Chapter 204

"Any solid proof Dorothy killed Edwin's ex-wife's kids?" Adrian texted. "And I need concrete evidence on Jenny's ex-husband's daughter's death."

His friend replied after a pause, "I dug around, found some whispers, but solid proof after all this time… impossible."

"I'll pay more," Adrian shot back.

"I'll try again," his friend responded.

"Thanks," Adrian typed, then heard a creak. A small, fluffy head peeked around his door. It was Damian, his miniature double. Adrian’s face softened. "Damian?" He stood, approaching the boy. He knelt, a hand on Damian's shoulder as he opened the door. "What is it?"

"Ice cream!" Damian chirped.

Adrian hesitated. "Your mom said no."

"Ice cream!" Damian insisted.

Adrian scooped him up. "Thirsty? Daddy'll get you water."

He carried Damian to the living room, seating him on the sofa before carefully pouring water, using two cups to cool it, just as Isabella, Damian's mother, had taught him.

Six months ago, he'd found a lost three-year-old boy on the street. He'd inexplicably felt compelled to take the child to the police station. The police were suspicious, staring at him and the boy. They lectured them on child safety. Then, it hit Adrian: the boy looked exactly like him.

The police peppered him with questions. He'd never known his father. A detective finally suggested a paternity test. A photo of them together sealed it. The boy was his spitting image. Asked the boy's age—three—they asked Adrian about three years prior.

He almost denied any relationship. Then, a memory surfaced: a night three years ago, while investigating a case…

"Could this be him?" Adrian's heart pounded.

His parents constantly pressured him to marry and have kids. He'd never cared, until now. This overwhelming happiness and surprise.

The boy couldn't remember his mother's contact information. Adrian took a hair sample, did a paternity test. The results were clear: his son.

The police were shocked, but not surprised, given their resemblance. Adrian's mother must have been frantic. He stayed at the station, waiting. Finally, at midnight, a frantic woman arrived. She'd been searching for over twenty-four hours.

Isabella, distraught, sobbed. Her fear was palpable.

"Mom!" Damian spotted her, darting to her side. Isabella's relief was overwhelming; she embraced him tightly.

Adrian, determined to be a father, relentlessly pursued Isabella. Winning her over wasn't easy, but after six months, she trusted him, even letting him care for Damian, teaching him parenting tricks like cooling water. He'd made mistakes, but he was improving.

Christopher—he now called the boy Christopher—took the water, then returned to his room. Adrian followed, pulling out Lego. Isabella worked long hours, leaving Damian largely alone.

Adrian noticed Damian's withdrawal. Beyond basic needs, he stayed in his room, silent and unresponsive. They took Damian to the hospital. The doctor's reassurance was welcome, but the advice was clear: more attention, more quality time. That's what Damian needed.