Chapter 360/Shattered Truths
Chapter 360
Thomas’ point of view
Harold struck his forehead with his palm in genuine despair and helplessness before her stubbornness:
"Has the madness that struck Father’s head struck you as well, and you are allying against me?! This is madness!"
She fixed her sharp gaze on her husband and said in a decisive, final tone:
"Do you not want to become a father, for hell’s sake, and stop feeling incomplete? Do you not want us to have a small child to fill our cold life?!"
Harold shot back in anger with a booming voice:
"But he is not our real child, Miley!"
She shouted in his face with finality and insistence to end this futile debate between them:
"You heard your father’s decision and finality yourself, and he is the master of this house... He is my child from now on, so get used to this fact without numerous objections!"
Miley then turned toward me with eyes overflowing with tears and intense gratitude, asking me softly as she cradled the little one:
"What is the name you want to bestow upon him, Father?"
I took a deep breath and said with steadiness and a booming voice:
"I have named him Adam. Today, specifically, all his official papers, medical records, and certificates will be registered in the government and civil departments as the legitimate son of you and Harold in a complete, legally airtight manner. And it will remain a secret."
Harold took a desperate step toward me with helpless pleading, crying out in pain and a broken tone:
"Father... please, stop this madness!"
I looked at him with chilling coldness and the stillness of a rock, then turned toward his wife and said:
"Miley... take the child and go out. Leave us alone for some time to settle matters."
Miley nodded her head quickly, retreating with hurried steps while carrying the infant Adam carefully in her hands. The signs of her overwhelming happiness with her sudden, new motherhood were truly indescribable; she had acquired her precious prize.
The moment the massive door clicked shut behind her with a powerful sound that echoed in the hall, Harold advanced toward me with an impulsive aggression. He stood over my head with tight, fully flushed features and eyes flashing with malice, asking:
"And now that the place is empty... Father, can you explain to me in detail what this madness is?! Where did you get this infant, and what the hell is his story?! I want the entire truth!"
I slowly exhaled the smoke from my cigarette, casting a stone-cold look entirely devoid of sympathy at him, and spoke in a dry tone that delivered a direct blow to his manhood: **"You cannot have children, Harold. Your wife, Miley, is perfectly healthy and capable, but you are the impotent one here. Aren’t you glad you obtained a son who bears your name so effortlessly?"**
The features of his face contorted with pain and humiliation. He took a step back as if my words were a whip lashing him, and spoke in a choked voice thick with resentment: **"Father... please, there is no need to slap me with this harsh truth every single time you meet me! I already know full well that I am the sterile man in this family, and I do not need you to constantly remind me of it."**
I leaned my back comfortably against the sofa with pure detachment, asking him with finality: **"Then, as long as you know your reality, why do you object so vehemently to what I have done?"**
He ran his palm over his hair with absolute helplessness and shouted with wild irritation: **"I have previously proposed to you the idea of legally adopting a child from an orphanage, and back then, you stood against me aggressively, telling me that you didn’t want a strange child of unknown lineage to inherit your empire and influence at any cost!"**
I nodded my head in strict affirmation: **"Yes, I said that before, and I still stand by my words. I do not want a child of unknown roots to lay his filthy hands on my assets and lead my empire after my death."**
His eyes widened in confusion and bewilderment, and he asked without comprehension: **"What the hell changed between then and today?!"**
I fixed my sharp gaze right on his pupils, speaking in a confident, proud tone: **"Nothing changed. That small infant is my real grandson, unequivocally of my own flesh and blood."**
His entire expression shattered. He advanced toward me with shaky, unstable steps and spoke in a lost tone: **"Father... please, for heaven’s sake, what are you saying now?! I no longer understand a thing!"**
I tossed the cigarette butt into the ashtray, uttering my words in a deliberate, decisive manner: **"That small infant... is my son Robert’s child."**
Every trace of anger vanished from his face, replaced by a violent shock that completely paralyzed his movement. He retreated on heavy feet, murmuring in utter disbelief: **"What?!"**
I followed up with absolute coldness: **"Yes. He is indeed his son and from his loins, and you will raise him yourself as your legitimate son, without a single living soul in this world ever knowing this damned secret. Even your brother Robert himself must not catch a single hint of suspicion regarding the matter."**
Harold shouted, his breath catching from the sheer magnitude of the shock: **"You are truly insane, Father! How can your mind expect me to raise my nephew in secret and hide his truth from everyone so easily?!"**
I flicked my hand dismissively, saying: **"Because Robert simply doesn’t want him at all. He previously demanded that the girl pregnant with his child abort the fetus and get rid of it as quickly as possible, but in her stubbornness, she didn’t do it and hid him from him."**
He asked mapping the situation, swallowing his saliva: **"And his real mother... where the hell is she now?"**
I twisted my lips in faked sorrow, saying dryly: **"Regrettably, that girl died during childbirth at the hospital."**
His brows knit in rejection, and he continued disapprovingly: **"If that is the case, why do you truly refuse to tell Robert about the existence of his child? Perhaps his feelings would change and he would actually want him once he sees him with his own eyes now!"**
I unleashed a cruel, mocking laugh that echoed through the room: **"You know your brother Robert precisely, Harold, and you know his corrupted nature. When he says something or makes a decision, he never backtracks under any circumstances. If he learned of this infant’s existence this very second, he would probably rip him from my hands by force and throw him into the most distant orphanage to rid himself of his responsibility!"**
He cut me off in a trembling defense: **"You are exaggerating terribly, Father... Robert is cold and arrogant, but he is not a monster devoid of humanity to do this to his own son!"**
I pointed my commanding index finger directly at him, speaking in a roaring voice like thunder that shook the walls of the room: **"Listen to me very carefully, Harold. You will raise this child and give him your name as if he were entirely your real son, without a single soul ever knowing. Is that understood?!"**
His head bowed in lost despair. He cast his gaze down toward the floor, murmuring helplessly: **"I... I truly do not know what to say to you after all of this."**
I gestured with my palm toward the exit, saying in an absolute tone: **"Go now to your son, Adam. And don’t you dare—don’t you dare ever tell your wife, Miley, a single word of this secret."**
He shook his head with great difficulty, surrendering to the reality of the situation, and turned around with steps weighed down by worries and illusions to leave, closing the door slowly behind him.
The moment the stillness settled over the space once more, I drew a breathless gasp into my chest, returning from the corners of memory back to the present. I looked toward the cold lights of the room, and with fingers that trembled slightly, I pulled out another cigarette and lit it. Then, I whispered in a faint voice dripping with absolute irony:
**"Ah... Julie. If only you knew that this very child, whom you so cruelly and stubbornly refuse to donate a lobe of your liver to save... is your real son, the one you believed died right between your hands!"**