My Husband Spent 30M Pesos on His Mistress’s Ring—But One Line on a DNA Test Just Destroyed Them Both. 😱👇

One year after Adrian was stripped of his name and locked away, Villareal Prime Holdings was thriving under my solo leadership. The corporate world had forgotten the scandal, rebranding me as the ultimate self-made billionaire queen of Makati.

I was sitting in my newly renovated penthouse suite in BGC, looking out at the city skyline. The past was buried. Adrian was serving his 20-year sentence, and Bianca was rotting in a correctional facility. I had won.

Or so I thought.

My assistant entered the room, looking uncharacteristically pale. She held a sealed, yellowed medical envelope.

"Ma'am Lucia... this was just delivered by a private courier. It was recovered from the personal safe of the chief doctor at the Makati hospital—the one who performed the DNA test on Bianca’s baby. The doctor passed away last week, and his lawyers were instructed to send this to you upon his death."

My heart did a strange, cold flutter. I took the envelope, slicing it open. Inside was a handwritten confession from the doctor, along with an unedited, original laboratory report from the night of my anniversary.

My eyes scanned the doctor's confession first:

"Ms. dela Cruz, I took a 50-million-peso bribe to alter the final DNA report. I am writing this out of guilt before I die. The report you read in the hospital room was a forgery."

My hands began to shake. I quickly opened the second paper—the real, untampered DNA report. My eyes rushed to the conclusion line.

"Probability of Paternity for Julian Villareal: 0%. Probability of Paternity for Adrian Villareal: 99.99%."

The baby was Adrian’s.

Bianca hadn't lied about the paternity. The hotel footage of her with Julian on Valentine's Day was real, but it had been a calculated trap.

Suddenly, a cold realization washed over me. I hadn't orchestrated the DNA test. I had demanded a test, but the accelerated, forged results that destroyed Adrian’s sanity and forced him to attack Bianca in the rain—giving me the perfect legal leverage to strip him of his name and fortune—had been handed to us by the hospital.

If I didn't forge it... and Adrian didn't forge it... who did?

Attached to the back of the DNA report was a small sticky note written in elegant, familiar cursive handwriting. A handwriting I had seen on a hundred letters during my time as a caregiver.

It was the handwriting of Doña Elena Villareal. The note was dated a week before she died, three years ago.

"My dearest Lucia, if you are reading this, it means Adrian and Bianca have fallen into the trap. I knew my grandson was a weak, ungrateful fool who would betray you. I knew he would try to bypass my will. So, I paid the doctor in advance to forge any future paternity test regarding Adrian. I needed him to believe he was utterly ruined so he would destroy himself for what his parents did to your mother. I used Bianca’s greed to feed his paranoia. The empire is finally yours, my beautiful granddaughter. Wash your hands of the blood, because I already spilled it for you."

I dropped the papers onto the mahogany desk, a breathless laugh escaping my lips.

Doña Elena hadn't just left me a trust fund. She had planned the entire chess match from her deathbed three years ago. She knew Adrian would cheat, she knew Bianca would scheme, and she had set a time-bomb that exploded perfectly on my anniversary.

Adrian wasn't just a victim of my revenge. He was a victim of his own grandmother's absolute hatred.

I walked over to the glass window, looking down at the tiny cars crawling through the streets of Manila. A slow, dark smile crept onto my face.