📜 CHAPTER 3: The Ultimate Destruction (The Plot Twist)
Back at the private hospital, the atmosphere was suffocating.
Bianca was trembling in her bed, her face a ghostly white. Julian, Adrian’s brother, was now standing in the corner, looking sweating and defensive. Adrian stood in the center of the room, looking like a ticking time bomb.
The doctor walked in, holding a sealed white envelope.
"The accelerated DNA results are here," the doctor announced.
Adrian snatched the envelope, his hands shaking. He ripped it open, his eyes scanning the medical jargon until they landed on the final conclusion line.
Suddenly, Adrian stopped breathing. The paper slipped from his fingers, fluttering to the floor.
Bianca scrambled forward. "Adrian? Baby, tell me it's yours! It's yours, right? Julian forced himself on me that one night, I swear! The baby is yours!"
Julian laughed bitterly from the corner. "Oh, cut the crap, Bianca. You told me the kid was mine so I’d funnel money from the family offshore accounts to you!"
Adrian looked up, his eyes completely hollow. He looked at Bianca with a disgust so deep it made her flinch.
Why? Because the line on the DNA report didn't name Julian as the father either.
I leaned down, picked up the paper, and read it out loud for the room to hear: "Probability of Paternity for Adrian Villareal: 0%. Probability of Paternity for Julian Villareal: 0%."
The room went completely paralyzed. Bianca choked on her own breath. She had been sleeping with a third, unknown man, playing both billionaire brothers against each other to secure her future. She had destroyed her own lie.
Adrian turned to me, his voice cracking, desperate, and utterly broken. "Lucia... please. I was blind. I was a fool. They tricked me. Doña Elena’s will states that if we divorce, I lose 60% of the company shares to you. Please, don't do this. I'll make it up to you. We can start over."
I looked at this man who had humiliated me for three years. I looked at the "best friend" who had stolen my peace.
I took out my pen, signed my name beautifully on the divorce papers, and tossed them onto Adrian's lap.
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"I don't need to start over with you, Adrian," I smiled, stepping toward the door. "Oh, and by the way? Doña Elena knew about your affair a month before she passed. That's why she left the San Juan ancestral house and the remaining 40% of the shares directly to me in a private trust. You don't just lose 60% today, Adrian. You lose everything."
I turned my back on their screams, walked out into the warm Makati sun, and for the first time in three years, I breathed in the sweet, beautiful scent of freedom.
