FATHER OF A BASTARD SOM ASKED FOR A DIVORCE PLUS 50 MILLION

Chapter 7

Hearing her mention the kids only poured gasoline on the fire in Michael's soul. The thought of Leo, the boy he had held, loved, and raised as his own flesh and blood sent a wave of suffocating agony through his lungs.

"One of those children isn't mine, Susan!" Michael screamed, his tears spilling over. "One of them belongs to the bastard you slept with! How do you expect me to look at him without dying inside every single day?!"

Susan’s face hardened instantly, her sympathetic act dropping like a stone. "Fine!" she hissed bitterly. "Walk away then! See how far you get! You think you can even support a child on your own after a divorce?! You're a nobody doctor with no real career!"

"Then I'll work until my hands bleed!" Michael fired back, his eyes dead set on hers. "I am done stepping back. I am done being your free housekeeper while you build an empire on my back! I felt the sting of your betrayal once, Susan that is more than enough for one lifetime. I am never coming back."

Susan stared at him, realizing that no amount of coaxing or threatening was going to break him this time. Her eyes filled with pure venom.

"You are useless," Susan said, her voice dripping with cold disgust. "Pathetic and useless. Have fun sleeping in hotel rooms."

She spun on her high heels, snatched her purse, and slammed the door violently behind her.

Michael slumped onto the edge of the bed, trembling. He looked out the window down at the street below. He watched Susan walk out of the hotel lobby and get into her black sedan. But to his confusion, the car didn't drive off. It just sat idling at the curb.

He watched it for a whole hour before the headlights finally flashed and the car pulled away into the dark night.

Michael didn't sleep a single wink.

He lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how a marriage that everyone had envied, a marriage blessed by all their friends and family—had turned into such a tragic, bloody mess. He felt a wave of terrifying powerlessness.

When he finally drifted off near dawn, he had a nightmare. He dreamed of a blurry figure holding Susan in the dark, laughing at him. He dreamed of holding a smooth, red divorce certificate in his hands, feeling completely hollow, as if his entire soul had been scooped out.

When he finally opened his eyes, the morning sun was burning his face, and his pillow was soaked with cold tears.

Michael sat up, wiping his face. He knew he couldn't convince Susan—she was too stubborn, too arrogant, and too caught up in her own lies. But there was still one person who might be able to talk sense into her.

His Mrs. Helen, Mrs. Helen.

Helen had always been wonderful to him. Years ago, before he met Susan, Helen had been a patient in his hospital department. Michael had treated her with immense care and gentleness, and Helen had taken an instant liking to him. In fact, she was the one who had practically forced Susan to go on a date with him, orchestrating their whirlwind romance.

Over the five years of their marriage, Helen had always taken Michael’s side during family arguments. She treated him like her own son. Michael believed that if anyone could make Susan face the truth and sign the divorce papers peacefully, it was her.

By mid-morning, Michael arrived at the Sterling family's private estate.

When he walked into the main living room, he found Mrs. Helen sitting on the plush sofa, watching television alongside an elderly friend from her social club. His father-in-law was out on his weekly fishing trip.

"Oh, Michael!" Helen beamed the moment she saw him walk in. "Look who decided to drop by!"

Michael forced a warm, respectful smile onto his face. "Good morning, Mom."

For the next half hour, Michael sat politely on the sofa, pouring tea for Helen and her friend, answering their casual questions with a quiet grace. When the guest finally stood up to leave, she patted Helen’s hand fondly.

"You are so lucky, Helen," the friend praised, smiling at Michael. "Such a devoted son-in-law. Young men these days never spend time with their elders like this."

"Oh, Michael has always been the sweetest boy," Helen boasted proudly, her face lighting up with a warm glow.

Once the guest was gone and the house servants were dismissed to clean the kitchen, the warmth in the living room slowly faded. Michael stood up, walked over to the grand double doors, and closed them tightly.

Helen watched him, her smile wavering as she noticed the serious, almost mysterious look on his face. "Michael? Is something wrong, dear?"

Michael walked back to the sofa and sat down beside her. Before saying anything about the divorce, he looked at her with genuine concern.

"Mom... how have you been feeling lately?" Michael asked softly. "Have you been taking your blood pressure medication on time? Any chest tightness or heart palpitations?"

He knew older people were fragile, and Helen had a history of high blood pressure. He was terrified that the news he brought would send her into shock.

Helen let out a gentle chuckle, reaching out to pat his knee. "I'm completely fine, doctor's orders! My blood pressure has been perfectly stable all month. Stop worrying about an old woman. Now tell me, what's going on with you and Susan? You two haven't been fighting, have you?"

Michael closed his eyes, taking a deep, heavy breath to steady his shaking hands.

He reached into his inner coat pocket, pulled out the neatly folded paper containing the judicial paternity test results, and placed it gently on the glass coffee table right in front of her.

"Mom... You need you to look at this," Michael said softly.

Helen glanced down at the paper, sensing the sudden, suffocating shift in the air. Looking at Michael’s pale, tear-stained face, an uneasy, dreadful knot began to form in the pit of her stomach.