Three days after the hospital told me my newborn son was dead, I gathered my family to name my younger brother as heir to everything I owned. Before I could sign the papers, the maid’s eight-year-old daughter walked into the room carrying a crying baby—and the number on his hospital bracelet matched the child I had supposedly buried.

By midnight, the Moretti estate was under total siege—not from outside enemies, but from within. I had brought in Dr. Evans, a private physician who owed his life and career to my family, along with a trusted pediatrician. They set up a temporary nursery inside my private quarters, examining my son under guard.

“He’s dehydrated and slightly hypothermic, Julian,” Dr. Evans reported, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “But miraculously, he has no lung infections or structural damage. He’s a fighter. In a few days, he’ll be completely healthy.”

“Thank you, Arthur,” I said, looking through the glass panel at the baby sleeping soundly in a heated bassinet. “I need a full toxicology report and a DNA test. Fast. Keep it entirely off the hospital networks.”

“Consider it done.”

Once Dr. Evans left, I descended into the subterranean level of the mansion. The old cellars had been reinforced decades ago with reinforced steel doors and soundproof walls.

I walked into the room where Valentina was held first.

She sat on a plain wooden chair, her expensive silk dress ruined, her hair disheveled. The arrogance that usually defined her posture was gone, replaced by frantic nervousness.

I placed a leather folder on the metal table between us and sat down.

“Let’s skip the tears, Valentina,” I said flatly. “The DNA results will take twelve hours. But I don’t need a lab test to know you lied to me.”

“Julian, please,” she whimpered, reaching across the table to touch my hand. I pulled back instantly. “I didn't know the baby was alive! I swear it! Matteo told me... he told me the baby died during delivery because of complications! He said he paid the doctors to spare you the pain of seeing a deformed body!”

“And the bracelet?” I pulled out a high-resolution printout of the second wristband. “Why did the maid find a bracelet with your name linked to Lucia Vance’s death record from twelve years ago?”

Valentina closed her eyes tightly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Because... because I’m not who you think I am.”

The cold confession hung in the air.

“Go on,” I said softly.

“Twelve years ago, when Lucia Vance died at St. Helena, she didn't die in an accident,” Valentina whispered, her voice barely audible. “She was brought in under my mother’s name to cover up a illegal organ transfer operation run by the hospital's head surgeon, Dr. Mercer. Matteo discovered it years later. He used that secret to blackmail the hospital staff into doing whatever he wanted.”

“And you?”

“I was Dr. Mercer’s stepdaughter,” she confessed, looking up with eyes full of terror. “My real name isn’t Valentina Ross. The real Valentina died in that hospital twelve years ago. Matteo helped my stepfather hide her death, and in return, he forced me to assume her identity so he could marry me into the Moretti family when the time was right!”

I stared at the woman sitting across from me. The marriage that had seemed like a union between two powerful families four years ago had been nothing more than a carefully crafted chess move staged by my half-brother.

“So you were never a noble heiress,” I said, the bitter reality settling in. “You were just a proxy planted in my bed to secure my empire.”

“I didn't want to hurt the baby, Julian!” she sobbed, falling to her knees beside my chair. “Matteo said the baby would be sent to an adoption ring in South America! He promised me he wouldn't kill him! He told me if I didn't help him fake the birth record, he’d expose my real identity and have me put in prison for fraud!”

“Where is Dr. Mercer now?” I asked calmly.

“He’s... he’s still at St. Helena,” she stammered. “He signed the death certificate. He’s the one who gave the baby to Matteo’s men.”

I stood up, stepping away from her as she tried to grab my trousers.

“You traded my son’s life for your own comfort,” I said. “You sat beside me at a funeral for a child you knew was discarded in a trash bag.”

“Julian! Forgive me!”

“Lorenzo,” I called out as I walked toward the door. “Keep her locked in. Feed her water and bread. Nothing else.”

I left her screaming my name and walked straight to the adjacent cell where Matteo was waiting.

Unlike Valentina, Matteo wasn't crying. He sat back in his chair with a smirk playing on his lips, though his knuckles were white as he gripped the armrests.

“Saved by a maid’s kid,” Matteo chuckled darkly as I entered. “Fate really has a sick sense of humor, doesn't it, big brother?”

“You have five minutes to tell me who else was involved,” I said, resting my hands on the back of a chair. “Before I hand you over to Lorenzo’s team.”

Matteo laughed, a cold, mocking sound. “You think you’ve won, Julian? You think this ends because you found the bastard? Look around you! Half the Syndicate captains were in that room today. They saw you ready to hand over the keys. They know you’re weak, broken by grief!”

“They saw a father who thought his son was dead,” I replied. “Now they will see a father who knows his brother is a snake.”

“I am a Moretti!” Matteo snarled, slamming his fist on the table. “Father gave you everything—the shipping lines, the casinos, the loyalty of the captains—just because your mother had a ring on her finger! My mother died in poverty while yours lived in luxury!”

“Your mother died because Dr. Mercer harvested her organs with your knowledge!” I countered, leaning down until my face was inches from his. “You sold out your own mother’s memory twelve years ago to gain leverage over a corrupt surgeon. You aren't an avenger, Matteo. You’re just a parasite.”

The smirk wiped clean from Matteo’s face. He lunged forward, but the chains around his ankles snapped tight, throwing him back into his chair.

“You won't get away with this, Julian,” Matteo hissed, his eyes bloodshot. “Don Carmine’s men are already moving on the docks. They know the transition was supposed to happen today. By morning, half your territory will be gone!”