Jude’s pile was quite impressive, and I couldn’t help but read a few articles. Most were from his high school paper, an elite prep school I’d never heard of. I focused on one, smiling at a young Jude looking quite bored on a stage with several of his peers. He was a stark contrast to the tattooed hottie he was today. But I could tell it was him by the eyes. He and Roman had very similar eyes.

Just as I was about to set article aside and search for more photos of a young Roman, something caught my eye. A hint of light-colored hair. The way she was looking at him.

I grabbed my magnifying glass immediately.

Every proper historian had a magnifying glass after all.

Looking deep into the old photo, I found her.

Lauren Drake.

I remembered her mentioning when we’d met that she’d briefly attended the same school as Jude. Apparently, that was actually true. Now completely interested in my little find, I read the rest of the article, noting several other pictures had been included.

Nothing about the article was particularly interesting. Just an honors ceremony. A list of awardees, including Jude and Lauren.

Bummer.

With my trusty magnifying glass in hand, I moved on to other pictures, finding nothing of interest, until I came to the last picture. It was an after shot of a parent and a student I didn’t recognize, happily posing for the camera.

That wasn’t the interesting part though.

The background was what had my jaw dropping.

Roman’s father was grabbing the arm of another woman.

Looking closely at the photograph, I gasped.

There would be no sleep for me tonight.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of the office that had been the pillar of our family for three generations, just minutes after my victory in the boardroom.

And I felt nothing.

This should have been my day to celebrate. I should have been halfway through a vintage bottle of scotch by now, reveling in my success.

My triumph.

I’d been working for months for this very moment—the moment after the meeting that either solidified my position in the company for years to come or proved that I was everything my father had believed I was.

And I’d fucking nailed it. I had owned that room and every person in it. The board had been amazed by not only my collective knowledge of the company, both past and present, but also my commitment and determination to push it steadily into the future.

I was not my father’s son.

I knew that now.

And now so did everyone else.

Everyone but one person.

And that was why I was standing here, feeling nothing but emptiness.