'll make you suffer in ways you've never imagined."

For someone who wanted a one, powerful family, he sure has a funny way of setting an example.

"Now, Michael, how critical is this?" Grandpa turned to the family lawyer, who'd been silent until now.

Clearing his throat, Michael began, "It's a very sensitive case, Mister Wallace."

I lowered my face into my hands, encouraging myself to just breathe.

"Say they sue... what are we looking at?" Aunt Kathleen asked.

"Winning the case isn't the issue, ma'am. I'm confident Mister Aaron would win any lawsuit they bring against him. But it's the aftermath that's concerning. The Wallace brand has a long list of rival companies and people eager to believe the worst about your success. If she were to file, it would open the floodgates for slander, public backlash, and a barrage of accusations. Then there're the media. Your family is one of the most watched in the country. We live in an age where information spreads like wildfire. Before you know it, people are boycotting and canceling your businesses. This could be disastrous." He explained carefully.

"So what's the recourse? There must be a solution." Grandpa required.

"Before we consider risky alternatives, I would recommend negotiating with Miss Kelby. That would present a united front, reassuring the public that everything is stable within the family. It would show that she and the child are welcomed, especially with all the pre-wedding buzz." He suggested. That I am up for.

"Kathleen, what's your thought on this?" Grandpa asked.

Wait, what? Of all the people here? Seriously?

"Me?" She sounded startled to be chosen, but was more than ready to use it against us.

"Yes, you. Not that you're any better, but at least your older brother takes the crown for uselessness, so take this one."

"Mister Wallace—"

"Shut up, Cynthia," he snapped, cutting off my mom. "When this is over, you'll also resign and join your husband in retirement. That'll serve you right."

I heard her gasp in shock, a stunned "What?" but he dismissed her and continued, "Kathleen, go on."

"We can't afford any truce with that family. That girl is beneath us. Even if we manage to control this scandal, she'll always find a way to tarnish our reputation in the public eye. That's the last thing we need. Not only does she take bribes, but her actions and words lack any sense of integrity. She has what, a middle school certificate? We can't expect class from that level."

Wow!

Stunned by her pettiness, I tilted my head to look at her. "For someone who claims to be educated, you're awfully unrefined to stoop this low. Are you that threatened by Liv that you had to bring up her schooling to tell yourself something? What's wrong with you?"

"Aaron, didn't I tell you to shut up?" Grandpa scolded.

Ignoring the disapproving look from Aunty Kathleen as she nodded in agreement with him, I clarified, "No one will insult Lively in front of me and expect me to stay quiet. Either you warn your daughter, or I'll set her straight myself."

"Aaron, darling, I'm not against your choice," she continued, dripping with fake sweetness, so she could stay in her father's favor. "I'm just telling you it's beneath your station." I couldn't take it anymore. How could I even vouch for Lively with all this happening? "You saw how crazy she can be. Is that really what you want to deal with? If you'd brought a cultivated girl from one of your schools, do you think we'd even be here? I mean, who's to say you haven't gotten other girls pregnant since a condom isn't exactly your strong suit when you're stoned? But at least those girls are wise enough not to keep the pregnancy and come back six years later. Unlike this girl. She's just a cheap scammer. She knew exactly what she was doing when she left the money you gave her and kept the child. Can't you see it was all part of her plan?" She berated me, completely oblivious to the fact that Lively had been willing to let me never find out about Bubble, which was even the real reason I was upset with her.

A scammer would've used that leverage the first chance they got.

"Well then, get to work. Hunt down all the girls I've slept with. Maybe kill them and make sure they don't have a kid running around. If there are any, I'm sure you know how to deal with them too. That's what this family does best, torture innocent people." I spat.

"Aaron, you're in no position to talk. Everyone here is looking for solutions to clean up the mess you made," Grandpa shot back.

"But I'm not asking for anyone's help," I frustratedly let out, facing him squarely. "Let me handle this on my own. Your 'alternatives' are simply cruel hierarchies forced upon those beneath you. Or am I wrong? Aren't you planning to kill Keenan? You give orders without a second thought, ignoring that these are real people with lives outside of the duties they serve for you. I won't let any of you harm Lively. Torture me if you have to, because you'll find me standing between her and my son." My voice was firm, and it drove Grandpa to rub his face in apparent frustration.

"No one's killing Keenan," he sighed.

"Then let him go," I persuaded.

He scoffed, looking away as if meeting my gaze was too much to bear.

"Grandpa," I called, desperation rising in my voice.

"Aaron, you'll never see that man again. He's lost to you. He failed you, and that was his choice," he declared.

"For god's sake, that's bullshit." I slammed my hand on the table beside me, gritting my teeth. "It shouldn't be your decision."

He closed his eyes for a beat, scratching the bridge of his nose while shooting me a glare. "I'll see the girl's father and find something to compromise on." He informed Benard, irritated.

"No, Father," Aunt Kathleen quickly objected. "You're not stooping that low. I know you're trying to do this for Aaron, but that's what we're all doing. Going there yourself would give them the upper hand. Not to mention, you might be seen by the press. They're already digging into why Aaron recklessly kidnapped a child from a daycare. Theories are starting to form."

A surge of anger pulsed through me at her choice of words.

"Mom?" Mason tried to reason with his mother as my mom let out an amused laugh. "She must have a personal vendetta against us. What else could explain this behavior?"

I couldn't agree more.

"Say what you want, Cynthia. You're not fully a Wallace, so maybe that's why you're being reckless."

"Kathleen, watch your mouth," my dad retorted.

"No, let her speak her mind. At least you're referring to me, a wife, who's legally entitled to adopt my husband's name. But look at you, still clinging to this family, even after all these years of marriage. Why aren't you with your husband's family? Oh, right, because there's nothing there, is there? He's in fact here, picking up the scraps from his wife's side. No offense, Raymond," my mom replied coolly, sending the room into a storm of gasps.

"That was brutal, Cynthia," Aunt Debra remarked, as Aunt Kathleen stood speechless.

I squeezed my eyes shut at the fire I'd started until Benard yelled for silence.

"You all should be ashamed of yourselves," Grandpa muttered in disappointment. "You call this a family, really?"

"You asked for my opinion, and I'll give it to you honestly. Not because I want to be involved in this case anymore, but because of you, Dad." Aunty Kathleen spoke up. "A representative of us will meet with Aaron's burden. Ship them to an island with life-changing money for compensation, and make sure they're fully aware of the consequences of crossing us. Case closed." She said calmly, though pure spite dripped from every word.

Mom laughed just before I could recover from my shock and think of a comeback worthy of my aunt's dark schemes. "You know, Kathleen, I've warned you several times to stay out of my business, but you just can't help sticking your nose in it," Mom said.

"I don't know why you're complaining. Do I need to remind you we wouldn't even be here if you'd taught your son to use condoms? But I guess you were an absent mother, and now your son's turned into a mole problem, hasn't he?"

"The day your mascara will run down your cheeks, I'll enjoy that," Mom threatened, her voice icy. "I'll ruin you to the point where you won't even remember your own name. No one is sending that family away. They stay."

Hearing Mom defend Liv, a small smile tugged at my lips.

"Oh, Cynthia—"

"You two, stop it." Grandpa's cane hit the floor with an aggressive crack again, which by now I had lost count. "We will do as Kathleen said," he declared, instantly extinguishing my smile.

"I will not send my son and his mother anywhere, Grandpa." I stood up, my voice firm. "If you think I've caused enough trouble, you have no idea how far I'm willing to go if any of you lay a finger on Lively or Bubble. My son is a Wallace, and I'm legitimizing him to the public."

"That boy is a bastard. You will not drag us down with you," Aunt Kathleen retorted angrily.

"That will be my sole purpose the moment you dare to even think of bringing your dark delusions near my family. And respectively, aunty Kathleen, fuck you," I said, fuming at her. She gaped at me, mouth hanging open. While someone chortled in the background.

"You—you heard Michael, liars will come forward to blackmail us. Not to mention, in the family history, all births had been within wedlock. So, what does that make the boy? He certainly isn't deserving." Her eyes shot toward Grandpa as she spoke fiercely, needing to be defended.

"The child stays, Kathleen. And to answer your question, he's my grandson. The first of his generation," Mom let out, and I looked over at her with surprise.

Did I hear that correctly?

"What?" "Yes, what?" Several voices echoed around the room, surprised by her uncharacteristic stance, especially since, just an hour ago, she hated Bubble.

"Robert? You're accepting that diseased child?" Aunt Kathleen's face twisted in panic. I couldn't even fathom why Kelby's presence was such a threat to her at this point.

"He is my blood," Dad responded, his gaze unwavering as he addressed his sister. "And his name is Aaron Bubble Wallace. Don't ever call him anything else."

"Wait, what? She named him that? Damn," Emy muttered under her breath, but it was merely just a joke.

"Robert?" Grandpa asked, his voice crossed with surprise and curiosity.

"Father, it's final." Dad stood his ground, defending me. "The boy stays. He will be accepted into this family just like any other child Aaron's cousins will have in the future. No compromises, no alternatives, no excuses. He stays unharmed, and so will the mother's family."

There was a heavy silence. I was too stunned to speak, but when I looked at Grandpa, he appeared thoughtful.

"Micheal, you said this could work?" he broke the silence, his voice neutral.

"Yes, sir," Micheal responded, his voice tight, clearly unsettled by everything he'd just witnessed.

"And you two are willing to handle this?" Grandpa asked my parents.

"Yes, sir," both Dad and Mom sighed, but their resolve was firm, ready to go to battle for me, even against Thomas Wallace.

"All of you?" Grandpa pointed at the rest of the family sitting around.

"I mean, I don't have a problem with it," Uncle Steven remarked casually.

"It's good to have a new generation in the family," Aunt Debra smiled warmly at me.

"Already knew I was an uncle, so," Kyle shrugged proudly.

"What?" Emy and the others immediately looked over at him, Grandpa's glare like daggers.

Kyle looked guilty as he deflected. "I just had an inkling. Don't look at me," he stammered. Man want no slaps out of nowhere.

"We love Bubble, Grandpa. He's a good kid," Dane vouched, taking the attention from Kyle and now all eyes turned to Aunt Kathleen, who clearly wasn't having it. Not that I cared. They said majority carries the vote, so Lively and Bubble are safe in Wallace family.

Her husband stood by her, placing a comforting arm around her shoulder, and spoke on her behalf. "We have no problem with that."

"I will get to work then," Michael announced.

"Aaron, now you fix this," Grandpa said to me, and I nodded as he dismissed everyone. I was the last to leave with my parents.