Raising Kiara Novel – Kian was surprised to receive a call from the Los Angeles police asking him to go to the police station. He was uneasy and didn’t know what happened. “Unfortunately, two days ago your daughter’s mother was found shot dead in her home in England. Your daughter is fine but is now in your full custody since you are named as her biological father on her birth certificate.” Sitting in the chair he was shocked again, what is she talking about, how can I have a child? After completing the paternity test, he had no choice but was on a first-class flight to London to meet with his supposed daughter and her social worker. The moment he saw his daughter Kiara, all his fears and doubts disappeared. She is so lovely. “She’s mine.” He rumbled into Kiara’s neck, causing her to giggle preciously. “Tell whoever you need to tell, she’s coming home with me.” he said to the social worker.
Kian Wiley was surprised to receive a call from the Los Angeles police asking him to go to the police station. He was uneasy and didn’t know what happened. Once he eventually reached the front desk, he was led to a private meeting room where a young officer sat awaiting his presence behind a cluttered desk. “Hi, Mr Wiley?” She questioned him, professionalism forcing her to pretend she didn’t already know exactly who he was. He only manages to nod his head in confirmation while standing as stiff as a board, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “Take a seat.” She offered, gesturing with her hand to the chair in front of her desk whilst the person that had lead him there left the room and shut the door behind him.
He hesitantly took a seat, still remaining tense and on edge. “Unfortunately two days ago your daughter’s mother was found shot dead in her home in England. Your daughter is fine but is now in your full custody since you are named as her biological father on her birth certificate.” The woman explains in a condescending, empathetic tone whilst the young man in front of her tries to refrain from scoffing at the words spewing from her mouth. He doesn’t have a daughter. He’s basically a child himself. He certainly acts like one. “Um, I’m sorry but I think you’ve got the wrong Mr Wiley. I’m twenty two. I don’t have a daughter.” He states, the tremors in his bones coming to a halt as he realises this is all one big misunderstanding. “There’s no mistaking you’re Kian Wiley. Your face is everywhere in this city. I understand perhaps you weren’t informed of your daughters existence but your name is on her birth certificate which is the only document they were able to find.”
The officer explains as carefully as possible. It was part of the job to break such delicate news with care and consideration. The stubborn young man shakes his head profusely and stands from his seat. “Well it was obviously faked. You should know fans do anything to get my attention or drag my name through the mud.” He snaps back, glaring at the innocent woman who’s job has now been made increasingly more difficult. “We could do a DNA test to make sure if you like?” She scrambles to her feet, desperate to keep him there for the sake of the poor distraught little girl. “I’m sorry but like I said, you’re the only relative of hers we could find so she has nobody else. If she truly is yours and you aren’t able to take her into your care we could put her up for adoption but you’ll still legally have to be involved in the process if you turn out to be a DNA match.”
The woman continues to persuade the man who is in complete denial. His frustration levels rise as he seems to be pulled deeper and deeper into this mess with each passing second. If the public were to catch wind of this it would blow up and his reputation would be damaged until it’s officially proven to be a false rumour. There are now pictures of him entering LA PD thanks to the paparazzi that he could vividly picture being on the front page of news articles. Not to mention, his family would find out. What would his older brother say? He’d tease him endlessly. Kian couldn’t let that happen. “What if I say no?” He asks, his argument becoming weaker as he realises the seriousness of the situation he’s in. He tries to avoid all thoughts of the poor orphan child and focuses all of his attention on his annoyance. “We can’t force you to get a paternity test but the court will take refusal to participate as you being the biological father. They’ll have no evidence to suggest otherwise.
You’ll forever be listed as her dad unless you take a test to prove you aren’t.” The officer responds exercising a well needed chunk of patience with the argumentative celebrity infront of her. Kian lets out a deep sigh of aggravation and balls his fists. “Fine. I’ll take a stupid test just make it quick.” He grumbles out. – Kiara sat contently on a large, cream sofa in her social carer’s house. She was happy to sit watching one of her favourite films, Nemo, so long as she was cuddling her favourite turtle teddy. Her mother had bought it for her when she was born and the three year old couldn’t live without it. The social worker sat at her dining table nearby, holding her breath hoping and praying that the toddler doesn’t ask about her mother again and have yet another meltdown asking for her ‘mama’. They had just been to the doctors office to take some of Kiara’s blood for a paternity test that her father was insisting on having.
Soon she got the call, “The samples were a match. He’s her father. We’ve already contacted the Los Angeles Police Department and told them. They’re going to convince him to travel down here so we can sort out what happens from then on.” The English officer informs Donna who lets out a sigh at the news. “Okay, give me a call back as soon as you hear from them again, please.” Donna responded professionally before they both hung up and went back to their own buisness. – Kian sat holed up in his apartment telling himself that it was some crazy fan trying to mess with his life ever since he received that dreaded phone call from LA PD. He had always been careful enough not to get any of the many girls he slept with pregnant. He received a phone call early one morning telling him that the results came back and he was indeed the father of the mysterious girl he didn’t even know the name of.
Just like that, Kian’s whole world caved in on him. After endless persuasion from the LA police department, he was on a first class flight to London to meet with his supposed daughter and her social worker to talk about options. Many more similar questions plagued his mind throughout the eleven hour flight until he eventually fell asleep. On the car journey there his heart rate increased by a ten fold and his palms became sweaty. Which one of his girls had he impregnated? Why didn’t she try to contact him when it happened? Did the child look like him? Was she bratty? If she was raised by one of the snobby socialites he slept with at one of the exclusive parties he attended then she’s bound to be just as arrogant. She’s probably been spoilt since the day she was born and doesn’t know the words please or thank you. Would she throw tantrums if he refused to give her what she wanted? He couldn’t handle that. He was hardly able to look after himself never mind a child.
He only moved out of his auntie’s place at eighteen when he started travelling more for movies and tv shows he was cast in. Even when he did live there he was barely home due to his acting career. He lived off of room service and takeaways. He only learnt how to work a washing machine at the age of nineteen when his brother had refused to do his washing for him any longer. He dropped out of school early to persue his career and he was constantly travelling. What kind of parent could he be? “Kian Wiley?” A woman asked with a small smile on her face, despite being yet another person who already knew exactly who he was. Kian slowly nodded his head feeling his heart thumping almost in his throat. He took off his sunglasses and pulled down his scarf and hood now that he had arrived. “Do you wanna see her? I didn’t tell her about you because I didn’t want to get her hopes up incase you changed your mind but she’s the sweetest little thing.”
Donna asks opening the door wider and gesturing for Kian to enter her house. Kian reluctantly steps inside and looks to Donna with an almost haunted expression. He wasn’t sure he was ready to meet her. But before he even had time to process his own response, he nodded his head agreeing to see her. Donna turned around and lead the way. He stayed rooted on the spot for a minute before shaking his head and stalking forwards, keeping his eyes on the floor as he walked deep in thought. And when he lifted his head he thought he was looking into time portal. Right infront of him sat a tiny female version of himself, practically submerged in the massive leather sofa clutching a fluffy green toy. His heart near stopped beating and he held his breath in complete shock. Nine months, nine years couldn’t have prepared him for the feeling of laying eyes on her for the first time. She was his. There was no doubt in his mind now. They had the same red hair, blue eyes and freckled skin.
He almost felt sorry for whoever her mother was for spending nine months pregnant growing her and going through a painful labour only to birth his little clone. When her wide eyes snapped to him and her pouty pink lips stretched into a smile he thought he might melt right then and there. But what she said next instantly brought tears to the young man’s eyes. “Dada!” The girl pointed his way adorably in recognition. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree and she bounced excitedly in her seat. She turned over onto her stomach and wiggled off the sofa, clambering over towards her dad and hugging his legs, not being able to reach any further up. Kian stood still, speechless and frozen in shock. She knew him? How did she recognise him? He didn’t know she existed yet she could recognise him within seconds of laying her eyes upon him.
There she was, clinging onto his legs and beaming like his very own ray of sunshine. Kian knelt down to her hight and carefully took her smooth and chubby toddler hands into his own. “You know me?” He whispered. Two trails of tears fell from his identical blue eyes and he did nothing to stop them. “Why dada cry?” She asked, tilting her head to one side which was utterly adorable Kian thought. He couldn’t believe he ever doubted wanting to have her in his life. Or that he thought she’d be spoiled and bratty. He wiped his tears and let out a sniffly laugh at her adorable concern. He reached out and pulled her tiny body into his arms, burying his face in her soft ginger hair. His heart skipped a beat as he inhaled her baby scent and basked in how his heart felt completely whole in this moment. “She’s mine.” He rumbled into her neck, causing her to giggle preciously at the vibrations tickling her skin. “Tell whoever you need to tell, she’s coming home with me.”