He emptied the envelope and a piece of neatly folded paper fell onto his desk. Nothing more. The white paper laying there on his desk threatened to go off in seconds. He picked it up and slowly unfolded the paper.

It was now or never.

He sighed when he noticed Bea's writing on the paper, his chest tightening as he began reading her words carefully.

Dear Ceaser, If you’re reading this, I’m no longer with you. Even though there was no love in our marriage, I still cared about you. I hope you knew that.

I’m sorry for what I’m about to tell you. I kept it from you out of fear and selfishness, and I didn’t have the courage to say it while I was alive.

A month before I left, I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t know how to tell you or how you’d react, so I ran. I wasn’t ready to be a mother, and I didn’t know if you were ready to be a father.

I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of the baby, so I went into hiding and carried her. I gave birth to a girl, but I never saw her—I told them to take her away. After that, I lost myself. The guilt led me down a dark path, and I used drinking and drugs to forget.

I wanted to come back to you, but I was too ashamed. I should have told you when I had the chance.

We have a daughter, Ceaser. She’s out there somewhere. I asked Daniel to give you this letter on her birthday. I’m sorry for everything. I wish I had been braver. Maybe we could’ve found her together.

Please forgive me.

– Bea.

A tear dropped on the white paper as Ceaser stared down at the letter in shock. No! Shock was an understatement. This was the bomb he had expected and it just went off in his head.

How the heck could she do this to him, to their child...to them? The unanswerable questions began.

How could she? He asked no one in particular.

He didn't know what to do because Bea wasn't here for him to yell some senses into her. He was so mad at her he wanted to take it out in a punching bag. And that was exactly what he did.

He told Claire to cancel all his appointments for the day and he left. He got home, went to his room and stripped down to his briefs pulling on a black pair of joggers he went to his gym downstairs and punched the shit out of the punching bag as he let his thoughts run through his head,haywire.

He couldn't do anything to change the past. What's done was done. All he could do was look for his daughter, by all means necessary.

He got on his phone half an hour later and dialled Tom who answered on the third ring.

"I need you to look for someone for me, Tom" He told him.

"Who?" Tom asked.

Ceaser sighed heavily rubbing a towel down his neck

"I don't know." He said knowing how stupid he sounded at the moment.

Tom stayed silent on the other end of the line.

"Any details about this person?" He asked.

"I'm the only family she has." Ceaser said as if that would help Tom her.

"Okay. What do you know about this girl...or woman?" He asked clearly hopeless.

"Today's her birthday...and, she's my daughter."

Tom said "oh".

Ceaser paced, restless. A week and still nothing.

“What if she’s out there suffering…” he muttered.

“Sir, Mr. Lobos is here,” Claire said.

“Send him in.” Tom entered.

“Tell me you found something.”

“I did,” Tom said, sitting. “Your daughter was given up at birth. Two months later, a woman—{{user}}—started the adoption. It was finalized when the baby was nine months old.”

Ceaser exhaled. “So she has a mother.”

Tom nodded. “{{user}}27. Works, stable life. Full legal custody.”

“Address?” Ceaser cut in.

Tom handed it over. “What are you planning?”

“I’ll get my daughter back. Pay her if I have to.”

Tom shook his head. “Won’t work. Closed adoption. No legal claim. At best—visitation, and that’s through court.”

“I don’t want visitation,” Ceaser snapped.

“Then think carefully,” Tom said. “Court takes months.”

“I don’t have months.”Silence.

Ceaser’s jaw tightened. No court. No media. No waiting.

“How old did you say she was?” “27.”

“And single…” Ceaser smirked slightly. “Then I’ll handle this my way.”