Chapter 13

The morning sun cast golden rays through Evelyn Sinclair's penthouse windows, painting the marble floors with streaks of light. She stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass, sipping her espresso, her mind still lingering on last night's argument with Nathan Blackwood.

He just doesn't understand.

Her phone buzzed—Victoria Hayes, her ever-efficient yet subtly scheming secretary.

"Ms. Sinclair, your 10 AM meeting with Preston Whitmore has been moved to the rooftop lounge. He insisted."

Evelyn frowned. Preston was known for his dramatic flair, but this was unusual.

The rooftop lounge of the Blackwood Tower was an exclusive space, usually reserved for high-profile negotiations. As the elevator doors slid open, Evelyn was met with an unexpected sight—Nathan, standing near the railing, deep in conversation with Preston.

Her breath hitched.

Nathan turned, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers. The tension between them crackled in the air, unspoken words hanging heavy.

Preston, ever the mediator, cleared his throat. "Ah, Evelyn! Perfect timing. I was just telling Nathan about the new project—Midnight Serenade."

Evelyn forced a smile. "I wasn’t aware you two were collaborating."

Nathan’s lips twitched. "Neither was I, until this morning."

Preston chuckled, oblivious to the undercurrents. "Well, fate works in mysterious ways. This film needs both of you—Evelyn’s vision and Nathan’s influence."

Evelyn’s fingers tightened around her tablet. Working with Nathan? After everything?

Before she could protest, Nathan stepped closer, his voice low. "Unless you’re afraid of a little professional proximity?"

Her spine straightened. "Hardly. I just prefer my projects drama-free."

Nathan smirked. "Then it’s settled. We’ll play nice—for the sake of the film."

Preston clapped his hands. "Excellent! First script read-through is tomorrow. Don’t be late."

As Preston walked away, Evelyn turned to leave, but Nathan caught her wrist. His touch sent an electric jolt through her.

"Running away already?" he murmured.

She yanked her arm free. "Unlike you, I have actual work to do."

Nathan’s gaze darkened. "This isn’t over, Evelyn."

She didn’t look back as she strode to the elevator, but his words echoed in her mind.

No, she thought. It’s only just begun.

A deafening roar erupted through the Blackwood manor’s grand living room, shaking the very foundations of the estate like a violent thunderstorm.

The revelation was so staggering that it left everyone frozen in shock, their eyes locked onto the nine-year-old boy standing before them.

A single thought echoed through every mind in the room: How could this be?

Even Sophia Blackwood’s breath hitched, her mind blank. She couldn’t comprehend the truth—that her child had not died, that he had been raised by Daniel Prescott, right under Adriana’s nose all these years.

That’s my son?

Liam, oblivious to the stunned gazes fixed on him, was far more concerned with the state of his father and grandmother. He tried to rush toward them, but Nathan Blackwood’s grip clamped around his wrist in an instant.

Nathan was the first to regain his composure. His dark eyes bore into Liam’s youthful face, assessing every feature.

So, Evelyn claims this is my nephew?

Years ago, Sophia had gone into premature labor. By the time the Blackwoods arrived at the private hospital they had funded for Daniel, all they found was a stillborn child.

But fate had other plans.

Nathan’s jaw tightened, his expression turning dangerously cold.

Meanwhile, Evelyn Sinclair steadied herself after the chaotic scuffle. Daniel Prescott, whom she had knocked to the ground, clutched his bloodied face, his voice a furious snarl. "You—!"

But his rage died in his throat when he saw Liam—held firmly behind Evelyn by Nathan.

And when Nathan turned that lethal gaze on him, Daniel felt his blood turn to ice.

Evelyn had no choice but to speak. "I had suspicions from the start. Liam bears an uncanny resemblance to the Blackwoods. And that woman in the video—Adriana—she looks nothing like him."

Daniel’s face paled. "W-What nonsense are you spouting?"

Here she goes again, spinning wild theories.

Evelyn knew her words might sound absurd. Matters like this weren’t to be taken lightly—especially when they involved a woman like Sophia, who had mourned a child she believed was lost forever. False hope could be devastating.

But she had no choice. No matter how outrageous it seemed, she couldn’t let that snake Daniel take Liam away. Who knew what he’d do to the boy?

Swallowing hard, Evelyn turned to Nathan. "Don’t you see it? He looks just like—"

"Like Sophia," Nathan , his voice deep and unwavering. "It’s no coincidence."

Evelyn’s eyes widened in surprise. When she met Nathan’s gaze, there was no hesitation—only absolute certainty, as if he trusted her without question.

Is he serious?

A faint smirk tugged at Nathan’s lips before he addressed Daniel. "The Blackwoods have doubts about this child’s parentage. We will verify it."

Daniel’s world tilted. Just moments ago, he had been fantasizing about revenge. Now, the tables had turned in the most brutal way possible.

"Have you all lost your minds? Liam is my son—Adriana’s and mine! Sophia’s child died years ago—!"

But the moment the words left his mouth, he realized the gravity of his mistake. Fear choked him, rendering him speechless.

Especially under Nathan’s glacial stare.

Daniel’s silence was damning.

Liam, though young, sensed something was wrong. He struggled against Nathan’s grip, desperate to reach Daniel.

Even if Daniel had always been cold and Adriana cruel—they were still the only parents he had ever known.

Then, suddenly, warm arms wrapped around him.

Sophia clutched Liam’s shoulders, her beautiful face streaked with tears. Her hands trembled as she cupped his cheeks, her breath hitching with silent sobs.

And for the first time, Liam felt an inexplicable sorrow—as if her pain had become his own.

Sophia stared at him, her heart breaking and healing all at once. The resemblance was undeniable.

Margaret Blackwood, Nathan’s mother, finally stopped making excuses. "He looks exactly like Nathan and Julian did at his age."

Half an hour later, Nathan calmly called for an ambulance.

Only then did Adriana notice Daniel—unconscious, broken—while Liam stood protected by the Blackwoods.

Liam stared at Adriana, his lips parting, but the word "Mom" wouldn’t come. Instead, all he managed was a broken whisper. "Why?"

Adriana’s face twisted with venom. "This is the debt you and your mother owe me. You should’ve died with that stillborn—just like my son!"

Liam’s world shattered.

That woman wasn’t his mother.

She was the monster who had stolen him from his real family.

Evelyn watched the scene unfold, her heart heavy. She had no desire for gossip now—only to ensure Adriana faced justice.

If only she had known Adriana’s name sooner.

If only she had seen the truth from the start.

But fate had its own cruel way of revealing secrets.

And this one had just torn a family apart—and put it back together in the most painful way possible.

The entire Prescott family was convinced that Sophia Blackwood was to blame for their misfortunes. So when Sophia gave birth to her son, Adriana demanded that Daniel compensate her by handing over the child.

Evelyn Sinclair immediately concluded that Adriana was utterly deranged.

And to preserve Daniel’s fragile ego, he agreed—as if this was the only way he could salvage his pride.

Pathetic, Evelyn thought bitterly. Then again, this was her rival’s child. How could Adriana possibly raise him with love? That was why Liam grew up with such deep-seated insecurities. All because of that shameless pair. What a tragic life for an innocent boy.

When Adriana became pregnant again, she and Daniel wanted nothing more than to shower their own child with affection. Liam had become an inconvenience—an obstacle to their happiness. That was when their cruelty truly surfaced.

Before the Blackwoods arrived, Adriana had been gloating, mocking Sophia for failing to recognize her own son even when he stood right in front of her. She had planned to keep raising her rival’s child, ensuring he remained estranged from his real family. That way, Liam would always side with her and Daniel. And when the time was right, everything would go to their real son.

But then—

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Margaret Blackwood, usually the epitome of grace, lost all composure. She struck Adriana’s face again and again, her movements frenzied, her fury unrestrained. By the time she stopped, Adriana’s cheek was swollen, blood trickling from her split lip.

Just moments ago, Adriana had been smug, reveling in her twisted victory. But now, faced with the Blackwoods’ wrath, she froze. When she finally dared to lift her head, she met Richard Blackwood’s glacial stare. He didn’t speak—didn’t need to. The sheer menace radiating from him was enough to make her blood run cold.

“I—I’m pregnant!” Adriana stammered, panic creeping into her voice. “You can’t hurt me!”

Nathan Blackwood stepped forward, his voice like steel. “We won’t touch your child. But you will answer for what you’ve done.”

If the Blackwoods weren’t bound by the law, Adriana and Daniel would already be dead.

But sometimes, living was far worse than dying.

Especially for liars like them.