Back then, the second Lady of the Elwin family, Sienna, was caught in a tangled web between the Derrick brothers. According to Robert’s knowledge, she wasn’t a fickle woman, but everything changed after she t Norman. Robert once overheard a heated argunt between Sienna and Derrick — she claid the child in her womb belonged to the lord. Yet, the very next mont, she was lying in bed with Norman.
Faced with Derrick’s growing suspicion, surveillance, and even house arrest, Sienna’s desperation to escape only grew. When Charles was two years old, she finally couldn’t endure the darkness any longer and boldly left with Norman.
At that ti, Derrick was almost in a state of living death, betrayed by his closest brother and the woman he loved. Blinded by hatred, he took possession of her son and concealed Charles’s true identity. The truth was, Allison died from complications giving birth to Philip. Philip inherited half of Allison’s French bloodline, making him a mixed-race child — which explained why he didn’t resemble Charles at all.
From a distance, Charles watched Derrick and Philip playing chess quietly in the living room — such a peaceful and harmonious scene of fatherly love and filial respect. Derrick had never looked at him with such a gentle gaze. All Derrick ever demanded was obedience and achievent.
That was the difference. He had always been an outsider.
"Charles, why are you back now?" Philip looked up and t Charles’s intense stare. When he noticed the wounds on Charles’s face and hands, he was shocked. "What happened to you?"
Derrick turned toward the sound, eting Charles’s desperate eyes filled with pain and even more despair.
"What’s going on?" Derrick stopped his moves, his expression darkening with displeasure. His sharp gaze pierced Charles. He’d always known Charles to be calm, but he had never seen him look at him like this — so unfamiliar.
"Who am I really the son of?" Charles felt no physical pain despite the dull ache in his chest. At this mont, all he wanted was a clear answer.
"What did you say?" Derrick’s heart skipped a beat, panic flashing in his eyes. Had Charles found out?
"Am I your son, or Norman’s? Is my mother Sienna?" Charles rushed out the questions. Although he’d always believed Allison was his mother, he’d considered Sienna as such too — perhaps because of that innate mother-son bond, those two years had forged an unbreakable tie.
"Charles, what nonsense are you talking about?" Philip was stunned, and when he glanced at Derrick with a darkening gaze, he understood sothing deeply unsettling — but it couldn’t be true!
"Is it true or not? Do I need a DNA test to prove it?" Charles stared at Derrick’s silence, already suspecting the truth he didn’t want to accept. It was absurd — the enemy he had sworn to kill was actually his own brother. The man he’d called "father" for twenty-eight years was truly his father’s murderer.
His life had beco one tragic joke.
"Janet told you? That bitch!" Derrick’s face twisted into a cruel sneer. He was just one step away—he hadn’t yet used August’s blood to avenge Philip’s lost legs, and now Charles knew the truth. For his entire life, Derrick had planned to keep this secret, letting Charles live as his son. Whether out of feelings for Sienna or for Charles himself, he wasn’t that cold-hearted.
Yes, he used Charles, driven by his own desires. But Charles’s extraordinary abilities had far exceeded his expectations. He could guard the Elwin family and Philip, and as long as Charles remained his son forever, Derrick didn’t care much more.
But then he froze at the hatred burning in Charles’s eyes. How could he forget? This son was born from the man he hated most—he carried the sa blood as Norman. That was a living sha.
"Yes, you’re Norman and Sienna’s bastard, and I raised you for twenty-eight years just to see this mont. I want you both to suffer for life. I want you brothers to tear each other apart. Ha! My plan has succeeded. You and him must hate now, right?"
Derrick’s maniacal laughter echoed through the empty mansion. Even Philip felt that this man, blinded by greed, was a terrifying demon. Ever since August returned to the country, Derrick had ticulously crafted a perfect trap, ensnaring them one by one. Watching them fight like tigers on a mountain, no matter who won or lost, Derrick would be the last to laugh.
"You’re crazy. How could Charles be our uncle’s son? Charles, you’re my brother—always!" Philip tried to approach Charles in his wheelchair but was pushed back two steps.
No more. No matter how much Philip cared for him, he was no longer his brother. The father Philip had once been willing to protect with his life was now the cruel irony of Charles’s fate. He even thought about staining his own hands with August’s blood—that was the real brother.
"All the suffering August has endured is because of you. His fate is your doing. How does that feel? Norman wouldn’t rest in peace now—both his sons are failures!"
Derrick laughed bitterly, but it was hollow and weak. Why, looking at Charles’s pain, did he no longer feel the thrill of revenge? He’d been waiting for this day.
Now Charles must hate him deeply. Just like Derrick, Charles was fiercely competitive. He had deceived him for twenty-eight years, and today’s outco was exactly what he expected.
"So that’s your plan? To make suffer for life? Well, let tell you, I won’t let you succeed, and I won’t let you lay a finger on August anymore!" The fierce, almost feral aura radiating from Charles made Derrick flinch and slump back onto the sofa, a trace of fear flickering in his eyes. When Charles was still his son, he could control him — but now, he was no longer his son. He was his enemy.
Charles recalled everything August had endured, all because of Derrick’s doing. Fortunately, he had never truly hard August. If Janet hadn’t stopped him in ti, Charles was confident he could have crippled August. If that had happened, August would have lived with guilt forever — just as Derrick wished. He had taken his revenge on everyone. He had succeeded.
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