The Ruthless Billionaire

Chapter 5

Madam President's thoughts began to swirl. The name, the date mirrored something she had been desperately trying to forget for years.

Could it be? Could this man be her missing son, the child she had lost all those years ago? The child who had vanished from her life without a trace, leaving her in a perpetual state of heartache and confusion. The thought made her stomach churn.

"Oliver Donovan..." She repeated the name quietly, almost as if testing it out, seeing if it would feel different when spoken aloud. It didn’t. It only made her more desperate for answers.

She stood by Oliver’s bed, staring at his pale face. His features, once handsome and full of life, now seemed drained, as though the fight had been knocked out of him.

His breathing was shallow, and he lay there unconscious, but something about him felt... familiar.

“Doctor,” she said, her voice tight, “do everything you can to save him. I need him to pull through.”

The doctor, who was working on Oliver, looked up with a serious expression. “We’re doing all we can, Madam President. He’s lost a lot of blood, but he’s stable for now. With the right care, he should make it.”

Madam President nodded, but her thoughts were elsewhere, swirling with confusion and doubt. She couldn’t stop looking at him, something about his face pulling at her heart.

She walked around the room, trying to make sense of it all, her mind racing. Could this be him? Could this man really be her son, the one she had lost so many years ago?

The thought wouldn’t leave her. The more she thought about it, the more it felt like it had to be true. But she couldn’t just believe it without knowing for sure. She had to be certain.

She stopped pacing, her mind made up. “Doctor,” she said firmly, turning to him, “I need a paternity test done. Right away. I have to know if he’s my son.”

The doctor looked at Madam President with concern as she stood firmly by Oliver’s side, her gaze never leaving his unconscious form.

“Madam President,” he began gently, “I understand your urgency, but we have to be cautious. The paternity test, while important, can have serious implications for his recovery. Right now, his body is weak, and putting him through a procedure like this could cause further strain. He’s not fully stabilized yet.”

Madam President shook her head, her eyes narrowing with determination. “I understand the risks, Doctor. But I need to know the truth. I cannot wait any longer.”

The doctor hesitated, then continued, “The test results won’t be immediate. It could take several hours before we know anything for sure, and I’m not sure it’s wise to put him through this right now when his body is still vulnerable. His condition could worsen, and we’d lose precious time.”

Madam President’s face hardened, but her voice remained calm and resolute. “I don’t care how long it takes, Doctor. I need to know, and I will wait. If there is any chance that this man is my son, I will not leave here until I know for sure.”

She stepped closer to Oliver’s bed, her voice softening slightly as she looked down at him. “Whatever it costs, whatever the risk, I’m willing to take it. I have to do this. He deserves to know who he is.”

The doctor paused, looking between Madam President and Oliver’s frail body. He could see the weight of her words—the urgency in her eyes, the pain in her voice.

“If you’re absolutely certain, Madam President, then we will proceed. But I strongly advise caution. His body is still recovering, and we don’t want to push him too hard.”

Madam President’s jaw clenched, her decision final. “Do it, Doctor. I’ll take full responsibility for whatever happens. Just make sure we get the test done. Now.”

The doctor, still taken aback by Madam President’s unwavering determination, paused for a moment before finally nodding.

“Alright, Madam President. We’ll do it. We’ll take the necessary precautions and proceed with the test.”

After that, the medical team took Oliver’s blood samples and worked quickly to ensure his condition remained stable.

Hours passed, and finally, Oliver’s body stirred. He slowly blinked his eyes open, the bright hospital lights blurring his vision for a moment.

The sterile smell of the hospital hit him, and the unfamiliar sounds made him furrow his brow. His heart raced with confusion. He was lying in a bed, but where was he? What had happened?

“Where... where am I?” he muttered weakly, his voice hoarse.

Just as he tried to push himself up, the doctor entered, his face showing relief. “You’re in a hospital, Mr. Oliver. You’ve been unconscious for a while. You were severely injured, but we’ve stabilized you. You’re going to be okay.”

Oliver blinked, trying to process what the doctor was saying. He looked around, his mind still in a fog. “But... what happened? How did I end up here?”

The doctor quickly explained everything to him, recounting how Oliver had been found barely alive, beaten and bloodied, on the street, and how Madam President had ensured he got the medical attention he needed.

As the doctor spoke, Oliver’s gaze flicked to Madam President standing nearby, her eyes filled with concern but also something else—something he couldn’t quite place.

Before Oliver could ask more questions, a nurse entered the room with a file in hand. She walked over to the doctor, handing him the file with a soft smile. The doctor took it, then turned to Madam President, holding the file with a mix of pride and warmth.

“Madam President,” the doctor said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of his words. “I have the result of the paternity test. Congratulations... he’s your biological son.”

Oliver froze, his heart skipped a beat, and his eyes widened in disbelief. He looked between the doctor and Madam President, unable to comprehend what he had just heard. The words felt like they hung in the air, heavy and surreal.

“What... What do you mean?” Oliver’s voice trembled. He couldn’t understand. Was this a joke?

Madam President’s expression softened, her eyes searching his face with a look of something deep and unspoken.

She stepped closer, but Oliver felt his head spinning, the room closing in around him. His body ached, but the emotional shock of the moment was far worse than any physical pain.

“You’re my son, Oliver,” she said softly, her voice breaking slightly as she spoke the words. “You’ve been missing for years. And I’ve been looking for you.”