บททั้งหมดของ Crippled Heir: Robbed by My Own Blood: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 8

I traveled halfway across the world and returned to the familiar Quinton family. I noticed guests mingling in the banquet hall, raising their glasses and exchanging toasts. Donald Quinton, my brother, was on stage, putting a ring on my fiancée's finger.I pushed past the crowd and stormed onto the stage the next second, snatching the microphone from the host. "I'm not dead yet, Isabella! You're using my identity to propose to my fiancée, Donald? I can't believe you'd stoop so low as to steal your own brother's fiancée!"Those around immediately blew up with commotion as my voice echoed throughout the hall. They turned their gaze toward Donald, whose face was indistinguishable from my own.Donald's soft expression instantly hardened as total panic washed over his face. He recovered quickly, though. His panic gave way to overwhelming anger and helplessness. He pulled Isabella Smith, my fiancée, behind him and said in a deeply pained voice, "Donald! How did you escape from the rehabi

The banquet hall fell silent once the recording finished playing. Several executive directors of the Council of the Quinton Family Elders wore dark expressions and glared at Donald.Meanwhile, the guests began whispering to one another, their murmurs growing louder. Their suspicion of Donald had turned into disdain. Camera flashes went off endlessly as reporters frantically snapped photos, eager to capture the scandal of the Quinton brothers turning on each other.I held up the voice recorder, my smile growing colder. "You all heard that, right? Do I need to spell out what this means?"Donald went completely pale, his lips trembling as he struggled to speak.Just as I thought he was about to fall apart completely, Donald suddenly lifted his head and laughed. He let out a hysterical, cold laugh and said, "You've really gone all out to impersonate me! You found someone to imitate my voice and forged all these nonsensical documents and recordings! What does that prove, Donald?"He

That man possessed snow-white hair and a beard, dressed in a sharp traditional suit that practically commanded respect. He leaned on a dragon-headed cane, each tap seeming to strike at everyone's heart. He was none other than my father, Zack Quinton, the head of the Quinton family.A group of senior family elders followed closely behind him, every single one of them wearing a stone-cold expression.In that instant, the entire banquet hall fell completely silent.Donald's smug smile froze, and deep, instinctive fear spread across his face. He and Isabella, my fiancée, rushed forward, nearly tripping over themselves to reach him. "Why did you come here? Do you see what's happening? Donald has gone crazy, Dad! He—"Dad didn't spare them a single glance. He looked past the crowd and fixed his eyes on me, his clouded yet keen gaze filled with mixed emotions. He eventually nodded slightly; that single nod said everything that needed to be said.He walked onto the stage and grabbed the m

I could feel the howling winds whipping across the rooftop, making it hard to keep my balance. I clutched the DNA test, crushing the edges of the paper in my fist. Donald had been a Lane all along.Nothing had ever felt as absurd or chilling as this revelation, not even betrayal. No wonder he harbored such a twisted obsession with me and hated me so deeply.Donald and I had never belonged on the same side in the first place.Queenie stood right across from me, her black trench coat snapping in the wind. She looked at me without a hint of triumph, her eyes reflecting only the calm of someone who had seen it all. "Can we discuss our deal now?"I reflexively reached into my pocket, fingers finding the cold silver of Dad's watch—the one he said belonged to Mom. I flipped open the casing. No clock hands. Just a small, yellowed photo. It showed Mom in her youth alongside a pretty woman, both beaming at the camera. I looked closely and noticed that the woman shared a distinct resemblanc