Chapter 3

In the midst of the chaos, Colin jumped up excitedly and ran to give Tristan a high five. "Mr. Prescott, did you see how accurate my throw was?"

I stared at them in a daze, my heart hurting far more than the wound on my head.

Delaney's expression changed drastically when she picked up the bean bag. "This isn't our bean bag! I want the surveillance footage in the equipment room checked!"

I watched Tristan and caught the flash of panic in his eyes.

"This is probably just a mix-up. Let's get Max to the nurse's office first," Tristan said, grabbing Delaney's wrist with a strange look on his face.

His unusual behavior made Delaney freeze. She opened her mouth, then nodded stiffly. "Right. Let's tend to the wound first. Everyone, please carry on."

"Carry on? This was intentional harm. It needs to be investigated!" I demanded, raising my voice.

Delaney grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin as she lowered her voice to a hiss. "Must you make a scene, Maxwell? It's just a little blood. Stop being so dramatic!"

Colin hid behind Tristan and made a face at me. "It's your own fault for being so clumsy and getting hit."

A few of the parents looked like they wanted to speak, but ultimately, no one intervened. Only I, the victim, stood alone against the three of them.

With blood still streaking down half my face, I let out a laugh. They were the real family. And I was nothing but a clown.

As I turned to walk away, Delaney tried to stop me. But then Tristan called out, "Laney, I think I got a cut. It hurts."

Then, the sound of her footsteps behind me stopped. I sneered coldly. My resolve to completely break things off with Delaney grew even stronger. I didn't want Colin anymore either.

I decided that I would go home tonight and tell my family that I was ending the marriage alliance with the Sterling family.

…

After getting my wound treated at the hospital, I returned home late at night, only to find the house full of people.

Delaney and my father, Howard Carrington, were standing on the second floor. Dad cleared his throat and announced loudly, "Thank you all for coming. I would also like to thank Ms. Sterling for helping me find my true heir."

I was stunned speechless, as were all the guests. Then, a familiar figure slowly stepped forward. My eyes widened as I stared fixedly at Tristan.

"Tristan is my real son."

I couldn't imagine what methods Delaney had used to deceive my father into acknowledging Tristan as a son of the Carrington family.

Pushing through the crowd, I intended to confront her, but I ran into Gillian instead. She pulled me aside, sent me a voice recording, and quickly left.

My fingers trembled as I pressed play.

"Why are you working with Mr. Carrington Senior to let Tristan replace Maxwell's identity?"

"I plan to register my marriage with Max on his birthday. As long as he has me, Max can live well even if he's not the scion of the Carrington family. But things are different for Tris. He'll be left with nothing once he divorces me. Am I supposed to let him go back to singing in bars?"

Every word pierced my eardrums like an ice pick. My mind went blank, and a buzzing sound filled my ears.

Watching Tristan chatting and laughing on the second floor, I charged forward and shouted at Dad, "Dad, you say I'm a fake. But what proof have you got? Are we to believe it based solely on your word and Delaney's?"

Everyone turned to look at him, but Dad remained calm and composed, while Tristan watched me with a faint smirk.

Soon, Dad took a document envelope from his assistant and pulled out two paternity test reports.

"Everyone, please take a look. This is the paternity test between me and Tris, showing a 99.99% match. This one between me and Maxwell shows no match at all."