I looked at him carefully.
"Is… all of that really true?" I asked.
Mr. Ronson met my eyes calmly.
"I have no reason to lie to you."
Ethan finally spoke, his voice quiet but sharp.
"Then why would they go that far?" he asked. "Framing you, ruining your life… for what?"
Mr. Ronson leaned back slightly.
"Because I was destroying their system," he explained. "Their network. Their money. Their influence. I shut down operation after operation. Eventually they decided it would be easier to remove me."
"That's it," he added. "That's all."
I frowned.
"But you should have come back," I said honestly. "You don't know… maybe my mom wanted you there. Maybe she needed you."
He looked down.
"I know," he said quietly.
His voice carried a kind of regret that filled the room.
"I realized that later. After I became successful. After I had everything… except my wife and my family near me."
The silence stretched for a moment.
Then suddenly he sighed.
"There's something else I need to tell you."
Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist.
He looked… guilty.
He closed his eyes briefly, like he was preparing himself.
"What is it?" I asked.
He didn't answer right away.
Instead he stood up and walked toward the huge window behind the desk. The city stretched far below us, cars moving like tiny dots.
His back was to us when he started speaking again.
"I loved your mother," he said quietly. "I loved Jack. I loved you."
My chest tightened.
Then he turned around slowly.
"But… there is someone else in my life."
I frowned slightly.
"Who?"
He hesitated for just a second.
Then he said a name.
"Luca."
The name sounded soft. Gentle. Almost shy.
"He's sixteen," Mr. Ronson continued.
Then he looked directly at me.
"He's your stepbrother."
For a second my brain completely stopped working.
"…my what?"
Mark blinked.
Even Ethan straightened a little in his chair.
Mr. Ronson raised his hands slightly, like he knew how this sounded.
"He's not my biological son," he explained quickly. "He's my stepson."
I was still trying to process the sentence.
Stepbrother.
Sixteen.
New human unlocked?
He continued.
"I married a woman several years ago. She already had a two-year-old son. She was very ill, and she had no one who could take care of him."
His voice softened.
"So I helped. I married her so I could support them. Unfortunately… she passed away later."
The room grew quiet again.
"But I kept raising her son," he finished gently. "He's my son now."
I exhaled slowly.
Then I leaned back in the chair, rubbing my forehead.
Wow.
Today was really full of surprises.
Long-lost father.
False prison story.
And now a surprise stepbrother.
Mark glanced at me carefully, probably analyzing my reaction like a scientist studying a new species.
Ethan was watching Mr. Ronson, his expression unreadable.
Finally I sighed.
"It's okay," I said softly.
Mr. Ronson looked surprised.
"Really?"
I nodded.
Then curiosity bubbled up before I could stop it.
"Can I see him?" I asked.
--------
When I said, "Can I see him?" I definitely did not mean:
Please take me to a mansion so big it could probably host its own Olympics.
But that's exactly what happened.
Mr. Ronson drove us to what he casually called his house.
House.
Right.
If this was a house, then my home was basically a decorative shoebox.
The gates alone were taller than three Ethans stacked on top of each other. The driveway curved for so long I was pretty sure we passed at least two weather systems before reaching the front door.
When the mansion finally appeared, I stared.
"Is… that a hotel?" I whispered.
"No," Mark said calmly.
"A museum?" I tried again.
"Still no."
"A small kingdom?"
Mark adjusted his glasses. "That would be the most statistically accurate description so far."
I laughed.
He turned slightly and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"I'm glad I came with you," he whispered.
Before I could reply—
Ethan sighed loudly.
Then he brushed Mark's hand off my shoulder and glared at him.
"Let's just get this over with."
I blinked.
Well.
Someone woke up and chose jealousy today.
Right then Mr. Ronson returned from parking the car.
"Shall we go in?" he asked warmly.
I nodded. "Yes… yes we shall."
We walked inside.
And somehow the inside was ten times worse.
Huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling like glittering stars. Marble floors shined so much I was scared I might slip and slide into another country.
Servants and maids appeared almost immediately.
Actual servants.
One offered water. Another welcomed us politely. Someone else bowed slightly.
I leaned toward Mark.
"Am I in a drama?" I whispered.
"Possibly," he replied.
Mr. Ronson led us into a gigantic living room and gestured for us to sit.
We did.
"Would you like water?" he asked kindly. "Or anything else?"
"Milk," Mark said.
I slowly turned to him.
"Milk?"
He looked completely serious.
"It is nutritious, calming, and statistically associated with improved focus," he explained.
Then he leaned slightly closer to me.
"And it helps maintain strong bones… which might be useful if someone plans on fainting today."
I shut my mouth.
Immediately.
Ethan looked away toward the window like he suddenly found the trees extremely interesting.
Mr. Ronson smiled and stood up.
"I'll go call Luca."
Once he left the room, I turned to Ethan.
"What's wrong?" I asked softly.
"Nothing," he said quickly.
He looked away again.
I gently reached out and turned his face back toward me.
"If you want to go… we can leave," I said quietly.
For a second the moment felt soft. Almost sweet.
Then—
SMACK.
He brushed my hand away.
"I'll stay," he said flatly. "This is your life."
Okay.
Rude.
Before I could argue, we heard footsteps.
All three of us stood.
Mr. Ronson walked back into the room.
And behind him—
A boy.
He was taller than me, which honestly wasn't a huge achievement because I'm apparently the size of a decorative plant. But he wasn't very tall either.
He had soft black hair that fell over his forehead and huge blue eyes.
The kind of eyes that made him look way younger than sixteen.
Gentle.
Kind.
And honestly… ridiculously cute.
Mr. Ronson gestured toward him.
"This is Luca."
Then he pointed to me.
"And this is Ayana. Your sister."
Sister.
That word still sounded strange.
Luca stepped forward politely and held out his hand.
"Nice to meet you."
I stared at him for a second.
Because—
Oh my gosh.
He was adorable.
Not in a baby way.
Just… soft and friendly and harmless.
I shook his hand.
"Nice to meet you too," I said, trying not to smile too much.
And then I noticed something.
His eyes.
They were blue.
Big.
Just like mine.
We had the same kind of smile too.
The only difference was our hair. Mine was blonde, his was black.
And he didn't wear glasses.
Luca sat down on the couch with us.
"I've heard a lot about you," he said politely. "Dad talks about you sometimes. I'm happy to meet you in person."
I waved a hand awkwardly.
"It's not a big deal."
Then I got curious.
"What school do you go to?"
"Mystic Heights Academy."
I gasped.
"WAIT—"
Everyone looked at me.
"Oh my gosh," I said. "We go to the same school!"
Luca nodded, smiling shyly.
"I know."
"You know?"
"I've seen you sometimes," he said calmly. "You just… never see me."
I groaned and covered my face.
"That sounds about right."
Then I sighed.
"Well," I said, smiling a little, "now we'll definitely see each other."
And in that moment I realized something.
Coming here today had been worth it.
I came with Mark and Ethan to learn the truth.
Now everything was clear.
Mostly.
And somehow…
I felt happy.
Now I just had one more mission.
Convince my mom.
And Jake.
Which, knowing my family…
Might actually be harder than discovering a secret billionaire father and a surprise stepbrother.