Page 79 of Forever King

“Do you know where he was born?”

Again, I have to answer that I have no idea. In truth, I barely know more than he does now.

“No.”

“Where was this Amelia from?” Greene asks, clearly not understanding what I was saying about my relationship with her back then.

“No idea,” I answer as Matthias twists his expression into one of complete revulsion.

“You don’t know much, do you?” he says, obviously unhappy with me now.

Before I can again say we weren’t in that kind of relationship, Greene says, “Well, I can see what I dig up. Are we thinking this is a rush job?”

Matthias leans forward toward the phone and says, “As fast as you can, Greene. I’ll make it worth your while since I know you probably have other things you’ve got going on.”

“Okay, Matthias. I hear you. Fast and full report. I’m on it. Hang tough, guys. I’ll get back to you as soon as I have something.”

The PI ends the call, and I sit there wondering how the fuck my life got turned upside down with one vague message. If there was ever a day I wish I had called off, it’s today.

“Don’t worry. Greene will find out all there is to know.”

I know my brother is trying to be supportive, but finding out anything more isn’t going to make how I feel right now any better. If what Emily said is true, I don’t know what I’m going to do because Salem doesn’t even want to get married, much less have kids. Even more, if she did change her mind about kids, I highly doubt she’d want someone else’s child in her life.

What a mess.

Then I remember how fast news travels in the King family. “Hey, don’t tell anyone about this, okay? Not even Ava. The last thing I need is having everyone knowing about this before I find out what’s really going on.”

Nodding, my brother says, “Okay. How are you going to break this to Salem?”

That I actually know the answer to. “I’m not. Not until your PI there finds out something definitive. Until then, only you and I know about this, okay?”

Again, Matthias pledges not to say a word about the possibility that I have a son out there, a four-year-old I’ve never met who’s named Elias. I know he likes to tell Ava everything, but God, I hope he can refrain from sharing this with her.

I don’t need to have the entire family ganging up on me for this screw up.

29

Salem

My day had been going sowell. Chase and his lovely wife who I suspect can’t stand him sat for the interview with Kathleen Murray, the hottest journalist on the planet at the moment, at least in my circles, and were killing it. They said all the right things, all the right way, and I knew I’d chosen the right reporter to do the job. We were hitting it out of the park.

It all had started off so great. Then, in a flash, it all went to hell.

I knew when Kathleen suggested they take a break halfway through that something had happened that would hurt us. There was something about the way she looked over at me after her phone vibrated on the table off screen that told me all was not well.

Chase knew it too. As soon as he heard it, he suddenly began looking like a deer in the headlights. For her part, I don’t think Cheyenne had a clue what was about to happen. I may not respect her after finding out she likely is in this relationship with Chase solely because it benefits her bottom line, but shedid exactly what I needed her to do in that interview. Her voice remained soft but resolute as she spoke about her love for him and how she was determined they would move forward in love. She smiled just big enough to convince viewers she could be happy. She couldn’t have done a better job if she tried.

And all of it was shot to hell because her idiot husband can’t keep his dick in his pants.

My mind whirls as I stand in front of Kathleen at this moment with her asking me if we want to continue now that the news has broken that Chase and the fucking nanny were seen leaving the Hotel Charlmont last night right after eleven. No, we can’t continue, for Christ’s sake! We have to regroup, and to be honest, I have to decide if I can even work with that asshole after this mess.

I can’t say that, though, so I plaster a smile on my face and answer, “Let me talk to my client, Kathleen. Give us a few minutes in private, if you will.”

She’s gracious but doesn’t hide the smug smile every journalist gets when they know they’ve uncovered what at least will be the story of the week, if not the month. I don’t blame her. I’d be thrilled if I were her too.

I walk through the door to the hotel room next door and find the happy couple sitting on opposite sides of the bed facing way from one another. I’d say that’s pretty symbolic. Why Chase isn’t on his knees in front of his wife begging for her forgiveness baffles me, but he doesn’t seem to have the sense God gave a horse.

Rubbing my temples, even though I know the headache forming behind my eyes is going to be a doozy, I blow the air out of my lungs and try to find the words I need to stay professional while relaying to them how utterly fucked we are right now. I honestly don’t know if I can fix this, and that’s not something I admit lightly.