Jonah shook his head. “Dude, I’ve got the newborn. If anyone should be tired and out of sorts about the snap meeting, it ought to be me.”

“Right. Sorry, mate.” Gage had been in the middle of the most significant conversation of his life when he’d been interrupted, but he didn’t mention that now. He’d have to figure out how to proceed with Elena later, once he knew what was so all-fired important to get everyone together now.

Desmond switched on his laptop and brought online a specially made ninety-inch television screen over the fireplace. The screen divided into three windows, one for each of the other owners. Miles arrived first, with Alec and Weston flickering into view shortly afterward.

“Looks like we’re all here,” Weston observed, kicking things off while Gage and Jonah took seats on a leather sofa by the fireplace. “I’ve gotten Devon Salazar’s permission to share this information, which came from April’s investigation of the money trail for Alonzo’s book. She discovered the majority of the income has gone toward the support and education of a thirteen-year-old named Matthew Cruz.”

Jonah coughed on the sip of coffee he’d just taken. Gage felt his jaw drop. Alonzo was supporting a kid?

“Is there any reason to believe it’s Alonzo’s son?” Desmond asked. “Did Devon run DNA?”

“Matthew Cruz looks nothing like any of the Salazars.” Weston glanced down at his own laptop as he spoke, and with a keystroke, he shared a photo of a lean, gap-toothed preteen. With dark blond hair and gray eyes, he bore no resemblance to Alonzo, or his sons Marcus and Devon, who owned Salazar Media and had worked with the ranch on branding and promotion.

“If the kid is thirteen years old, it means he was conceived during the worst year of our lives,” Alec observed, leaning closer to his computer screen, maybe scrutinizing the photo. It made his face loom large on the television screen. “The boy looks most like Jonah.”

Jonah shook his head, his expression thunderous. “Don’t even go there. I’m still reeling that Alonzo did all this without breathing a word to any of us. Besides, you know damned well if the kid was any of ours, Alonzo would have kicked our asses if we weren’t accountable.”

“Why would Alonzo take financial responsibility for anyone that wasn’t a blood relative?” Gage asked, trying to make sense of a day that had taken a fast downward spiral after beginning with a trail of rose petals.

“First, we make sure it’s not a blood relative,” Weston chimed in again, apparently knowing more about the case because things had worked out well between him and the financial forensics investigator. “Devon is going to reach out to Matthew’s guardian and see if she’ll agree to paternity testing.”