Chapter 300: Reunion

Back at the Rathbourne residence, William watched as Timothy hugged Fitzgerald so tightly that he seemed determined never to let him go. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and there was even a little snot beneath his nose.

The sight was almost painful to witness.

And the most surprising part was that Fitzgerald actually let him.

He stood there patiently while Timothy clung to him, completely unconcerned about the tears, the mess, or the way his clothes were being ruined.

William had never seen his sons this close. Not once.

Something shifted inside him. His eyes began to sting, and for a moment, he simply stood there, watching them.

Then William cleared his throat and decided that retreating to his study was the safest course of action. He had no idea what to do with this sort of emotion, and he certainly wasn’t prepared to start crying in front of his sons.

But before he could turn away, someone else entered the living room.

Amelia Whitmore stood by the door, her baby in her arms. She hesitated.

Amelia knew how much Timothy loved his brother. She had also heard from mutual friends how deeply he had suffered after Fitzgerald’s death. She had deliberated over it the entire day before finally deciding to let Timothy have Charlotte for a little while.

It wasn’t because she wanted to see him. Certainly not.

She knew Catherine had been letting Timothy meet Charlotte often, and Catherine had told her how much Timothy adored the baby. Perhaps Charlotte would help ease some of his grief.

That was all. It wasn’t because she cared about Timothy. She definitely did not care about him.

“Mr. Rathbourne, I…” Amelia began hesitantly. “I… Is Timothy…”

She never finished the question. Her eyes had already fallen on the scene farther inside the living room.

Timothy was leaning against Fitzgerald.

Amelia froze.

He wasn’t dead?

Had she been duped?

Charlotte, almost four months old, seemed completely unaware of her mother’s shock. Recognizing her father, she gave a delighted little coo.

The tiny sound snapped Timothy out of his crying spell. He turned. Fitzgerald looked up as well.

William Rathbourne blinked. He knew exactly who the baby was, and he knew exactly who was holding her. But before he could say anything, Timothy’s entire face lit up. He looked as though he had just won every first prize in the world at once.

“Charlotte!”

He rushed toward them.

William watched him go, and the overwhelming joy on his son’s face was almost too much to bear.

Apparently, Timothy had been emotionally overwhelmed enough for one day.

William decided he had, too.

Without another word, he turned and walked toward his study. Some emotions were best handled from a safe distance.

Timothy immediately hugged Amelia.

“He’s alive! My brother is alive!” he exclaimed, holding her cheeks. Then, before Amelia could even process what was happening, he kissed her.

It was a deep, impulsive kiss, filled with so much relief and happiness that Amelia could only stand there in stunned silence. When he finally released her, Timothy promptly scooped up his daughter and swung her around above his head.

“Your uncle is alive! Ah, right. You haven’t met him yet, have you?” He beamed at Charlotte. “Here he is… Your Uncle Fitzgerald!”

He carried the baby toward his brother.

Amelia blinked. Her trembling fingers slowly rose to her lips.

What… was that?

Her heart pounded, and heat rushed all the way to her cheeks.

Fitzgerald watched his brother excitedly approach him with a tiny human in his arms. The thing was round and plush, almost like a doll. But Fitzgerald knew enough to understand that it might break.

“I…I need to change first,” he said. Then he turned and hurried up the stairs.

Unfortunately, his mother was waiting for him. Tears were already rolling down her cheeks.

“Son…” She rushed forward and hugged him.

Once again, Fitzgerald’s shirt became wet.

“Let go,” he muttered as he pried himself out of her arms.

What was with all this hugging?

It was disgusting.

A maid cautiously approached him. “I’ll send it to the wash, sir,” she offered, reaching for his suit.

“Wash?”

Fitzgerald stared at the tear and snot stains marring his once-perfect suit. His face twisted in genuine disgust.

“Incinerate it.”

The maid froze.

“In fact…” Fitzgerald looked down at himself. “I should get incinerated too.”

With that, he stepped into his room and shut the door.

The maid stared after him.

He couldn’t possibly have meant that.

Right?

He wouldn’t actually set himself on fire.

…He might.

She decided not to think about it and quietly walked away.

Downstairs, Timothy had completely forgotten about everything else.

He held Charlotte close, kissing her chubby cheeks before placing her on his shoulders. Then he began dancing around the room with her.

He looked happy. His face was still red and puffy from all the crying, but the smile on it was bright and genuine.

Amelia, still standing by the door, watched them silently.

She remembered being young.

Her father used to dance with her just like that. He would swing her around, carry her on his shoulders, and make her laugh until her stomach hurt.

The memory struck something deep inside her.

Somehow, everything Catherine had said before finally made sense.

How could she take all of this away from her daughter?

“You…” Amelia hesitated before looking at Timothy. “Spend some time with her. I’ll…”

She pointed toward the door.

Timothy looked at her.

For a moment, he seemed hesitant, almost as though he couldn’t quite believe she was offering this.

Then he walked over and took her hand. “Dinner will be ready soon. Join us, will you?” he asked.

Before Amelia could answer, Timothy gently tugged her inside.

“You haven’t seen my room, right?” he continued, already leading her toward the stairs. “I set up a small nursery too. You should see it. I spent so much time deciding where everything should go…”

He kept talking as he dragged her upstairs, leaving Amelia with little choice but to follow.

In the study, William received the email.

The board of BioQuant was gathering, and as one of the company’s voting shareholders, he had been invited to the meeting.

“About time.” William smiled.

This was precisely why he had never sold his shares.

—–

Back at Laurel Hollows, James Preston was already packing his bag and preparing to leave. William tried to stop him.

“He should regret treating my daughter this way,” James said.

William nodded. “I understand, Dad. We’re handling it. You need to rest. Alexander is in Capitol Hill right now, talking to—”

“She’s my daughter.”

James didn’t even let him finish.

“And those old fogies need to be reminded why they can’t cross a Preston. Now, prepare the jet.”

William froze.

For a moment, he barely recognized his father.

This was not the retired grandfather they had all grown accustomed to these days, the one who spent his afternoons playing with his grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

This was the man who had built an empire from a successful ranching business. And someone had hurt his daughter.

God forbid anyone crossed his path now.

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