CHAPTER 3 — The Truth of Blood
The entire ballroom went silent.
Not the kind of silence born from politeness.
The kind born from shock so absolute that even breathing felt too loud.
Cole Merritt stood frozen, still holding little Lily in his arms.
His mind rejected what he had just heard.
It didn’t make sense.
It couldn’t.
Across the grand staircase, Margaret Merritt remained perfectly composed, one gloved hand resting on the banister as if she were discussing weather, not detonating a family legacy.
Cole’s voice came out hoarse.
“…Say that again.”
Margaret descended the final step.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Every heel strike echoed through the ballroom.
She stopped directly in front of him.
“I said,” she replied coldly, “you are not biologically a Merritt.”
Eva gasped.
The guests exploded into whispers.
“What?”
“No way—”
“That’s impossible!”
Cole shook his head.
“No.”
Margaret’s expression didn’t change.
“No?”
“No.”
His voice rose.
“You’re lying.”
Margaret exhaled slowly.
“For once, I am not.”
Cole felt rage flooding every vein.
“You raised me.”
“Yes.”
“You called me your son.”
“Yes.”
“You made me run your company.”
“Yes.”
His voice broke into a shout.
“Then how am I not your son?!”
Margaret’s face hardened.
“Because your father made a choice.”
Cole froze.
His father.
Richard Merritt.
Dead for ten years.
The man Cole worshipped.
Margaret folded her hands.
“Twenty-eight years ago, I gave birth to a stillborn son.”
The room fell still again.
Even the whispers stopped.
Cole stared.
Margaret continued.
“Your father knew I would not survive that loss.”
Her voice remained steady, but something dark flickered behind her eyes.
“So he did something unforgivable.”
Cole’s pulse thundered.
“What?”
Margaret looked directly at Eva.
Then Lily.
Then back at Cole.
“He found another infant.”
Cole’s blood turned cold.
No.
No.
No—
“A newborn boy whose mother had died during childbirth.”
Cole’s vision blurred.
Margaret delivered the final blow.
“That boy… was you.”
Lily tightened her arms around Cole’s neck.
Sensing danger.
Sensing pain.
Cole whispered:
“No…”
Margaret’s tone sharpened.
“Richard brought you to me and told me our son had survived.”
Cole’s breathing became ragged.
“You’re lying.”
Margaret said nothing.
Cole shook violently.
“No. Dad wouldn’t do that.”
“He did.”
“No!”
“He forged documents.”
“No!”
“He bribed doctors.”
“STOP!”
His scream shook the ballroom.
Lily flinched.
Cole immediately softened.
“It’s okay,” he whispered to her, though nothing was okay.
Nothing.
His entire identity shattered.
Who was he?
Not a Merritt?
Not Richard’s son?
Not Margaret’s son?
Then who?
His knees nearly buckled.
Eva rushed forward.
“Cole—”
He stepped back.
Breathing hard.
His voice trembled.
“Why tell me now?”
Margaret’s eyes narrowed.
“Because the board found out.”
Cole clenched his fists.
“So this is damage control?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Margaret’s gaze turned colder than marble.
“Because I refuse to let a stranger inherit the empire.”
The words sliced deep.
Stranger.
After everything.
All the years.
All the sacrifices.
He whispered:
“A stranger?”
Margaret didn’t flinch.
“I raised you.”
Cole laughed bitterly.
A broken laugh.
“Raised me?”
He stepped forward.
“You trained me like a weapon.”
Another step.
“You measured my worth by profit margins.”
Another.
“You never hugged me.”
Margaret’s jaw tightened.
“You never told me you loved me.”
Silence.
Cole’s voice cracked.
“And now you call me a stranger?”
For the first time—
Margaret looked away.
Just briefly.
Cole noticed.
And understood.
She wasn’t heartless.
She was terrified.
Terrified of attachment.
Terrified of loss.
Terrified of love.
But the realization changed nothing.
Pain remained pain.
Cole whispered:
“Who are my real parents?”
Margaret inhaled sharply.
“I don’t know.”
Cole stared.
“What?”
“The records were destroyed.”
“No.”
His voice turned deadly calm.
“You know something.”
Margaret stayed silent.
Cole stepped closer.
“You always know everything.”
Still silence.
Then—
A tiny voice interrupted.
“Grandma is lying.”
Everyone turned.
Lily.
The child pointed at Margaret.
Her small face had changed.
Serious.
Focused.
Margaret’s eyes narrowed.
Cole blinked.
“Lily?”
Lily pointed toward Margaret’s purse.
“She has the paper.”
Margaret stiffened.
Eva frowned.
“What paper?”
Lily tilted her head.
“The one with baby names.”
Cole froze.
Margaret’s composure cracked for the first time.
“What did you say?”
Lily pointed again.
“In your black bag.”
Margaret snapped.
“That child is mistaken.”
Lily pouted.
“No.”
She hugged Bunny.
“I saw it.”
Cole’s instincts sharpened.
He knew that reaction.
Margaret was hiding something.
“Mother.”
Her voice turned sharp.
“Do not.”
Cole extended his hand.
“Give me the bag.”
“No.”
“Now.”
Margaret’s voice became steel.
“You’re emotional.”
Cole stepped forward.
“And you’re afraid.”
The guests watched in stunned silence.
Margaret backed away one step.
That single movement told him everything.
She was hiding something.
Cole moved fast.
He grabbed the purse.
Margaret gasped.
“Cole!”
He ignored her.
Opened it.
Papers.
Wallet.
Phone.
Envelope.
Old.
Yellowed.
His heart pounded.
He pulled it out.
The envelope had handwritten words:
FOR COLE — IF HE EVER LEARNS THE TRUTH
His hands shook violently.
Margaret lunged.
“No!”
Too late.
He opened it.
Inside—
A birth certificate.
And a letter.
Cole looked at the certificate first.
His breathing stopped.
Mother: Clara Hart
Father: Unknown
Place of Birth—
He froze.
No.
No way.
Slowly…
Painfully…
He lifted his eyes toward Eva.
Same surname.
Hart.
Eva went pale.
She whispered:
“No…”
Cole’s voice disappeared.
“Eva…”
She trembled.
Her lips parted.
“No…”
He looked back at the certificate.
Hart.
Then at Eva.
Then back.
The truth formed.
Impossible.
Absurd.
Terrifying.
He barely managed to speak.
“Eva…”
His voice shattered.
“Who was Clara Hart?”
Eva burst into tears.
Margaret closed her eyes.
As if defeat had arrived.
Eva whispered:
“She was…”
She couldn’t finish.
Cole stepped closer.
“Tell me.”
Eva sobbed.
“She was my mother.”
The ballroom erupted.
Gasps.
Screams.
Shock.
Cole stopped breathing.
His mind rejected reality.
No.
No.
No—
If Clara was Eva’s mother…
And Clara was his birth mother…
Then—
His voice came out as a whisper.
“Eva…”
Tears streamed down her face.
She already knew.
She had reached the same conclusion.
Cole finished the sentence neither wanted to say.
“That means…”
Eva collapsed to her knees.
And whispered the nightmare.
“We’re siblings.”
Everything stopped.
Cole’s body went cold.
Lily stared in confusion.
“What’s siblings?”
No one answered.
Because no one could.
Cole looked at Margaret.
His eyes dead.
Empty.
Destroyed.
“You knew?”
Margaret said nothing.
That silence was answer enough.
Cole’s voice became monstrous.
“You knew?”
Margaret whispered:
“…Yes.”
Rage exploded.
“YOU LET ME FALL IN LOVE WITH HER?!”
Margaret shouted back.
“I TRIED TO KEEP YOU APART!”
Cole roared.
“BY DESTROYING HER LIFE?!”
Silence.
Margaret trembled.
Cole’s entire body shook.
Every memory with Eva twisted into horror.
Their night together.
Their child.
Lily.
No.
No.
This couldn’t be true.
It couldn’t—
Then—
A weak voice came from the entrance.
“...That’s impossible.”
Everyone turned.
An old man stood there.
Thin.
Fragile.
Supported by a cane.
But his eyes were sharp.
Margaret went white.
“No…”
Cole frowned.
The old man spoke.
His voice cracked with age.
“Because that certificate…”
He raised trembling fingers.
“…is fake.”
Margaret stopped breathing.
Cole stared.
The old man stepped forward.
“I know because…”
He looked directly at Cole.
And said:
May you like
“I forged it.”
To be continued…
