Chapter 489: Do I Even Have The Right?
"Marshal... and you."
The silence that followed was as deafening as the aftermath of a gunshot.
Ashley straightened, her eyes still fixed on Lucian.
"Why?"
"I was curious."
Her lips curved into a frown as she stared at him. "Lucian."
"I need to know something." Lucian clasped her hand tightly and looked deep into her eyes. "That’s why I asked Gustav to run the tests."
"Why? Because a parent can’t be that awful to his own child?" Ashley let out a bitter laugh before looking away.
"Are you upset?" he asked, studying her reaction.
The conflict on her face made it difficult to tell.
Ashley had told Lucian about nearly everything she had gone through. Although there were still small details she hadn’t mentioned, he already knew enough to understand the kind of life she had lived in the Di Carpio family.
"Upset?" She released another short, bitter laugh. "With you? No, I’m not upset. I’m... tired."
She leaned back against the couch, pulling away from him. Her eyes wandered over the blood and bodies surrounding them—a sight that could no longer affect her appetite or unsettle her in any way.
"Lucian," she called quietly. "Do you think I’ve never taken a paternity test before?"
Ashley raised her brows and tilted her head back to look at him.
"I’ve taken about a hundred of them," she said.
"And?" he asked. "What were the results?"
Considering Ashley had remained with the Di Carpios until they married her off, the obvious assumption was that every result had been positive.
Even so, Lucian immediately considered the possibility that someone had tampered with them. Anyone who knew Marshal might have been capable of altering the results.
Lucian hadn’t seen any of them, but his heart had already reached its own conclusion.
Ashley could be someone else’s daughter.
No one could tamper with this one under his orders. However, Ashley’s answer was the last thing he expected.
"I don’t know." She shrugged and looked away, lowering her eyes. "I took a hundred tests at a hundred different clinics, and I received a hundred results. It’s just that... I never opened any of them."
His brows furrowed as he stared at the side of her face. "You never looked at the results?"
"Nope," she chuckled faintly. "Weird, right? Maybe even stupid."
Lucian swallowed as he observed her. "No, it isn’t."
"It is stupid," she argued, although her voice had grown lighter. "I would’ve known whether I was actually his daughter if I had simply torn open those envelopes as easily as I pull a trigger. Maybe I would’ve stopped wondering why he tormented me the way he did—as if the only reason he allowed me to live was so he could keep hurting me."
She paused as the weight of her own words pressed against her chest.
"But every time the results arrived, I couldn’t bring myself to open them," she continued softly. "Because no matter what they said, another kind of hell was waiting for me."
Ashley drew a deep breath.
"If the result was positive—if I really was his daughter—then why?" Her voice trembled despite the bitter smile on her face. "Why would he hurt me like that? Was it because he felt cheated by a prostitute who claimed she was going to give him a son?"
She shrugged.
"Was that all it was? If he hated me so much, why didn’t he just kill me so his wife wouldn’t be angry anymore? Killing an infant isn’t something that would’ve cost him any sleep."
Ashley tilted her head back and rested it against the couch. Her eyes fell shut.
"And if I wasn’t his child, then..." She trailed off. "Who am I? Who were my parents? Did he kill them?"
Her chest rose and fell with another breath.
"All those years of enduring everything and craving a family—what were they for? Why did I soak my hands in blood? For what?" Her voice cracked. "Do I even have the right to be angry? Or sad? Disappointed?"
She paused before letting out a faint, humorless laugh.
"Because if I wasn’t part of their family, then everything they did to me would make sense, wouldn’t it? But at the same time, what was I supposed to do with all the feelings I had drowned in my entire life? It’s not as though I could reset everything just because of a piece of paper."
In other words, either result would have devastated her.
So, she never found the courage to open any of them.
If only the tests could have given her an answer on the spot, but it takes time. By the time the results arrived, all the resolve that had pushed her to take the test in the first place had already disappeared.
Slowly, Ashley opened her eyes and stared at the high ceiling.
"So, I stopped," she whispered. "I stopped wasting money on something so silly when I wasn’t even being paid much. I was already too deep in the business—too deep in this nightmare. Finding out the truth would’ve only dragged me deeper."
Ashley pursed her lips and forced a smile.
"So, I’m not angry that you ran the tests," she told him. "I’m just... not interested in knowing the results."
She reached over and held his hand.
"They’re not important to me anymore. I have you and Primo. I have those idiots who didn’t even offer to clean up these rotting bodies." She glanced around them before continuing, "I have the plantation and friends like Betty, Castor, Nelly, and Nolan."
"I have people like Aunt Shyaan and Mr. Ramirez, who love money but also genuinely care. Not to mention Auntie Liza and Uncle Tommy, who are just... wonderful people."
A small smile tugged at her lips.
"That’s why I’m doing this." She squeezed his hand and tilted her head as she looked at him.
Ashley studied his face, taking in every perfect feature of her husband.
"This isn’t something I have to question. I don’t have to wonder why I’m doing it in the first place," she continued. "This is something I understand."
If Ashley truly wanted to move forward, cutting ties with Marshal wouldn’t be enough. She had to strip him of every ounce of power he possessed so he could never hurt the people around her—or anyone else—again.
And if she truly wanted to move forward, she had to face the people she had once turned her back on.
Because before Ashley became Ashley De Luca, there had been people like Ophelia, who had shielded her with their own battered bodies just to protect her.
Until those people were safe, every smile and every moment of happiness would always feel heavy. Ashley knew they were still suffering, and no one would save them unless she did.
"I’m going to take a shower." She smiled as she released his hand. "I stink."
With that, Ashley pushed herself off the couch. "By the way, where’s our room?"
"Down the hallway. The last door on the left."
"Got it."
She turned her back on him and walked away while Lucian remained seated, staring after her.
Don’t say it, he warned himself. Not until you’re sure. If you’re wrong, you’ll only give her another reason to hurt.
Lucian repeated those words to himself, keeping his eyes on her until she disappeared around the corner. He exhaled and rested his arms on his legs before running a hand down his face.
"Not until you’re certain, Lucian," he whispered. "Not until you’re—"
Then... who am I?
Ashley’s earlier words suddenly echoed in his mind.
His heart stopped for a second, his breath catching in his throat. After a moment, he closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.
Then he pushed himself off the couch and followed her.
"Screw it," he whispered. "She knows how to handle a grenade."