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“This fucker invaded our privacy,” Wyatt said.

Gideon stared at Gabriel. It was like looking at Jacob, the two were so much alike. “Dad wants a meeting.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to him.”

“You haven’t?”

“No. A Colton has nothing to do with a Denton. We’re all that’s left.”

Gideon burst out laughing. “You see, that’s funny.”

“Why is it funny?”

“Because you’re not a real Colton, are you, Gabriel?” Gideon asked. “Technically, there’re only three Coltons left.”

Gabriel tensed up.

“What the hell is he talking about?” Emma asked.

“I bet that pissed you off, learning that,” Gideon said.

“You’re not welcome here.”

“Is that why you’ve been attacking us? You’re pissed at Daddy?”

Gideon was happy to take orders, to do what needed to be done, but in the files that Lewis had handed over to him, he’d discovered something else. Lionel Santos was keeping a Maddox Denton secret. A secret that would shake the entire Denton foundation. Gabriel was two months older than Jacob.

Before Maddox met Charlotte, he’d had a little affair with Mr. Colton’s wife, which resulted in a Colton being pregnant. Gideon wasn’t staring at his enemy. He was staring at his half-brother. A brother who knew the truth, and their grandfather had known, which was the only reason that Gabriel was standing in front of him now. The other three were only alive because of their age. Gideon could imagine Gabriel’s anger, rage, and contempt at discovering the truth. Gabriel was after blood, and if the head of the Coltons knew the truth of Gabriel’s parentage, that would have made one hell of an upbringing.

There were many reasons people did the shit that they did, and Gideon wasn’t about to judge Gabriel or the remaining Coltons. There was a way for them to find a resolution to their issues.

“It’s time for you to come home.”

****

Damian knocked on Betty’s apartment door, and waited. Seconds passed, and still she didn’t answer the door. He knocked again. “Betty, it’s me.”

Still no answer, and he heard crying.

Not liking the feeling that was swamping him, he slammed open the door with one shove. Entering the apartment, he gasped when he saw Betty on the sofa, and beside her was a large bottle of pills.

“What the fuck!”

He didn’t understand. Rushing into the main bedroom, he saw Martha was standing there. Her diaper was soiled, and she had taken it off, spreading crap all over the place. He ran back toward Betty, and shook her.

“Betty,” he said.

Shaking her again, he pressed his fingers against her neck, and cried out.

There was no pulse.

Grabbing his cell phone, he dialed for an ambulance. All the time tears were streaming down his face as he stared at the mother of his child. What the fuck had she done?

“What?”

The sound of Harper’s voice alerted him to the fact he wasn’t alone. Without saying a word, he handed her the cell phone, and started compressions on Betty’s chest. “You’re not dying. You’re not dying.”

He couldn’t let her die.

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