Ashton's POV
My jaw was on fire where Darius had punched me, but I barely felt it.
"I hate you."
Those three words from my daughter—my daughter I didn't even know existed until ten minutes ago—kept playing in my head like a nightmare on repeat.
"Sir, you need to leave." Airport security grabbed my arm. "Now."
I couldn't move. Couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. Kieran was walking away with my children. With OUR children. And I was standing here like an idiot with roses scattered around my feet like a bad joke.
"Ashton!" Marcus appeared, pulling me backward. "Move before they arrest you!"
My legs finally worked. We stumbled through the airport, people staring, phones recording. Tomorrow this would be all over social media. The great Ashton Cross, rejected and punched in the middle of the airport. My mother would be furious.
I didn't care.
"Those were my kids," I whispered as Marcus shoved me into his car. "Marcus, those were my children."
"I know." His voice was tight. "Put your seatbelt on."
My hands were shaking too badly. Marcus reached over and buckled it for me like I was a child. Maybe I was. Maybe I'd always been a child, too scared to stand up to my mother, too weak to fight for what mattered.
"The boy—Storm—he had my eyes." I stared at my hands. They wouldn't stop shaking. "Exactly my eyes. The same gray. And when he asked why I smelled like him..." My voice cracked. "He knew, Marcus. Some instinct in him recognized me as his father, and he was scared of me."
Marcus pulled out of the parking lot. He didn't say anything.
"Say something!" I shouted. "Tell me I'm not the worst person alive!"
"You want me to lie?" Marcus's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. "Fine. You're not the worst. You're just a coward who abandoned his pregnant mate and missed five years with his kids. But hey, at least you had your mother's approval, right?"
The words hit like bullets. "That's not fair—"
"Fair?" Marcus slammed on the brakes at a red light, turning to glare at me. "You want to talk about fair? Kieran gave birth alone, Ashton. No mate beside him. No Alpha to hold his hand through the pain. Can you even imagine how terrified he must have been? Bringing two babies into the world by himself?"
I couldn't breathe. The image Marcus painted was destroying me—Kieran alone in a hospital bed, scared and in pain, holding our newborn twins with no one to help him.
"He tried to tell me," I realized suddenly. "At the gala. Remember? He kept trying to pull me aside. He said 'we need to talk about something important.' I told him I was too busy. I was too busy to hear that I was going to be a father."
"And then you called him a mistake in front of everyone," Marcus added coldly. "While he was carrying your children."
I covered my face with my hands. "I'm going to be sick."
"Window's right there."
But I couldn't throw up. Could barely move. The horror of what I'd done was crushing me, making it impossible to breathe. Kieran had been six weeks pregnant. He'd heard me call our relationship inappropriate, heard me apologize for the "embarrassment," and he'd been carrying my babies.
My phone buzzed. A text from my lawyer: "Saw the airport video. Call me. Now."
Another from my mother: "What have you done? Get home immediately. Do NOT talk to anyone."
I ignored both and opened my photos instead. Went back to that picture I'd kept for five years—me and Kieran in the campus gardens, both of us laughing. We'd been so happy. So stupidly, perfectly happy.
Three days before I destroyed everything.
"I need to fix this," I said suddenly. "Marcus, I need to fix this."
"You can't." Marcus's voice was flat. "Some things stay broken, Ash."
"Those are my children! I have rights!"
"You have biology." Marcus pulled into my driveway. "That's not the same thing. Storm and Sage don't know you. They have a father—Darius. They have a family. You're just the scary Alpha who made their Mama cry."
Each word was a knife. "Then I'll fight for them. I'll take Kieran to court. I'll prove I'm their father and demand custody—"
"And traumatize them more?" Marcus turned off the engine, facing me fully. "Listen to yourself! You're talking about ripping those kids away from the only family they've ever known. For what? Your pride? Your guilt?"
"For my children!" I was shouting now. "They deserve to know their real father!"
"Their real father is Darius!" Marcus shouted back. "He's the one who's been there! You're just the biological donor who showed up five years too late!"
The silence after his words was deafening.
"Get out of my car," Marcus said quietly. "I can't look at you right now."
I stumbled out. Marcus drove away without another word, leaving me standing in my driveway alone.
My phone rang. My mother.
"Not now," I muttered, declining the call.
It rang again immediately. And again. Finally, I answered.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Her voice was ice. "The airport incident is already trending online. Everyone's asking questions about those children. If they're yours—"
"They are mine." My voice was dead. "Kieran was pregnant when I left him. I have four-year-old twins I never knew about."
Silence. Then: "Come home. Now. We need to handle this carefully."
"There's nothing to handle. They're my children."
"They're a scandal!" she hissed. "We need lawyers, damage control, custody agreements that keep that Omega quiet—"
"His name is Kieran." Something in me snapped. "And he's not 'that Omega.' He's my mate. The father of my children. And this is your fault."
"My fault?" Her laugh was sharp. "I saved you from a disastrous match—"
"You destroyed my family!" I was screaming now. "You made me abandon my pregnant mate! You're the reason my children hate me!"
"Those children are half yours. We can fight for custody, establish visitation—"
"No." The word came out firm. Clear. "You're not coming near them. Ever. If you try, I'll file a restraining order myself."
"You wouldn't dare—"
I hung up. Blocked her number. And for the first time in five years, I felt like I could breathe.
Then my phone buzzed with a new message. Unknown number.
I opened it.
It was a video. Recent, from today. Kieran and the twins in what looked like their home—a beautiful house I'd never seen. Storm was showing Kieran a drawing. Sage was singing while Darius played piano. They looked happy. Complete.
Below the video, a message: "This is what you gave up. This is what you'll never have. But here's the thing, Ashton—I'm not done hurting you yet. You took five years from me. Now I'm going to take everything from you. Watch the news tomorrow. -K"
My blood turned to ice.
What had Kieran done?
I pulled up the news on my phone, searching frantically. Nothing yet. But tomorrow...
Another text came through. This time from Marcus: "Turn on Channel 7. Now."
I ran inside, flipping on the TV. Breaking news banner. And there—filling the screen—was a photo I'd never seen before.
Kieran in a hospital bed, exhausted and beautiful, holding two tiny newborns. The timestamp: February 14th, 3:47 AM.
The news anchor's voice: "Breaking tonight—Vale Pharmaceuticals CEO Kieran Vale reveals shocking story of abandonment. Five years ago, while pregnant with twins, the Omega was publicly humiliated by his Alpha mate at their university's senior gala. Tonight, Vale has filed a lawsuit against Ashton Cross of Cross Industries for emotional damages, abandonment of mate bond, and five years of unpaid child support. The amount? $50 million."
The screen changed. Now it showed the airport video from today. Me grabbing Kieran's arm. Darius punching me. And worst of all—little Sage's face when she said "I hate you."
"In an exclusive statement," the anchor continued, "Vale says he's not seeking reconciliation. He's seeking justice. And he's asking one question: What kind of Alpha abandons his pregnant Omega?"
My phone exploded with notifications. Calls, texts, emails. The whole world was watching.
And Kieran had just declared war.