Pampered by my three brothers: the return of the neglected heiress

Chapter 1730: Truth is naked

Many years ago, during the confrontation between Enzo and the fake Naylani, she had said something so outrageous that it echoed long after the encounter, spoken right in front of Enzo and Old Mrs. Pierson.

"He is not my son, and neither is he yours."

Those were the words Old Mrs. Pierson remembered clearly.

For a while, Enzo tried to pretend he hadn’t heard them. He didn’t want to think about it—he fought hard not to. But eventually, he made a decision.

He didn’t want a paternity test.

To him, Zoren was his son, and no piece of paper would change that. Some might’ve called it noble or heroic, but Old Mrs. Pierson knew the truth:

Her son didn’t want his world to collapse all at once.

Naylani—the love of his life—had already betrayed him in the cruelest way. She tried to kill their son. She hurt him and left him to burn in a fire.

That wasn’t the woman Enzo had fallen in love with. But it had happened. And even if it tore him apart, Enzo made the choice to be a father... and turn his back on his wife.

He still loved her, but he could never forgive her.

But a test result, one that confirmed Zoren wasn’t his son?

That was too terrifying. Not because he feared losing Zoren, but because he feared everything he had believed in—their love, their bond, their life—would be exposed as a lie. He had given Naylani everything. His heart. His soul. His trust.

And he didn’t want to face the possibility that it was all built on a falsehood.

So he didn’t take the test.

But Old Mrs. Pierson did.

her son’s pain, but she also knew that—for the sake of clarity and peace—someone had to

buried with her.

long convinced himself it didn’t matter—was able to finally breathe when she

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at the old paternity test. The paper had yellowed with age, corners slightly

99.9% POSITIVE.

test had been conducted using samples from

constricted slightly, recalling the test result

result had not

Pierson’s

beside him on the couch. "Renren, I don’t know why results these days get

same answer," she added, gesturing to the folder Butler Hubert had retrieved. "That one you’re holding... your father insisted on doing it himself. He wanted to be sure I wasn’t just

remained silent, eyes fixed on the

expression was unreadable—a mix of shock, confusion, and something

He’d held onto that truth for so long it had become part of him. In fact, it had been one of the reasons he considered throwing his life away

believed he never belonged in

these results...

paper, you’d still be part of this family. You’d still be my grandson. And your father

eyes softened. "Don’t say again that you aren’t. That would break my heart. And

A lump formed in his

leaned against him and gave his arm a light slap. "Does a piece of

huffed—gently—but her tone carried the sternness

else tells you you’re not his son, do their

almost embarrassed laugh. "No. Yours weighs

are you going to take care of them if all you know is how to run a company? You can’t

SLAP!