When the true heir returned, I was already married with twins. Yet everyone despised me, showering all their love on him. "You were never meant to be the Hawthorne heir—just a fraud." "We don’t want you! We want Uncle Jerry—strong, not weak like you!" "Son, you’ve stolen Jerry’s place long enough. Give it back." So I divorced Eleanor Vance and left even my children behind. Later, I ran an orphanage, raising dozens who became brilliant successes—CEOs, surgeons, luminaries. They begged to care for me in old age, but I stayed, sweeping leaves at the gate. Then my daughter Scarlett appeared, nose wrinkled in disgust. "Look at you—pathetic. No wonder it stinks here." "Grandma only sent me because of Art’s engagement. Otherwise, you’d never see us again." ... 1 Scarlett Vance stared at me, her eyes fixed on my face as if searching for a flicker of remorse or regret. But I disappointed her. Far from weeping and begging for forgiveness, I merely raised an eyebrow in confusion. "The CEO of Stone Corporation's daughter is getting married? How could I not know?" The daughter of the Stone Corporation's CEO was Seraphina Stone, wasn't she? She and I had just had tea yesterday; she didn't seem like a woman on the verge of getting married. Moreover, for such a significant life event, how could she possibly not inform me, her father? I looked at Scarlett, genuine concern creasing my brow. "Is your brother being conned?" My concern, however, was misinterpreted by Scarlett as suspicion. She quickly sneered, "Don't bother pretending. I know you don't actually know the Stone Corporation heiress. You're only saying that because you've always been jealous of Dad, jealous that after you left us, our family of four has only thrived." The "Dad" she referred to was clearly not me, but Jerry Hawthorne, the true heir. "Grandma fell seriously ill this year and kept talking about you. She asked me to bring you back, and incidentally, for Art's engagement party." Scarlett's voice sharpened, her eyes flashing with a familiar indignation. "But only Mom and Dad will be allowed on stage. A man who abandoned his wife and children like you shouldn't even dream of it." Her eyes were crimson, her chest heaving with barely suppressed fury. I mused for a moment, the memories of my mother's kindness when I was a child vivid in my mind. Even after our estrangement, she had always secretly sent me money. Now that she was ill, it was only right that I returned to see her. Besides, I needed to personally get to the bottom of Seraphina Stone's supposed engagement. Seeing me nod in agreement, a flicker of something, barely discernible, crossed Scarlett's face—disgust. "Figures," she muttered. "All these years, and you're still the same vain, materialistic woman." "But the more one chases something," she added, her voice laced with venom, "the less they'll ever get it." I simply curved my lips into a slight smile. "That sentiment, Scarlett, I send right back to you, undiminished." Scarlett choked, her face flushing crimson with anger. That puffed-up, seething expression, I realized, had never truly changed. Back when the true heir returned, my wife, Eleanor, began spending frequent nights away from home. Coincidentally, our five-year-old daughter, Scarlett, developed a fever. Eleanor, however, stubbornly insisted I was using the child to gain favor, and locked us, father and children, inside the villa. Feeling Scarlett's body grow hotter and hotter, I hardened my heart. I jumped from the third-floor balcony, scrambling to a neighbor's house to call an ambulance, saving Scarlett's life. When Eleanor finally arrived, belatedly, I slapped her hard. But before the storm of my suppressed emotions could truly break, my daughter, just awake in her hospital bed, uttered her first words: "Mommy, I wasn't sick. Daddy gave me a cold bath on purpose to make me feverish. He just wanted to use me to get you back from Uncle Jerry." That day, Eleanor slapped me a dozen times, but the searing pain on my face was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. How could my daughter, whom I had raised and meticulously cared for, become like this? Because of that incident, my parents disowned me. Jerry, feigning dejection before my parents, hypocritically rebuked me. "Brother, if you hate me, I'll leave. But you shouldn't, you shouldn't hurt your own child. Scarlett is only five; she's at a crucial stage of development. If anything serious happened, wouldn't you, as her biological father, be heartbroken?" It was precisely because I was her biological father that my heart felt so utterly cold, so completely devoid of hope. Now, looking at the hostile Scarlett, I curved my lips into a gentle smile. "Let's go. The sooner we leave, the sooner I can return to sweeping and tending to the orphanage." 2 Scarlett immediately got into the driver's seat of her Mercedes. As I reached for the passenger door, she pulled out a cloth. "Put this down," she instructed, her voice flat. "Don't get my car dirty." I raised an eyebrow in surprise. What could possibly soil her "Mercedes"? It was just an overpriced car. During the drive, Scarlett remained stone-faced and silent. I had no desire to speak with her either, so I opened our family group chat and sent a message: "I'm heading to Westbrook to visit your Grandma. I'll need you all to manage the orphanage in my absence." Immediately, a flurry of "Understood, Dad!" messages flooded the chat. Seraphina Stone hadn't replied, but then I remembered she was on a flight to a UN conference today. She must be airborne. A faint smile touched my lips. Over the years, the first group of children from the orphanage had grown up, becoming pillars of society. Yet, they genuinely regarded me as their father, loving and respecting me deeply. The car soon pulled up to Vance Manor. Servants were arranging fresh flowers at the entrance, and a steady stream of luxury cars arrived and departed. The moment I stepped inside, I saw Jerry. Nearly two decades had passed, but his demeanor was a stark contrast to the timid, cowering man I first met. Today, he wore a black turtleneck beneath a perfectly tailored suit, exuding an air of understated nobility and impeccable taste. His eyes lit up when he saw me, yet his welcome was as insincere as ever. Despite his obvious dislike, he immediately walked over to me. "Brother, you've finally decided to come back," he said, and then, feigning tears, he added, "Mother was so gravely ill before, and you never returned. She almost..." He trailed off, wiping a non-existent tear. "But thankfully, you decided to come back for Art and Miss Stone's engagement party today." A flicker of calculation, barely perceptible, crossed his eyes. The surrounding guests immediately erupted in whispers. "Is that the man who cheated and abandoned his own children?" "How dare he show his face here? He must have heard his son is marrying into the Stone Corporation and now he's shamelessly trying to worm his way back in." The murmurs were far from kind, and Jerry smirked, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. Scarlett, who had entered with me, was clearly displeased. She shoved me aside, striding towards Jerry to declare her loyalty. "Dad, don't worry. You're the only father I'll ever have. I'll never acknowledge some ambiguous person as my dad." "Good girl..." Jerry glanced at me, a smug expression on his face. I had no interest in their charade and interrupted them directly. "I came back to see my mother. Where is she?" Scarlett scoffed. "I see you know you don't fit in with Dad and me, so you're trying to find an excuse. But do you really think Grandma will give you a warm welcome?" Before she could finish, I saw my mother, seated in a wheelchair. Upon seeing me, her eyes reddened, threatening to spill tears. I hadn't returned to see her all these years, not because I didn't want to, but because she had always refused, citing Jerry's displeasure. She felt pity for the "true heir" who had supposedly suffered for nearly thirty years outside, and consequently, grew increasingly distant from me. But she had forgotten. When our company was just starting, and we couldn't recruit anyone, it was I who drank myself sick night after night to secure deals. As the company slowly gained traction, my health steadily deteriorated. My father then used the excuse of "letting me recuperate" to force me out of the company. Simply because Jerry had returned. My bedroom was demanded for Jerry, the position of company general manager was to be relinquished to Jerry, and finally, my parents and children even begged me to hand Eleanor over to Jerry. "William Thorne, you've already had so much in the first half of your life. It's time to return it all to Jerry." "Daddy, you're bad. You're stealing Uncle Jerry's things. Mommy clearly prefers Uncle Jerry." Every single person I held dear had, at one point, unequivocally stood by Jerry. Until Jerry looked at me, a challenging glint in his eyes: "Brother, your wife is pregnant with my child. What do you say we do?" 3 Suddenly, he dropped to his knees before me, weeping uncontrollably. "I beg you! I don't want to ruin your family. I just… can you please be merciful and let Eleanor keep my baby?" When my parents and Eleanor entered the room, they found Jerry on his knees, acting subservient and pleading with me. As I merely lifted my hand, Jerry dramatically tumbled down the stairs. Eleanor, without a moment's thought, rushed to him, tripped over something, and also fell down the staircase, blood staining the plush carpet. My parents' faces immediately contorted in horror. Jerry, limping, scooped up my wife and rushed her to the hospital. My two children stood at the doorway, arms outstretched, glaring at me like protective sentinels. My father raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. "I don't have a son as malicious as you." "You've monopolized your brother's wealth and glory for over twenty years, and now you're trying to kill him? That was a life you threatened!" I clutched my stinging, swollen cheek, saying nothing. I simply packed my bags and left my family, with whom I had spent decades. That cold winter night, as snow fell heavily, I, dragging a small suitcase, unknowingly found myself at the gates of an orphanage. And so, I found a new home. I invested every penny from my divorce settlement into the orphanage. Later, while foraging for herbs in the mountains, I found and rescued an unconscious Seraphina Stone. It was only months later, when the CEO of Stone Corporation arrived at the orphanage, that I realized she was the kidnapped heiress who had gone missing. During her time with us, Seraphina developed a deep affection for me, calling me "Dad" like all the other children. Her mother, whose husband had passed away young, had always felt she hadn't been there enough for her daughter. Seeing her daughter finally connecting with someone, she let Seraphina continue calling me Dad. Later, in the deepest part of an alley, I rescued a dying Ethan Reed from a dumpster. I gave him a new name, supported his education, and to my surprise, he turned out to be a genius. He skipped grades, becoming the youngest Traditional Medicine Professor. And there were countless other orphans I pulled from the mire. Thinking of them, a soft smile unconsciously spread across my lips. My mother clasped my hand, repeating several times, "It's good you're back. It's good you're back." "Your father, before he passed, he actually spoke of you too, but..." Just then, my son, Arthur Vance, and Eleanor walked in, laughing and chatting. Their expressions immediately soured when they saw me. "What are you doing here?" I looked at the tall, handsome Arthur, a dark, melancholic shade clouding my eyes. It seemed the kidney I had donated to him was serving him well. When Arthur was just six years old, he was suddenly diagnosed with kidney failure. The family business was at a low point then, and everyone wanted to give up on his treatment. It was I who stubbornly insisted, borrowing money from everywhere. And after a successful match, I donated my kidney to Arthur. Lying in that hospital bed back then, I never could have imagined that the son I cherished so deeply would one day disdain me as a "sickly wretch." He had hidden behind Jerry, his eyes filled with revulsion. "I don't want you. I want Uncle Jerry." The disapproving face of young Arthur slowly overlapped with the hatred in his eyes now. "Who allowed you to come? How dare a wicked man who abandoned his wife and children return to claim credit?" "I bet you heard I'm marrying the CEO of Stone Corporation's daughter and you want to leech off us. Let me tell you, don't even think about it!" Arthur's barrage of words gave the guests plenty of gossip to chew on. "Is that the fake heir who usurped his place back then?" "If I were him, I wouldn't even have the face to come back." Arthur ignored the whispers, intimately embracing Jerry. "Dad, today, I promise no one will steal your thunder." He looked at me with a malevolent glint in his eye. And my mother, at this moment, remained utterly silent. A cold chuckle escaped my lips. She was always like this: between Jerry and me, she would always choose Jerry without hesitation. Seeing the atmosphere turn awkward, my ex-wife stepped in, attempting to smooth things over. "Alright, alright, it's a joyous day. Since you're here, why don't you have a seat?" Eleanor pointed to a very secluded table, one occupied entirely by photographers and other staff. "Such a fancy banquet, you probably want to pack up leftovers. How embarrassing," Arthur sneered. Just as I was about to walk over, the main doors swung open. "The Stone Corporation heiress has arrived!" The familiar roar of a Lamborghini engine echoed through the hall.
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