Chapter Three

THE BILLIONAIRE'S SON

The man's words hit Xavier like a missile. Perhaps he hadn't heard the man. What exactly did he just say?

Xavier furrowed his eyebrows and stared at the man, startled. “Sir, I don't understand,” he said. He needed clarification. Maybe his brain had interpreted something different.

“Have a look at this,” the man said to the puzzled Xavier whose eyebrows were wriggled. He handed him a brown envelope.

Xavier stretched out his non-IV arm to take the envelope from the man. He threw the man a suspicious look before going ahead to take out a paper from the envelope.

Xavier scanned the paper, scrutinizing it with his eyes. He handled the paper like it was a strange mysterious artifact that he'd found on the roadside.

As Xavier read through the paper, his eyes widened with shock. What was this he was seeing on the paper? Was it original or had it been faked by this man? Shouldn't he be wary of him? What if the man was a killer?

Xavier immediately waved the thought of his mind. He wasn't even that precious to be assigned an assassin. But even as he thought the stranger was dangerous, his calm demeanor made it so hard to believe.

The man didn't look like someone who'd want to kill him. In fact as a man of high class, a man that commanded much authority— that was who Xavier thought the man to be— he had more important things to deal with than to scare him or try to kill him. From the way he'd dressed and the aura he'd exuded, you could tell that the man was no common person.

“I-I don't b-believe this. It can't be true. You're n-not my father.” Xavier stuttered.

“Well, I was expecting this response from you. I know, it's shocking and I'm not expecting you to believe me. It's a long story. When I rushed you in here, you'd already lost a lot of blood and so the doctor said you needed a blood transfusion first before any further treatment would commence.”

The man paused to take a deep breath and then continued. “Unfortunately, no one had the same blood type as you, except, of course, for me.”

“I don't understand.”

“We both share the same blood type, a very rare one. The Rh null blood type.”

The man knew Xavier was still confused, so he said. “I have been looking for my son for more than two decades. I lost him in an accident and since then I've been hoping I'd see him. And here you are, before me. When I hit you, I had no idea that I was going to be finally reunited with my son.”

Xavier still couldn't understand what the man was talking about. None of this made any sense to him. He needed to know how the man came up with the DNA result.

“Sir, with all due respect. I don't think I'm your son or I'm related to him in any way. I get that my blood type is the same as yours, although it's rare, it might be coincidental. I have no father. I have no parents. I'm an orphan.”

“No, you're not. I am your father, and you are my son. I proceeded to carry out a DNA test once I saw that my blood type was the same as yours. You looked just the age my son would have been, and what was more concerning was that you have a certain birthmark on your hand, a birthmark I knew too well belonged to my son. It looks like a flying horse.”

Xavier looked at his IV arm. Just beneath his sleeve was a birthmark, a scar that somehow looked like pegasus.

The atmosphere had gone quiet. Xavier noticed the man had gone sober, he was probably stopping himself from letting out tears. He took up the paper and then looked at it one more time. The DNA test results were original. He looked at the birthmark on his hand, it was still as clear as ever.

Xavier still wouldn't believe the man. “But, I don't understand,” Xavier said. “My father is dead. He died more than twenty years ago. I'm an orphan, my parents died in an accident.”

“The same accident where I lost you twenty years ago. You were just a little kid then. Rumor had it that I had died, but I did not and I'm so disappointed that no one told you the truth.”

If truly this man was his father, why hadn't he searched for him these last few years of his life? Why did he let him suffer all alone on the street? Xavier wanted to ask these questions, but he decided he wouldn't at least, not for now.

“ I'm so excited I've finally had to speak with you, my only son whom I'd lost. I never thought I'd see you again, Xavier.”

He let out a smile. “You need to know your identity son. I'm so disappointed that you're known as an orphan. I'm Mr. Dean Fitzgerald if you must know. The owner of the Fitzgerald conglomerate, and you are my son. My biological son”

Xavier's eyes widened with utter shock. He knew this name. He'd heard it countless times from the wealthy people he'd lived with. That name— Fitzgerald— the name of the man who the Denvers would die for you to work for as his gardener? The name was powerful.

Mr Fitzgerald was powerful. He was a renowned billionaire. A man of class, a man who commanded respect and authority. He wielded power. Even the fates of many prominent men were in his hands. He was the owner of the multibillion-dollar conglomerate— the conglomerate that the Denvers would give their lives to work under. And Xavier was the son of this man? It was impossible. It was unbelievable.

Xavier let out a hysterical chuckle. How on earth was he going to believe this? It was too ridiculous, too impossible to be true.

“I know it's hard to believe, but you're the heir to the conglomerate. You own it now, and every other property I own.”