From Betrayal To Billions

CHAPTER 5

He sat dazed at the reception, staring at the space, his brain not registering anything apart from the fact that—

He wasn’t Liam’s father.

“Oh, Stella….” he mused inwardly, hugging himself tightly, as the DNA result burned in his hand. “Stella…what did I ever do to you?”

Six years ago, Stella gave birth to Liam, and as her husband, he had never been happier. Now, it’s clear to him, he had only been a glorified nanny with a good working conditions

How lucky.

He was so happy to be a father—to be Liam’s father.

But now, here he is, at this hospital—with a DNA test in his hand, a piece of paper that is saying that he wasn’t Liam’s father.

After all these years?

“Where is my son?!” Stella’s scream tore through the reception hall as she burst in, halting everyone in their activities. Morana and Ethan on her heels. “I am Liam’s mother. Where is he?”

“Miss,” the nurse at the reception replied calmly, glancing up from her paper work. “Please I will have to ask you to calm down, your son—”

“You dog!” Morana shrieked suddenly, jabbing a finger at Jace, who sat motionless in the corner, staring at Stella with hollow eyes. “What did you do to your son? You are such a careless father!…You had one job….just one job! Take good care of your son—and you have failed miserably!

Jace chuckled dryly as he stared at Stella and wondered how a human like her can be so evil. This wasn’t about social class anymore—this was pure, calculated evil.

He forced himself upright, legs shaking. God, give him strength. Then, waking gingerly up to Ethan, he said somberly, “From last week’s encounter, I’m guessing you are the father, right?”

Not waiting for a reply, he continued, “Liam swallowed a fish bone and needs surgery immediately. You have to go donate your blood—just in case they need it for the operation. After all, I am not his father.”

“My poor baby! Oh God.” Morana gasped and whirled to Ethan, eyes wide, “You heard him….go on.”

Ethan smirked at Jace and shook his head. Without breaking eye contact, he strode to Stella and planted a loud kiss on her cheek. “Later, fake dad,” he mocked, before disappearing down the corridor, leaving Jace gripping the chair hard enough to draw blood.

As soon as Ethan left, Jace cleared his throat loudly and asked numbly, expecting an obvious reply, “And Marie? Is she Ethan’s too?”

Stella scoffed and asked irritably, “Are you blind? Don’t you see the resemblance? Or you don’t know you are impotent?”

“I am not.”

“You are.” She hissed back.

Jace nodded sadly. Ofcourse, he had always known Liam and Marie looked nothing like him, but he had blamed his genetics—seeing as he was hopelessly in love with her. So he brushed it off and looked the other way.

Now it’s crystal clear how much of a fool he had been from the beginning. Seeing no reason to continue in this torture, he said bleakly;

“I want a divorce.”

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Hurt and broken, Jace stormed out of the hospital premises, too shattered to drive—fearing he might crash, since he couldn’t think clearly and needed to clear his head.

As Jace walked down the busy lane, Stella’s triumphant smile burned vividly in his memory. His laughter still rang in his ears.

“Think I enjoyed being married to scum like you?” She had spat viciously. “Jacey… you were just our entertainment. Now that the truth is out. You will leave with nothing!”

‘Stella….oh, Stella’ he murmured sadly, bumping repeatedly into pedestrians as he walked. As he bent down to help a lady pick up her purse—his corner eyes caught the activity of two black suited muscular men, stalking him and the hair on the back of his neck stood up, seeing that he might be followed and in danger.

To be certain, Jace took an alleyway—only to realize, to his dismay, that the men were still following him. Throwing caution to the wind, he decided to make a run for it, but was intercepted by an old dark-skinned man in a long black coat and a wide brimmed black hat, with his face covered with a face mask.

“Hello Jace” the old man’s said softly, with his leather gloved hands outstretched towards the hefty men, who stood silently behind him. “We meet again.”

Jace’s throat went dry as he glanced back at the stone faced men blocking his escape. When he turned to the old man, his voice came out croakily, “The Whitmans sent you to finish me? Get it over with.”

“Sent by who?” The old man asked with a crease on his forehead, then he removed his face mask and said calmly, “Hello Jace…we meet again.”

Jace squinted at the man in confusion, wondering where he had seen him before—his face was oddly familiar. But no matter how hard he thought, he still couldn’t place him. So he asked apprehensively;

“Who are you please?”

“My name is Mike Reynolds,” the man tipped his hat off to show his appearance fully. “…and I am your grandfather’s personal assistant. Remember me now?”

Jace stared at the old man as flashes of memories flooded his mind. Memories he had long buried and forgotten, tucked away by the grief of his father’s death since he was only six years old.

But here he was, staring at a figure from his past—an unwanted one.

With his voice now more steady, he asked coldly, “Hello Mr Reynolds. What does the CEO want?” Then he shook his head and added, “Do you know what? I don’t want to know….Have a good day.”

And made to leave, but was halted in his steps when the old man suddenly shouted …

“He is dying…he has only two days left. It’s his final wish to see you one last time. Please Jace, come home with me to see your grandfather before it’s too late.”