Cesar Blackwell
Five years later
I stood there, frozen. It couldn't be. He is not my...
It can't be. It was just one night.
Before I could fully process it, my father's voice cut through the haze.
"Cesar, what are you doing there? Come meet your step-sister."
Step-sister?
"I know her," I said automatically.
"Oh, you do?" My father turned to his fiancée with a smile. "Honey, you didn't tell me Casey and Cesar knew each other."
She glanced at Casey. "Oh, they went to the same university, but I never thought they actually knew each other."
Her mother turned to Casey expectantly. "Casey, you know Cesar?"
Casey's gaze flickered toward me before she quickly looked away.
"It was a huge university," she said, her voice unnervingly even. "There were a lot of people there. I might have seen him. He was famous like that."
"Oh yes!" her mother chimed in. "You used to play ball. Your father told me you were kind of a legend."
I swallowed hard, forcing a nod. "Yeah, I was."
Then my eyes landed on the little boy in her arms again. My chest tightened.
"And who's this?" I asked, unable to shake the curiosity rising inside me.
Her mother beamed. "This is Victor, my son."
I frowned slightly. Her son? The age gap between Casey and the boy seemed too wide for that. Something didn't add up.
Then my father stepped in, clearing his throat.
"I was going to tell you this sooner," he said, looking at me carefully.
His next words sent my world spinning.
"His name is Victor Blackwell. He's your half-brother."
Victor Blackwell.
"Sorry, my half-brother?" My voice came out sharp, disbelieving. "What do you mean? What are you saying?"
Leonard Blackwell exhaled heavily.
"I wanted to tell you, but I never got the chance. You have a younger brother—Victor. You always wanted a sibling," he said, his tone almost placating. "And here he is."
Conflicted wasn't even the right word for what I felt. At first, relief crashed over me. Victor isn't mine. He isn't my son. I had dodged a bullet. If Casey had shown up today with a five-year-old child that was mine, I wouldn't have known what to do. That would have been the shock of my life.
And yet, somehow, Leonard still managed to shock me. After all these years, he still had the power to throw me off balance.
He had a son. A five-year-old son. A child who had been in this world for years, and I had no idea.
And this woman—his fiancée—was apparently the mother. Is this why he's marrying her?
Was he trying to rewrite history? To redo fatherhood the way he should have done it with me? Was he hoping to correct all his mistakes, pouring love and attention into this little boy the way he never did for me?
Or was this just another selfish attempt at redemption?
I studied the boy, really looked at him. Anyone could see the resemblance. He had Leonard's features, no question. I should have noticed it earlier. I should have known.
Then Victor looked up at me with wide, innocent eyes—eyes that, to my surprise, mirrored my own. He smiled, small and hesitant.
And just like that, the anger I had been gathering inside me faltered. I couldn't be mad at him.
So, instead, I found myself asking the last thing I expected.
"Can I take him?"
Leonard's fiancée hesitated for a moment before gently handing Victor over to me.
I fake-drop Victor. He screams.
I catch him easily, laughing as he clings to my neck, his tiny hands gripping me like I'm his lifeline. I pinch his nose playfully and shake my head.
"What are you eating, kid? You're heavy."
He giggles, his laughter light and infectious, and my mother and Leonard's fiancée laugh along with us. But as my amusement settles, my gaze shifts—drawn, towards Casey.
She's standing there, watching, her expression unreadable. There's something in her eyes, something that I can't read. A flicker of something I can't quite understand before she looks away.
But before I can process it, Victor tugs at my focus again.
"What's your name?" he asks, eyes wide with curiosity. "Mom told me I was going to meet my brother, are you my big brother?."
I smirk. "Cesar."
"Cesar…" he repeats, testing the name on his tongue. Then he grins. "I like that name!"
"I know you do, buddy." I tickle his stomach, making him squirm and burst into laughter. "My name is legendary."
He laughs even harder at that, and I can't help but smile.
"Let's go inside. Dinner is ready," my father calls.
I adjust Victor in my arms, carrying him with ease as we follow the others toward the house. But as we walk, I let them move ahead, slowing my pace—because I can't stop looking at her.
Casey.
The woman who haunted me. The woman I spent years trying not to think about.
And yet, standing here now, she's even more breathtaking than the memories I fought to suppress.
Her hair falls differently, and her face has softened—fuller, somehow. Her eyes still hold that same intensity, the same quiet fire. And those lips, that delicate nose, the warm glow of her skin—she looks so damn soft, I want to feel her on my hands.
Even bundled in that oversized coat, I can already tell—her body has changed, too. She's all curves beneath the fabric, and suddenly, I can't wait to step inside, to see her without it.
I don't realize I've been staring until she snaps at me.
"What are you looking at?"
Damn. Someone isn't in a good mood. Or maybe… she just holds a grudge.
"You remember me," I say, more accusation than question.
She meets my gaze with a sharp look, then turns and heads for the house without another word.
I want to reach out, to grab her wrist, to stop her—but Victor is still in my arms.
So, I let her leave. But I watch her.
I watch the way she walks, the way her hips sway with every step. The way she gives me that unintentional catwalk makes it impossible to look away. My tongue darts out to wet my lips because suddenly, they feel dry.
I keep my eyes on her until she disappears through the doors.
When I turn back, I find Victor watching me.
"So, little buddy," I say, adjusting him in my arms. "Is that your sister?"
He nods eagerly. "Yes! That's my sister. She loves me so much."
I smirk. "I bet she does, buddy. I bet she does."
I carry him inside, keeping my tone light.
"What's your favourite food?"
Victor's face lights up as he starts rattling off everything he loves—ice cream, cookies, chocolate. Not a single real meal in sight. I chuckle, shaking my head.
But as I step through the doorway, my mind is elsewhere.
Because Casey is here. After all these years, after all the time I spent trying to forget her—fate just throws her back into my life.
Fate wants to fuck with me. But that's okay, I think I am going to enjoy fucking this one.
She said she doesn't remember me. That's cute.
I'll remind her.
I'll remind her exactly what her first time was like. And when I do, there won't be a damn thing she can do about it.