Chapter Fifty–Three
Kyle’s POV
“Are you ready, Mr. Banks?” the lady, dressed like a hall attendant, asked with a sweet smile that could have passed as something else if we weren’t in a dire situation.
I was more than ready. I had been ready long before stepping into this building. But now that the moment was here, my heart pounded wildly against my chest, feeling like it might tear through my ribs. My palms were clammy and shaky. I flexed my fingers and adjusted my tie, just to give myself something to do, anything, just to feel in control.
With my lungs expanding for a quick and deep exhale, I took a step forward, but a firm hand gripped my arm
I turned slightly, meeting Alex’s concerned gaze.
“Are you sure about this, man?” he whispered in my face, simultaneously releasing my hand. “Do you really have to go through this medium?” I gave him a perplexed look, and he licked his lips as he tried to dissuade me. “I mean, what if this goes sideways? You know the media, Kyle. One wrong word and everything might capsize. They might turn your words against you, and everything you worked for would go down the drain in
the blink of an eye,” he whispered in a rush, eyeing the instructor who has her eyes on us as though she
might report everything she hears to the press outside, even though he was literally whsipering.
I sighed, not just from frustration but from exhaustion. Ever since this uproar began, I hadn’t had a proper
sleep, and even though I knew Alex was right about the media turning my words against me, I couldn’t step
away because of that. It was time I stepped up rather than leaving Ava to carry the cross. “I know exactly
what I’m walking into, Alex.”
And I’m not about to turn back.
When the rumours exploded online and the tabloids began questioning Zareon’s paternity, I didn’t even flinch.
I didn’t say anything, not to the media or to my parent, who had also been asking questions. I was simply
confused and angry because that night, I had instructed that all videos be erased. I guessed some of the guests had kept some spare footage that had escaped the security measures.
Despite all that, I hadn’t denied the allegations. Zareon was my son. Anyone with working eyes could see it;
the resemblance was undeniable and as clear as a sunny day. He had the same deep–set eyes and the same
stubborn chin as I. He was my son, and I refused to insult my blood by pretending otherwise.
Even with all that, I wouldn’t lie that a part of me had been thrilled that the world knew he was. That was a selfish feeling, I know. But if that was the only way I could make the world know I had a second son, and the only way I could eventually be in my son’s life, then so be it. But that was just my feeling until ever. changed and things kept going sideways in ways I hadn’t imagined.
The media had taken turns in crucifying me and Ava by calling us names. They called me irresponsible. They
called me reckless, heartless.
Some online trolls even went so far as to say I abandoned Ava, which was true, and that I was some heartless bastard who knocked up my wife and made her walk away. I accepted all that because, apart from the fact that it was true, I also wanted them to leave Ava out of everything, but it was like all my efforts went
in vain. The media was relentless and couldn’t be curbed no matter what.
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The other bigger problem was my company.
+ Points >
Investors pulled out faster than I could blink, citing concerns about the company’s stability and claiming they were tired of personal matters affecting business. They whispered about how this scandal was similar to my father’s. They started comparing me to my father.
How my father had almost dragged our family name and the company through the dirt when he divorced his first wife, then married another woman almost immediately.
“He’s no better than his father,” they murmured behind my back when they thought I wasn’t nearby. “History’s just repeating itself.”
Maybe they weren’t wrong.
But this… this wasn’t about legacy, or corporate image, or any selfish motives aimed at restoring a reputation. It was about Zareon. About Ava. About a woman who had been publicly humiliated for something
I caused, and a child who didn’t ask to be born into this mess.
“I need to do this,” I muttered to Alex. “For them.”
Alex held my gaze, and when he saw my determination, he nodded and stepped back.
“Are you ready now?” The lady’s exasperated voice pulled me back to the present.
Without any other words shared, I nodded to the lady who showed me the way, and soon I stepped into the large conference room, which was already packed with reporters seated in anticipation of the real juice they’d been waiting for. Their recorders and cameras are ready, and their eyes are hungry for something new to tap on.
My heart pounded as I stepped up to the podium, a thousand lights blinding me, and a voice in the corner of my mind telling me this wasn’t the right thing to do and I should turn away. Instead, I took a breath and began.
“This press conference will address the rumours circulating about my personal life,” I said, my voice steady, in contrast to how I was inside. “Yes, I have a son. His name is Zareon. And he is the most important thing in my life.”
Flashes blew up my face like lightning, the room erupting into a chorus of voices and shutter sounds. I maintained my composure, knowing fully well that this wasn’t a regular press conference; here, every word I spoke, every emotion I displayed was streamed live and would be used to judge me.
Across the podium, a reporter stood up,
“Mr. Banks, when exactly did you find out you have a child with your ex–wife? Did you truly not know, or are you just pretending now for damage control?”
My brows furrowed at that. I knew questions like that would pop up. That was the main reason for this found myself uncomfortable discussing all that with them. My mouth parted to respond, but the report raised his index finger and said.
“That is the first of my questions. The other is: You and Ava were childhood lovers. You even got married earlier than most people. So what happened between you two? Why did your marriage end so suddenly, and so privately?”
The room went silent, leaving just the shutter sounds and my pounding heart as all eyes were fixated on me,
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looking for a slip in my emotions. That was a question I couldn’t answer. It was a question that still haunts me to date. Still trying to stay calm and making sure my expression didn’t give much away, I leaned into the
microphone.
“I will not be answering questions about Ava or my personal history. My focus is, and will continue to be, on my responsibilities, both as a father and as the CEO of Banks Enterprises. I’m only here to accept the fact that Zareon is my biological son.”
With that, I leaned off the microphone, turning to the organiser to leave, but it seemed the reporters didn’t like my response because the room turned into an uproar of arguments.
“Mr. Banks. You can’t just give us half–baked information and claim that was all.” One reporter shouted, and soon the rest shouted in agreement, and just like that, the hall rose even higher in argument as reporters spoke above one another, throwing questions at me.
“Like I said,” I spoke into the speaker, but their voices were louder than mine, so I tried harder. “Like I said, my personal matters wouldn’t be discussed here….”
–“Some sources claim you left Ava when she got pregnant. Is that true, Mr. Banks? Did you abandon her and your child?”
“Did Lillian, your present wife, have anything to do with your separation from Ava? Was there cheating involved?”
“Were you aware Ava was pregnant when you left her for Lillian? Did woman?”
you abandon
your
child for another
“How did you meet Lillian, and what was the reason for divorcing Ava for her?”
“At least give us reasonable answers to our assumptions. Isn’t that the purpose we were summoned here?” Another angry reporter yelled.
The questions kept coming in that I don’t even remember most of what I said after that, or what the reporters were saying. My head was pounding. My heart raced wildly and painfully in my chest, making my vision dim at the edges.
I remember that feeling.
It was the same feeling I felt some days ago before my assistant found me, but now, it was fiercer and stronger.
The room spun with each pound of my heart. I blinked, trying to steady myself against the podium, but it felt slippery, like it was moving from me, no matter how hard I tried to grip something.
A gasp rose from the crowd, or maybe it was from me. I couldn’t tell before I felt the world tilt upside down with a bang.
My eyes blinked open, then closed and vice versa, as camera flashes against my blurred vision. I could h voices yelling, hands grabbing me, but it felt slurred.
Somebody shouted my name, but I couldn’t place who against the loud ringing in my ears. I felt myself being moved, saw different colours shifting in my vision, felt my body being prodded, but I couldn’t feel, speak, or do anything. My fight to get out of the fog felt restrained and worthless. I was confused and in a daze. Then, just like that, my vision grew dimmer and dimmer, the voices fading away, until everything turned dark.
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And, just like that, I felt myself falling into a deep and relaxing sleep, one I hadn’t experienced in a long time
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