Straightening his shoulders, Axel moved down the hall toward the surgery room.
Dylan was still there, hands clasped neatly behind his back like a loyal soldier. However, the sharp lift of his brows betrayed his gnawing curiosity.
"Boss…" Dylan greeted, his voice thick with questions. He'd been holding it back ever since they left the café, but now it slipped out. "The young boy is…?"
Axel didn't hesitate. "My son," he said flatly, his eyes locked on the red light above the operating room, unblinking.
Dylan gasped, the words hitting him harder than expected; even though he'd already guessed it.
He still remembered Evelyn slipping out of the presidential suite that morning.
Since then, the thought had haunted him: Evelyn might be pregnant. She hadn't taken the pill that morning, unlike every other woman his boss slept with.
"Yo-your… son?" Dylan echoed carefully, not quite asking, more like admitting what he already knew deep down.
