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The police commissioner gives him a nasty look before turning his attention to the two police officers. “I want a report back at the station. Leave.”
One of the men starts. “But, Sir—”
“Did I stutter, officer?”
The man swallows and steps back.
Henry rounds towards the social worker. “As for you, you have no case here. It’s flimsy, built on nothing substantial. With all the media frenzy taking place around this couple, fake tips are to be expected. Aside from that, if the relationships of Miss Taylor and her daughter with the men in the photographs have been established, on what grounds are you still harassing them? I’d like your badge number, and your supervisor’s number while you’re at it.”
The woman protests, but she has no choice but to hand over the information.
Zayn hasn’t let go of me throughout. With one hand he holds me, the other is holding Mila’s hand now, as if physically forcing our family to stay together.
Escorting the disgruntled social worker out, Henry eyes Elijah silently for a few moments before leaving.
“Well,” Elijah raises a brow. “That was certainly interesting. Are you all right, Eve?”
I nod, slowly. “That fucking bitch.”
“Language,” Elijah says, mildly.
I grit my teeth and feel Zayn release me.
“How did you know?” The words are barely out of my mouth when Zayn answers, quietly.
“I called him.”
Elijah gives him a fond look, mixed with approval, before finally saying, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet Zayn’s friends. Although, the circumstances could have been better.”
Everyone in the room gives him uncertain looks before murmuring polite words.
Mila rushes towards him, and Elijah leans over and picks her up in his arms, asking soberly, “And you, my little Mila? How do you fare?”
Mila buries her small face in the crook of his neck, her arms around him.
Mila knows her grandfather better than she knows her father and right now she is seeking comfort from him as well.
Zayn doesn’t object. “I want to have a word with you tomorrow.”
Elijah nods over Mila’s head. “Of course.”
It takes a while for Mila to agree to let go finally and Agatha offers to put her to bed. I am too worked up, and I don’t want to agitate her even more. Between Charlotte and Agatha, who offer pleasant distractions to my baby, I stare after them as they take her upstairs.
“Is this ever going to end?” I ask, my voice sounding hollow to my ears.
“It will,” confidence oozes from Elijah’s voice. “I have an urgent matter to attend to, so I have to take my leave.”
He leaves as elegantly as he arrived and once alone with Zayn and his friends, I grasp Zayn’s hand, knowing what is about to follow.
Philip sits down on the couch, staring at Zayn. “Your father’s alive. How long have you known?”
Zayn meets his eyes head on. “Since before I met any of you.”
Ian grits his teeth. “You didn’t think to tell us?”
I feel the way Zayn’s hand tightens on mine. “Elijah is my father by blood. We don’t have any relationship as such.”
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