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Novel Catalog
Chapter 62
Victor followed Henrick toward the porridge stall, his thoughts still swirling. The conversation with the child had unsettled him in a way he hadn’t expected. Every word Henrick spoke seemed to resonate with him, especially the mention of his grandmother and Gia. Who were they? How did Henrick fit into all this? And why did the name “Ricky” seem so familiar to him?
Henrick, unaware of the storm of thoughts brewing in Victor’s mind, was happily skipping along, his eyes bright with curiosity. He was clearly enjoying the morning and the company of the man who had so unexpectedly become a part of his day.
Victor’s heart tightened when he glanced at the little boy, and he found himself wondering just how much of his own past Henrick might be connected to. Could he really be his son? The resemblance was uncanny, but there were so many unanswered questions.
When they reached the stall, Henrick eagerly walked up to the counter and placed his order. Victor stood nearby, observing him closely, trying to piece together what this all meant. He couldn’t shake the feeling that fate had somehow placed Henrick in his path today. The timing felt too perfect, too deliberate, for it to be mere coincidence.
As they waited for Henrick’s porridge to be prepared, Victor took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He had to approach this cautiously. He couldn’t let his emotions cloud his judgment. He needed answers, and he needed them soon.
Henrick’s bright smile cut through Victor’s turbulent thoughts. “Uncle, the porridge here is really good! My mom loves it. I’m going to bring some back for her too.”
Victor nodded, his lips curving into a soft smile. “It sounds like your mom is very special to you.”
“She is,” Henrick replied, his tone serious for a moment. “She works really hard. I want to take care of her.”
Victor’s chest tightened at the child’s words. There was something about Henrick’s maturity, his protective instinct toward his mother, that made Victor feel even more drawn to him. It was like looking at a younger version of himself, a boy who had grown up too quickly, but with a warmth and kindness that felt like a balm to his troubled heart.
The porridge arrived, and Henrick quickly paid for it. He turned to Victor, ready to leave. “Thank you, Uncle! I’ll go back to Mom now.”
Victor watched him go, feeling a strange mix of pride and longing in his chest. As Henrick disappeared into the crowd, Victor stood there for a moment, his mind racing again. He needed to find out more about this boy—more about Eden, about their past. Everything he had been searching for was so close now, but it still felt out of reach.
With a final glance in the direction Henrick had gone, Victor made up his mind. He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to meet Eden, to ask her about Henrick, to uncover the truth that had eluded him for so long.
Victor turned and walked away, a sense of purpose settling over him. No more waiting. No more uncertainty. He was going to find the answers he needed, no matter what it took.
Chapter 63
Victor’s impatience was palpable as he paced outside the porridge stall, the phone pressed tightly to his ear. His emotions were all over the place—frustration, curiosity, and something deeper he couldn’t quite place. The moment with Henrick had stirred up so many questions, so many thoughts. The way the boy reacted to the mention of “father” only intensified his need to uncover the truth. Was Henrick truly his son, or was he simply a reminder of someone from his past?
Anson’s groggy voice on the other end snapped Victor out of his reverie. “What’s going on? Why the early wake-up call, Victor? It’s the weekend!”
Victor’s gaze followed Henrick, who was getting further away, a tiny figure in the distance, holding the takeaway bags in his small hands. He clenched his jaw, his tone cold but urgent. “Anson, have you talked to Henrick’s agent yet? Do you have any information about the boy’s father?”
Anson was quiet for a beat, then sighed heavily. “I’ve been busy, Victor. I haven’t had a chance to dig into it yet. Why does it matter so much all of a sudden?”
“Because I think he might be my son, Anson!” Victor’s voice was sharp, carrying a level of intensity that even surprised him. His mind raced as he replayed the interactions with Henrick, especially the boy’s sudden shift in demeanor when “father” was mentioned. It was all starting to make sense—Henrick, the resemblance, the connection, everything.
Anson was quiet again, the weight of Victor’s words sinking in. After a long pause, he muttered, “I’ll get on it. I’ll find out what I can. But you need to be careful, Victor. If this kid really is your son, things are going to get complicated.”
Victor’s grip on the phone tightened. “I’m not backing down, Anson. I need answers. I can’t let this go.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll call you later,” Anson responded, his tone softer now, the exhaustion from being woken up evident in his voice.
Victor hung up without another word, the questions swirling in his mind. The pieces of his past were starting to come together, but the answers weren’t enough. He needed more.
Turning his attention back to Henrick, who had now disappeared around a corner, Victor’s heart quickened. He could feel the weight of the unknown pressing down on him, and the urgency to discover the truth had never been more real.
Victor took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. There was no turning back now. Tomorrow, he would meet Henrick again, and he would do whatever it took to learn the truth—no matter where it led.