Ethan's mind was still lingering on Ava Sinclair. He wasn't sure why. He tried to shake it off and refocus on the deal he was about to sign in Barcelona. The flight showed an ETA of 40 minutes, and his assistant kept revising the data beside him.
Ethan needed to be sure before acquiring a building in the city. He had spent too much time between Milan and Monaco. Expanding into new markets wasn't just about business, it was about proving to himself that he had built this empire on his own.
A message from his parents popped up on his phone:
We'll be waiting for you at home.
He replied with a simple okay and locked the screen. When the plane landed, Ethan wasted no time. He slipped into his Rolls-Royce and headed straight to La Pedrera - Casa Milà. The staff greeted him warmly as he entered, leading him to the banquet room where his clients awaited.
His ambition had grown beyond real estate—he wanted to expand into hotel hospitality. After going through the tender details twice with his assistant, he was satisfied. He signed the deal, posed for the usual pictures, and without delay, boarded his private jet to Rome. From there, he would take his chopper to Fiumicino—his parents' home.
During the flight, he skimmed through messages, replied to emails, and took a quick look at Ava Sinclair's background. Architect and interior designer. Turning 29 this October. Single now, recently ended a five-year relationship with a neurosurgeon in New York. Lost her father at 17. Has a living mother, younger brother, stepmother, and three half-siblings. 'A big family... Yet you 're alone in Milan. What are you hiding from?' Ethan muttered the details to himself.
His assistant, Luca Albertoz, was a top-tier hacker—a skill Ethan had discovered when he caught him stealing money from his company. Instead of turning him in, Ethan had hired him. Now, Luca provided him with almost any information he needed.
Two hours later, Ethan arrived in front of his parents' which also his adoptive parents, Bruno and Delilah Vescovi, both Nigerian. Ethan had known he was adopted since he learned his ABCs, but it never mattered to him. They had raised him as their own, and that was all that counted. As for his biological parents, they were nothing more than ghosts of the past. If they had willingly given him away, they had no place in his life now.
"Ethan!" His mother pulled him into a hug, kissing both of his cheeks. His father embraced him next.
"It's been a while since you visited," his mother chided gently as they walked inside the bungalow—a home Ethan had gifted them three years ago.
"How have you been, baby?" she asked, leading him to the couch.
"All is well, Mother," he replied with a small smile. She studied him for a moment before asking, "Do you have someone special yet?
Ethan was caught off guard. But what shocked him more was that, for a split second, his mind went straight to Ava Sinclair. What the hell?
"No," he answered quickly. "I don 't have time to waste, mother. I just got back from Barcelona after signing a deal."
His mother sighed. "With your looks and success, I don 't understand why you work so hard, Ethan. We don 't want you to end up alone."
His father, usually silent on such matters, suddenly spoke up. "She's right. You need balance in your life." Ethan raised an eyebrow. Something's off.
He glanced between them. "What's going on?"
His parents exchanged looks before his mother finally spoke. "There's something important we need to tell you," she said hesitantly. "Your birth mother came looking for you."
Ethan froze.
"She wants you to meet your father," she continued softly. A cold wave of anger surged through him. After all these years, after he had forced himself to accept that his biological mother didn't want him, after deciding his birth father was dead to him... now they wanted to see him? After 33 years? His jaw clenched. He stood abruptly, glaring at his parents.
It wasn't their fault. It was theirs. His so-called real parents. They had put him in this situation. But his parents—his true parents—had taken him in when no one else wanted him. Ethan knelt in front of them. Bruno and Delilah Vescovi. Two retired teachers who had given him everything.
He remembered it all—the struggle, the pain of being unwanted. He had built his empire from nothing, and the people who had abandoned him had no place in his life. "I don 't care about them," he said firmly. "You two are my parents. You 're the only ones who matter. I don 't want anyone else. My whole life has been with you." His mother broke down in tears, pulling him into a hug. His father gave him a long, steady look before squeezing his shoulder.
"We love you too, son. But I wouldn't be a good father if I didn't at least let you meet them. She will come again next week." Ethan said nothing. He just stared blankly for a moment before nodding, unwillingly acknowledging the situation.
That night, he stayed with his parents. As he lay in bed, his phone buzzed. Unknown number.
Let's meet tomorrow. I know you 're in town. – Mom.
Ethan nearly threw the phone across the room.
He immediately called Luca. "Track this number." A pause. Then Luca's voice came through. "It's already switched off. The last signal was near Rome." She was here. His birth mother was near. And she wanted to meet him. Ethan put the phone down, trying to sleep. But he kept tossing and turning, his mind restless. It wasn't until nearly 3 a.m. that exhaustion finally took over.
The smell of food woke him the next morning. He rubbed his eyes and stretched before making his way to the kitchen. But as he stepped inside, he froze.
A woman—late 40s, long blonde hair with dark brown roots—was sitting at the table, chatting casually with his parents. Delilah turned and smiled warmly.
"Morning, baby. Hurmm... Your mother's here." Ethan's heart pounded as the woman stood and opened her arms toward him.
"Hi Ethan, nice to meet you." she said softly. "I'm your mother.