Logan

Mrs Foggarty handed him the unopened letter. "Thank you," he replied. She left him alone in the foyer of the mansion. In the top right-hand corner of the letter was Genetics International. Why the company insisted on mailing out the results, he would never know.

Whatever was printed on the letter inside could change his life forever. Change his family forever. Whether or not Holden and the Vermonts knew was another question entirely.

Logan grabbed the letter opener from the desk, but just as he was about to open it up, the door opened. "Home so early?" His dad asked, smiling, the warm look in his eyes sending a spear of guilt straight through his heart.

His dad set down his briefcase and made his way down the hallway towards the table by his study. Logan tried to sneak the envelope behind his back, but it crinkled in his hand and the look in his dad's eyes gave it all away. He knew.

"Aaron already told me," his dad admitted. "The purchase from the card was flagged so Aaron looked into it." Aaron was his dad's assistant, responsible for making sure that anything flagged in their accounts was checked out.

Logan realised he was a true moron when he'd used his own credit card that was linked to the family trust.

"Dad..." Logan began. Now that his dad knew of his suspicions, their relationship was going to be ruined forever. When they looked in that envelope, no matter what the result was, they would both know that Logan had doubted.

"I don't know what the result is," he continued. "You can open that envelope if you want, that's your right, but before you do, please hear me out."

He paused to take a deep breath.

"When you were born and I saw your bright blue eyes, I had my suspicions. I've taken biology too," he laughed dryly. "But then I held you in my hands." His hands were outstretched, as though he were cradling a baby, and his voice wavered. He cleared his throat. "You smiled at me, and you held my finger." Logan looked at the ground. He could feel the back of his throat tightening, burning.

"And I knew, no matter what, that you were mine. Then you started to walk, then you called me dad for the first time." A tear glistened as it rolled down his cheek. He turned to the side and cleared his throat again. The Greens had never been ones to be overly emotional. Logan's hand tightened around the envelope.

"I've watched you grow and become the man you are today. I don't care what the piece of paper in there says. You're my son. No matter what." Quentin wrapped his arms around his son. Logan could feel his father shaking.

"I know, Dad."

"Ok, well, I'm going to go get cleaned up for the gala tonight. Your mum will not be impressed if I look like this," Quentin sniffled, taking a step back, holding his arms out to reveal a wrinkled shirt that was untucked and a tie that had been loosened. Even his pants that were normally tailored to fit seemed to hang off his frame.

For the first time in a long time, Logan had realised that his father had aged. The wrinkles in his forehead had deepened, and the greys were coming through in his formerly dark brown hair. His face was gaunt, his cheekbones more prominent than before.

His dad disappeared down the hallway and Logan was left staring at the envelope. His fingers hovered above the letter opener and above the envelope. Every time he came close, he put the opener back down. All he could see was the look of betrayal in his dad's eyes.

Family isn't just blood. Family are the people who are always there for you, and there was no denying it – his dad had always been there; at every soccer practice, every scraped knee, the first time he rode a bike, the first time he lost a tooth.

Logan went into the study and tucked the letter into the inside cover of 'George's Marvellous Medicine' by Roald Dahl.

He decided for now that he didn't need to know for sure.

Logan went upstairs to get ready and left a note on the kitchen table to let his parents know he'd head to the gala first.

He arrived at six. For business people, most of the guests were late, including his parents. The waiter offered him a glass of champagne. He took two from the tray and downed them both. The waiter looked at him wide eyed before collecting the empty glasses.

The thought of the letter lingered at the back of his mind. He did, but at the same time didn't, want to open the letter.

He needed to keep his mind occupied, and fast. It was when he was looking around for the rest of the grub that he spotted a girl entering the ballroom looking awfully lost. She was in a black off-shoulder floor length gown that hugged in all the right places, her loose brown curls bouncing against her back as she looked around the room.

He only realised who it was when she turned in his direction.

Perfect.

She would be his distraction for the night.

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whoo an in-week update!

pls vote if you enjoyed - my goal is for 25 votes on this chap hehehe

things are getting exciting!!