Chapter 4 The Wrong Son

• Both ran to the café near moonlight street. Izzy, expecting to recognize the familiar face she had been dreaming about, got disappointed. No one was there. They entered inside, searching and turning tables to see if Nolan at least dropped an item she could recognize, but none. Ben swore up and down that he’d seen Nolan there.
• Izzy stared at the café's large glass window, one hand gripping her phone, the other trembling at her side after being kicked out by the manager.
• The disappointment hit deeper than expected. Izzy’s heart sank to the low bottom. She went back home and told Ben to do the same. Later that night, he called her on the phone.
• “You’re really sure it was him?” she asked, voice low.
• “I told you, Iz,” Ben said on the other end. “Same face, blond hair like yours. He was sipping tea and reading a damn magazine made for male gaze like he has no shame.”
• Yeah, that does sound like Nolan. But if Izzy could remember clearly, Nolan wasn't the type to read those types of stuff in public.
• Her heart beat so loud she could barely hear herself think.
• “Did he have the wrist tattoo?” she asked.
• Ben paused. “…What?”
• “You heard me. The tattoo of a bird soaring in the sky? The one I begged him not to get.” Her voice cracked. “The one he said would stay between us.”
• “I—I don’t know,” Ben stammered. “He wore a jacket. I didn’t see his wrists.”
• The phone shook in her hand. Her chest felt tight like her ribs were lined with barbed wire.
• “Maybe it was just someone who looked like him,” Ben offered gently. “I tried to walk up to him but I guess he left before I did.”
• Izzy sank into her chair, forcing herself to breathe slowly. She couldn’t afford to fall apart—not yet. Her world had already come undone once. It wouldn’t happen again.
• If Nolan was alive…
• Why hadn’t he told her?
• Why did he leave her to face the wolves alone?
• Why had he let her believe he was dead?
• And worse—
• Who the hell had she buried?
• “Look, we’ll figure it out,” Ben said quietly.
• There was silence. Not the comforting kind, but this one hung like a question mark.
• “So…” he said after a beat, “you’re still going through with it? With the plan?”
• Izzy didn’t answer right away. Her eyes flicked to the wall where Liam’s profile was pinned with red strings and inked notes like a spiderweb.
• “Yes,” she finally said. “It’s going well. Liam’s in. He’s helping me gather everything; past deals, contracts, associates, under-the-table events. Everything Thomas touched with dad.”
• She stood up and paced slowly to the wall, her fingers gently touching and tracing the red strings until it met the red pin attached to Liam's portrait. She slammed her her palm on the photo, her veins popped out, anger seething from her mouth. Why did he fake his death?!
• “I’m going to find every rat who fed off our bones when the lawsuits hit. I’m going to make them bleed.”
• “By using Liam?”
• “Yes.”
• Another silence perched in. But this one stretched longer.
• Izzy narrowed her eyes like she could see Ben over the phone. “What is it?”
• Ben’s voice hesitated. Now, Izzy knew something was wrong. She hated it if Ben hesitated like that. “Ben,” she urged.
• He sighed. “I think…we went after the wrong guy.”
• Izzy’s world tilted.
• “What?”
• “I did some digging,” Ben said, his voice flat, like he already regretted it. “And I found something. Something we didn't notice.”
• Izzy didn’t move. The tension in her shoulders was like wires ready to snap.
• “Spit it out.”
• “Liam,” Ben said slowly, “isn’t Thomas’s real son.”
• The room dropped ten degrees. Izzy’s mouth went dry.
• “That’s impossible.”
• “It’s true. He’s adopted. The media doesn’t know because Thomas buried it deep. But Liam was taken in after his mother died. No blood relation.”
• Her fingers curled into fists. “Are you telling me I’ve spent months planning revenge with the wrong goddamn target?”
• “It gets worse.”
• She laughed once, humorless as the sound cut through the thick atmosphere.
• “Worse?”
• Ben cleared his throat. “Thomas has a real son. Name’s Yves Rodriguez. He’s been abroad for years. Switzerland, maybe France. His info was private and locked. I couldn't see more.”
• Izzy sat down hard. What? Yves? I've never heard the name before. Will this be all in vain?
• Everything started unraveling in her head like threads tugged loose.
• All the manipulation. All the strategy. She had wrapped her entire plan around Liam, just because she thought he was Thomas’s own blood.
• She had married him, seduced him into helping and risked everything.
• And now?
• He was just another piece. A discarded pawn thrown away from the game.
• “You’re sure?” she asked.
• “Yes.”
• “I need proof.”
• “I’ll send the documents I found. Birth records, guardianship papers, you name it.”
• Izzy leaned forward, elbows on her knees, pressing her fingers to her temples.
• She’d buried the wrong body.
• She’d married the wrong son.
• Her vision blurred. Rage and betrayal clawed at her throat.
• And yet… she didn’t cry. No, not this time. Not now, not ever.
• Instead, she whispered, “I’ll just have to manage my resources.”
• Ben stayed quiet for a while, before he asked the question they were both thinking.
• “What about Liam?”
• Izzy’s eyes locked on the marriage contract placed on her desk. She had thought she was using him. Playing the long con.
• But what if Thomas had planned this?
• What if Liam wasn’t as innocent as he looked?
• What if she’d been the one getting played?
• Her jaw tightened. “If he’s in my way, I’ll use him until I don’t need him. Then I’ll deal with him like the others.”
• Ben’s voice dropped. “And if he’s not in your way?”
• Izzy didn’t answer.
• Instead, she stood, walked over to the mirror, and stared at herself. The woman staring back was cold. Eyes void of any light or happiness.
• But there was something else.
• Doubt.
• And doubt was dangerous.
• “I’ll call you tomorrow,” she said, and hung up.
• Outside her window, the city buzzed, oblivious as she calculated her next move on Liam. “Even the puppy doesn't know he's adopted, does he?”