Chapter 90: The Open Secrets

Wilson stormed through the front door of the estate, his informant's news still fresh in his mind. He didn't even pause to hang up his coat, his eyes narrowing as he walked toward his personal living room. As he approached, he heard muffled voices and a giggle that made his blood boil. He quickened his pace, his polished shoes thudding against the marble floor. When he reached the living room, he stopped dead in his tracks, his heart skipping a beat. Ezra, his son—his heir—was sprawled on Wilson's favorite leather armchair, the one he had specifically ordered from Italy. But it wasn't just Ezra. A girl, barely clothed, was seated on his lap, her arms draped around his neck, her lips locked onto his in a passionate kiss. Wilson's nostrils flared as he took in the scene. He rubbed his temples, feeling the tension building behind his eyes, a headache he knew all too well. The sight of the girl—her hair tousled, her lipstick smeared—sent a wave of nausea through him. “Ezra,” Wilson’s l