Rejected and Pregnant I Fled The Pack (Evelyn and Damon) novel Chapter 173

Damon pov

I sat across from my father in his study, watching him prepare to call Marcus a second time, this time with the actual DNA results in hand, ready to make the connection concrete rather than simply theoretical.

"Are you sure you want me here for this," I asked, understanding the genuine weight of what he was about to navigate—not just informing his estranged brother about a potential daughter, but reopening whatever wound had kept them apart for decades.

"I want you here," he said, his voice carrying quiet resolve despite the obvious tension in his posture. "This affects our entire family now, Damon. I don't want to navigate it alone."

He dialed, and I watched him wait through several rings before the call connected, Marcus's voice carrying through faintly enough that I could catch fragments even without the phone on speaker.

"Robert," Marcus said, something guarded but curious in his tone. "You said this was urgent."

"It is," my father confirmed. "I need to tell you something, and I need you to actually hear all of it before reacting."

He explained everything carefully—Genevieve, the timeline, Nadia's claims, the DNA testing we'd arranged, and finally, the actual results confirming a familial connection through paternal lineage rather than direct paternity to himself.

The silence on the other end stretched long enough that I began to wonder if the call had dropped entirely, before Marcus's voice finally broke through, low and disbelieving.

"You're telling me I have a daughter," he said slowly. "Twenty-three years old, raised by that woman, and I'm only just now hearing about her existence?"

"I know this is genuinely shocking," my father said carefully. "I understand you need time to process—"

"Time to process?" Marcus's voice suddenly sharpened, volume rising audibly even without the speaker activated. "Robert, are you actually kidding me right now? Twenty-three years! Twenty-three years I could have known my own child existed, and instead I've been sitting here completely oblivious while she was raised by an unstable, manipulative—" He broke off into a string of genuinely creative profanity that had my father wincing slightly, though something in his expression suggested he understood exactly the depth of shock and fury driving this reaction.

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