AN: Just dipping my toes in here and putting out some feelers. I'll continue posting this if it seems people are enjoying and wanting more. If not, I'll just continue dabbling away and saving to my computer. It's been a while since I've read the series, but had this idea pop into my head when I was watching Darker recently. I'm re-reading as I go to try to keep with the OG timeline.

Christian POV

"We have a situation at home concerning Miss Leila Williams." Taylor informed me, interrupting my meeting. That—well that in itself was alarming. He never interrupted meetings. Prior to his statement being about Leila I had briefly worried for Ana, my family, even business partners, but Leila? What the hell?

"Would you please excuse me?" I ask the two men and two men from SBRA.

I step out in the hallway. "I'm sorry, Sir." Taylor offers."

"Don't worry. Tell me what's happened." I knew it had to be somewhat serious for him to pull me from a meeting for Leila.

"Miss Williams is in an ambulance on the way to the ER at Seattle Free Hope."

"Ambulance?"

"Yes, sir. She broke into the apartment and made a suicide attempt in front of Mrs. Jones."

Fuck. "Suicide?" Leila? In my apartment?

"She slashed her wrists, and it appears she was actively overdosing on medications. Gail went with her in the ambulance. They are admitting her to the ICU however things do not seem to be looking favorable at the present time."

"Why Escala? Why in front of Gail?" I'm shocked.

Taylor sighs. "There's more, which I assume is partially why she chose Escala. She had a young girl with her—probably four or five. She claims she is your daughter."

"That…that is impossible." I told him.

"The little one is being taken to the hospital for the time being as well. I've already requested our team do a DNA analysis; those results will be shared with you privately."

"How's Gail?"

"A little shaken. She's concerned for the child too. The child…well…she wasn't in good shape."

"Yes, I'm sure Gail is shaken. I'm not surprised."

"I thought you should know, Sir."

"Yes. Sure. Thanks," I mumble, distracted. I can't believe it. Leila seemed so happy when she last emailed me about sixteen months ago. And a child? If the child was presumably close to five, the math would line up, but Leila had been diligent on birth control going so far as to get an IUD. It would be impossible. I needed to get home and clear things up. "Tell Stephan to ready the jet. I need to go home."

"Will do."

"Leave as soon as we can."

"I'll be in the car."

"Thank you."

Taylor heads toward the exit, raising the phone to his ear.

I'm reeling.

Leila. What the hell? A child? A girl?

Who did the child belong to? Not her husband—they married too recently to have a child of that age.

I head back to the boardroom, make my apologies, and step out into the stifling heat, where Taylor is waiting in the suburban.

"The plane will be ready in forty-five minutes. We can head back to the hotel, pack, and go." He informs me.

"Good," I respond, grateful for the car's air-conditioning "I should call Gail."

"I've tried, but her phone goes straight to voicemail. She's probably still at the hospital."

"Okay, I'll call her later." This is not what Gail needs on a Tuesday morning. "How did they get into the apartment?"

"I don't know, Sir." Taylor makes eye contact with me in the rearview mirror, his face apologetic and grim at once. "I'll make it a priority to find out."

…

Our bags are packed and we're on our way to Savannah/Hilton Head International when I call Ana, but frustratingly, she doesn't answer. I brood, staring out the window as we cruise toward the airport. I don't have to wait long for her to return my call.

"Anastasia."

"Hi," she says, her voice breathy, and it's such a pleasure to hear.

"I have to return to Seattle. Something's come up. I am on my way to the airport now. Please apologize to your mother—I can't make dinner."

"Nothing serious, I hope?"

"I have a situation that I have to deal with. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll send Taylor to meet you at Sea-Tac if I can't come myself."

"Okay." She sighs. "I hope you sort out your situation. Have a safe flight."

I wish I didn't have to go.

"You too, baby," I whisper, and hang up before I change my mind and stay.

…

On the flight I throw myself into work to distract me from the problem waiting at home. By the time we've touched down, I've read three reports and written fifteen emails. Our car is waiting, and Taylor drives through the pouring rain straight to Seattle Free Hope. I have to see Leila—figure out what's going on—and see the child. My anger begins to surface the closer we get to the hospital.

Why would she do this to me?

The rain is lashing down as I climb out of the car; the day is as bleak as my mood. I take a deep breath to control my fury and head through the front doors. At the reception desk, I ask for Leila Reed.

"Are you family?" The nurse on duty glowers at me, her mouth pinched and sour.

"No." I sigh. This is going to be difficult.

"Well, I'm sorry, I can't help you."

"She tried to kill herself in my apartment. I think I'm entitled to now where the hell she is," I hiss through my teeth.

"Don't take that tone with me!" she snaps. I glare at her. I'm not going to get anywhere with this woman.

"Where is your ICU?"

"Sir, there's nothing we can do if you're not family."

"Don't worry, I'll find it myself," I growl, and storm over to the double doors. I know I could call my mother, who would expedite this for me, but then I'd have to explain what is happening.

I maneuvered the halls of the hospital finally finding signs directing me to the ICU. I find a male nurse who offers me a half smile.

"Can I help you with something?"

"I'm looking for my sister, Leila Reed."

He frowns and looks—solemn? Not a great look in a hospital setting to be on the receiving end of.

"Let me go get her doctor to come and speak with you. I'll take you to the waiting room."

I shake my head at all the waiting around but do as he's told. He bought my lie. He'll give me information. No need to make him suspicious. Only about fifteen minutes more of waiting and a young woman in a white coat walks in.

"I'm looking for Leila's brother!" She calls out.

I stand up and she motions for me to come over.

"Come with me, let's go talk." She motions.

Another poor sign. I do as she says though and take a seat in a small room.

"There's no easy way to do this. I'm so sorry to tell you this, but your sister didn't make it. Time of death was called thirty minutes ago. We did everything we could. In the end, the medication overdose is what took her." She tells me.

Leila's dead?

"Your niece—she's alive. She's in a room on our children's unit. She could really use a family member right now. She hasn't spoken since they found her, poor dear. She's in shock. It also seems…Sir, I hate to be the one to tell you, police can tell you more, but your niece seems to have sustained quite a few injuries and ailments common with abuse."

"I doubt I'll be much comfort. I haven't seen Leila since the girl was born. I don't even know her name. I didn't know she existed until today." I offered.

"Still, a caring adult would be nice now. If you decided to go check on her, she's on floor four in 434. Her name—it's Rowan." A beeper went off. "I'm so sorry, I have to take this."

I looked over to Taylor who looked…alarmed.

"Sir." He sighs. "The DNA results are back."

"There's no way she's…" I began.

"She is indeed your daughter."

And just like that—my entire world was crashing down. A bomb had gone off. I felt like the room was spinning.

"Sir?"

I didn't know what emotion to have. What the hell was I supposed to do in this situation? I began walking. I found the elevator, hit the fourth-floor button. I walked through the halls, ignoring the two staff members asking if I needed assistance. I found the room with ease. I pushed the door open, quietly, trying to remain undetected.

A tiny, redheaded girl lay in the hospital bed—the bed and oversized gown making her appear even tinier. To her side stood a female detective and none other than my mother in her own lab coat discussing something quietly with the detective.

"Christian?" My mother asked.

Before I could offer any response back, vibrant blue eyes looked up to me.

"Daddy?" The single word left her mouth with a lot of confidence for a child I had never once laid eyes on. "See! Daddy!" She told the detective handing him a piece of paper.

"What the fuck?" I mumbled.

"Christian, what is going on?" My mother asked.

"I didn't know…about her. I swear. Her mother never once told me she even suspected pregnancy." I told her—or maybe the detective—or maybe myself.

"Mr. Grey, this little one has a picture of you and has been insisting you are her father from the moment I arrived to speak with her. I just assumed it was a mother fantasizing and lying to her about it. Do you mean to tell me you believe this to be your daughter?"

I took a deep breath. What was I supposed to say? Rage was still overwhelming most of my emotional state but so was grief, so was sadness, even anxiety. Something else though was lurking in my heart. I wasn't sure what it was. I weighed all of these things as I spoke.

"I know she is. My team ran a DNA analysis. That little girl, is indeed, mine."