Chapter 4
Douglas swallowed.
“Simon, this isn’t—”
“Don’t,” Simon said.
One word.
Douglas shut his mouth.
For twenty-seven years, Douglas had built himself into a man nobody questioned.
He had been a decorated officer once.
At least, that was the story he told.
In family photos, he stood stiff in uniform, medals pinned to his chest, jaw set like he was made from stone.
Evan grew up worshiping him.
Douglas taught him that men did not apologize.
That women pushed boundaries unless they were corrected.
That a family name mattered more than feelings.
That control was protection.
Serena heard those lessons during her first Thanksgiving with them.
She remembered Douglas slicing turkey while saying, “A household falls apart when the man starts asking permission.”
Everyone laughed.
Serena did not.
Evan squeezed her knee under the table until it hurt.
Later that night, he said, “Don’t embarrass me like that again.”
That was how it started.
A squeeze.
A warning.
A locked jaw.
Then the comments.
Then the isolation.
Then the apologies that always turned into accusations.
“You know how my father raised me.”
“You’re too sensitive.”
“You make me angry, then act surprised when I react.”
By the time Serena was pregnant, Evan had almost completely separated her from the people who loved her.
Her mother was gone.
Her brother Owen was gone.
Her friends had stopped calling after Evan kept answering her phone.
Only Simon kept showing up.
Birthday cards.
Voicemails.
Texts she was sometimes afraid to answer.
He lived two hours away, but he came whenever Serena let him.
And lately, she had stopped letting him.
Because Evan said Simon looked at him “like he wanted trouble.”
Now Simon stood in that hospital room.
And trouble had finally found the right door.
Douglas stared at the tattoo like it was a ghost.
“You were with the 317th,” he whispered.
Simon’s expression hardened.
“I was attached to investigations after that.”
Douglas closed his eyes.
Evan frowned.
“Investigations?”
Simon finally looked at him.
“Your father and I crossed paths a long time ago. Back when men like him thought a uniform could cover what they did behind closed doors.”
Douglas snapped, “Enough.”
May you like
“No,” Simon said. “Enough was when you taught your son that bruises are family discipline.”
👉 Simon knew exactly what Douglas had been hiding — and this time, the truth would not disappear behind a family name.
