Emily looked back at Antonio with a calm smile. "Is your wife around?" Antonio's brows drew together immediately. Instead of answering, he studied her face carefully. "Why are you asking that?" he said, his voice measured but guarded. Emily shrugged lightly as though the question carried no deeper meaning. "Oh, I just needed to confirm something." Antonio remained silent. Emily continued before he could speak. "I heard some rather interesting rumors this morning." "What rumors?" She smiled innocently. "People are saying Cynthia has already left this house." Antonio's expression hardened. "They're saying she walked out because she found out about our child." Emily gently rocked the baby in her arms. "They say she couldn't accept the fact that I gave birth to your son." Antonio's patience snapped. "That's enough." Emily blinked. "I don't want to hear another word about those ridiculous rumors." She continued smiling. "I only repeated what everyone is already saying.

Emily's laughter echoed through the room as she cradled her son in one arm. Elias leaned back comfortably in his chair, pleased by the confidence in her voice. "So," he said, "tell me everything from the beginning." Emily smiled. "As you already know, Antonio called you because he couldn't find Cynthia." "Yes." "Well," Emily continued, "there is a reason for that." Elias became even more attentive. "I'm listening." Emily crossed one leg over the other. "Cynthia left Antonio's house." Elias straightened immediately. "What?" Emily nodded proudly. "She packed her belongings and walked out." A broad smile spread across Elias's face. "Are you serious?" "I am." "What made her leave?" Emily laughed softly. "She found out that Antonio and I have a child together." Elias' eyes widened with satisfaction. "So... the news finally reached her?" Emily nodded. "It spread throughout the city after my son's naming ceremony." She smiled smugly. "People couldn't stop talking abo

Antonio did not hesitate. Despite the pressure that filled the Beaumont mansion, he remained calm as he looked from Emily's father to her mother and then across the faces of the gathered relatives. Every expression reflected expectation, disappointment, or barely concealed anger. The atmosphere in the grand hall was so heavy that even the servants standing quietly along the walls hardly dared to breathe. Yet Antonio refused to let the tension shake him. He had already made his decision before coming there, and no amount of pressure would make him abandon it. "I have heard everything you've said," he began firmly. "I understand your family's disappointment, and I understand your concern for Emily and my son. But my answer remains the same." Emily's father clenched his jaw so tightly that the muscles in his face twitched. His eyes remained fixed on Antonio, hoping he would eventually change his mind. Antonio continued without showing the slightest hesitation. "I am willing to accept

The men immediately began their investigation about Mary Gibson. They spent hours searching through old public records, family photographs, forgotten social media accounts, and conversations with elderly residents who still remembered the families from years ago. What had first appeared to be a dead end slowly turned into a promising lead. Late that evening, Justin hurried into the room where the others were reviewing documents. "I think we've got something," he announced. The others looked up immediately. "What is it?" Justin placed several printed photographs on the dusty table. "Cynthia Morris and Mary Gibson." The men stared at the photographs. One was a recent picture of Cynthia. The others were old photographs showing two little girls standing beside each other during birthday parties, church gatherings, and family celebrations. "They're related," Justin said. One of the men frowned. "Are you sure?" Justin nodded confidently. "I traced their family trees. They're d

Mary's tear-filled eyes remained fixed on Emily. "Please," she whispered once again. "Where is Cynthia? Can I see her?" For several long seconds, Emily simply stared at her without saying a word. Her face revealed nothing, making it impossible for anyone in the room to guess what she was thinking. Finally, she spoke. "Are you absolutely sure about everything you've just told me?" Mary blinked through her tears. "What do you mean?" Emily folded her arms. "You said you and Cynthia grew up together." Mary nodded immediately. "You said you were like sisters." Mary nodded again. "You also said Cynthia's mother treated you like her own child." "Yes." Emily narrowed her eyes. "And you're certain you aren't lying?" Mary looked hurt by the question. "I have no reason to lie." Emily took another step toward her. "Look at me." Mary slowly lifted her head. "If I brought Cynthia here today, are you sure she'd know who you are?" The question caught Mary off guard. She froze.