295. Is He My Papa?!
last update2026-02-22 04:08:31

While Elena and her family’s suspicion still lingered, Alyana was already back home, her anger spilling into every corner of the house.

The moment the door shut behind her, she paced the living room, her heels striking sharply against the tiled floor. The events at the party replayed in her mind—every stare, every whisper, every humiliating second. Her jaw tightened.

But when she noticed Oscar watching her from the hallway, wide-eyed and silent, she forced herself to breathe.

She couldn’t let h
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  • 297. Strategically!

    Hearing her mother’s question, Alyana lifted her chin and nodded.“Yes,” she said firmly. “That’s exactly what I plan on doing. Do you have a problem with that? Or is there something wrong with it?”Her mother let out a sharp breath, eyes blazing. “Of course there is!” she snapped, rising from her seat. She paced the room before turning back to Alyana. “The moment he finds out that Oscar is his child, he will fight for custody. And don’t deceive yourself into thinking he won’t win. He already won long before any hearing even begins!”Alyana’s lips parted, but no words came out. She simply lowered her gaze.Her mother stepped closer, her voice dropping but no less intense. “I thought we agreed,” she said, pointing a trembling finger at her daughter. “We were going to use Oscar against him. Use the boy to get back everything we deserve. That was the plan. It was understood.” She shook her head in disbelief. “So why are you trying to twist everything against us now?”Silence stretched be

  • 296. What Is Your Plan?

    Alyana froze at the hearing of what her son had asked her. Of all the possibilities she had imagined, this was the one she least expected. The name alone carried a weight she never wanted to acknowledge, much less hear spoken so casually by her child.Her chest tightened.That answer—that truth—was something she had prayed would never become a reality.Even with anger flashing briefly across her face, she forced herself to remain calm. She reached out, gripping Oscar’s small shoulders firmly, grounding both of them.“No, my dear,” Alyana said, her voice sharp but controlled. She shook her head once for emphasis. “He is not your Papa.”Oscar blinked, startled by the sudden firmness in her tone.Alyana softened immediately, pulling him into her arms as though shielding him from the very thought she was trying so desperately to bury.Alyana forced a smile, hoping that would end the conversation.But Oscar shook his head stubbornly, curls bouncing.“If he’s not my Papa,” he said earnestl

  • 295. Is He My Papa?!

    While Elena and her family’s suspicion still lingered, Alyana was already back home, her anger spilling into every corner of the house.The moment the door shut behind her, she paced the living room, her heels striking sharply against the tiled floor. The events at the party replayed in her mind—every stare, every whisper, every humiliating second. Her jaw tightened.But when she noticed Oscar watching her from the hallway, wide-eyed and silent, she forced herself to breathe.She couldn’t let him see this side of her. Not the frustration. Not the cracks.Turning to him, she softened her expression and walked over, brushing invisible lint from his shirt just to keep her hands busy.“Get some rest, my dear,” she said gently, smoothing his hair. “Mommy needs to think carefully about something, okay?”Oscar nodded, but the confusion in his eyes didn’t fade.He had questions—so many of them. The tension in the hall earlier had unsettled him. The way people looked at his mother. The strange

  • 294. Let's Get The Plan Started!

    Elena froze, shocked at her mother’s sudden outburst. Her chest heaved; she could barely catch her breath, desperate to break free from Rita’s tight grip.“What’s gotten into you, Mother?” Elena gasped, struggling against her mother’s hold.Rita’s eyes widened, her tone laced with drama. “What are you saying, Lena? Don’t you understand that walls have ears? What you just said… it could get you arrested—or worse. Especially now that Franco doesn’t love you anymore!”Elena recoiled, her voice trembling. “But what did I say wrong? I was only stating my own opinion—that Franco could be the father of the child. It’s nothing but my own line!”Rita tightened her grip briefly, her face pale with urgency. “And that opinion of yours can get you into serious trouble!” she said sharply. “Franco is a highly influential figure now. He can do anything, however he wants. Do you really think he’ll let something like this slide when you’re making such a huge allegation without any evidence?”Elena’s ha

  • 293. Suspects Arising!

    Of course, Franco didn’t know how to respond to Muna’s question.No matter how he felt about it, he had no choice but to do as she instructed.“OKAY! Tomorrow then!” he finally said, his voice firm, though his mind was still swirling with uncertainty.The car drove straight to the Scott mansion. As Franco sat silently, thinking about how to handle the upcoming meeting with Oscar and his mother, Alyana, Elena’s conscience gnawed at her relentlessly.Humiliation had struck her in its purest form that day, leaving a bitter taste she couldn’t ignore. Yet, there were more pressing matters she had to consider, matters her mother insisted she shouldn’t dwell on.Even so, Elena’s thoughts kept returning to that other part—the part her mother wanted her to ignore, the part that refused to stay buried.What really consumed them was the fact that they had been humiliated today.The moment they arrived home, Rita threw her bag onto the couch and ran her hands through her hair in frustration.“The

  • 292. Be His Dad!

    Immediately after Alyana left, Franco didn’t waste a second before turning to leave as well.As he walked out, Muna hurried after him while the crowd pressed forward, their voices rising in desperate pleas.“My blood! Bless me!”“Place your hands on me, My Lord!”“My Lord, please, lay your hand on me!”Some stretched their hands as far as they could, trying to touch even the edge of his clothes, believing their faith alone would bring them blessings or lengthen their lives. Ironically, the very people who had once mocked Franco were now the same ones struggling the hardest to reach him.Franco remained composed, his expression steady, though a quiet annoyance flickered beneath the surface.When he reached his car, he paused and waited for Muna to catch up before driving off. The moment she stepped inside, he reached out and gently held her hand.“I am sorry, Muna,” Franco said softly, his voice low with sincerity. “I am so sorry.”Muna blinked, clearly surprised. She let out a small s

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