I found out my fiancée was carrying my brother’s child. My family tried to convince me it was just a mistake. So I walked away from all of them without looking back.

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Chapter 1: The White Party

The July sea breeze blew through the white silk curtains of the Sterling family mansion in East Hampton. It was my engagement party, Liam Sterling’s engagement party, and Elena’s – the woman I’d loved for four years in college and three years building my career.

Everything was perfect. Dom Pérignon champagne flowed freely, Tom Ford tuxedos and Oscar de la Renta evening gowns sparkled under the chandeliers. I was a rising architect, the second son of the Sterling family. My brother, Connor, was the CEO of the family business, always considered the “golden boy” by our parents.

But that perfect world had shattered just 30 minutes earlier.

In my jacket pocket was a crumpled envelope. Not a wedding invitation. It was the NIPT (non-invasive prenatal test) results I’d stumbled upon in Elena’s handbag when she asked me to get her lipstick.

Elena is 10 weeks pregnant.

We haven’t had sex in the last three months because I was on a business trip to Dubai supervising a construction project.

And in the genetic notes, there’s a rare genetic coincidence that only those with direct blood ties have.

I stood on the balcony, looking into the banquet hall. Elena was beaming next to Connor. My brother’s hand rested lightly on her waist, an overly intimate gesture between a brother-in-law and his future sister-in-law.

“Liam, come in! It’s time for a toast!” My mother, Victoria, beckoned. She was magnificent and powerful, the iron woman of the family.

I walked in. I turned off the music. The entire hall fell silent.

“What’s going on?” My father, Richard, frowned.

I tossed the test results down on the table, right next to the five-tiered cake.

“Here you go, Elena,” I said, my voice strangely calm. “And yours too, Connor.”

Elena picked up the paper. Her face turned from rosy to deathly pale in an instant. Connor glanced at it, then took a sip of wine, showing no sign of panic.

“Liam,” Connor said, his voice condescending. “You’re bringing shame to the family.”

“Shame?” I scoffed. “You slept with my fiancée. She’s pregnant. And you say I’m bringing shame to the family?”

My parents rushed forward. They snatched the paper. Victoria glanced at it, her eyes widening, then immediately narrowing in calculating fury.

She didn’t slap Connor. She didn’t scold Elena. She turned to me.

“Liam,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper but enough for me to hear the threat. “This is just a mistake. Labs make mistakes all the time. Don’t make a fuss.”

“A mistake?” I pointed to Elena’s stomach. “She’s 10 weeks pregnant. I haven’t been here for three months. That’s basic math, Mom.”

“So what?” My father spoke up, standing in front of Connor. “Even if it’s true… Elena is a good girl. Her family is our strategic partner. The merger is next month. You can’t cancel this wedding just because… your brother had a moment of weakness.”

I looked at them. At the faces I’d called family for 28 years.

“A moment of weakness?” I repeated. “Are you telling me to marry her, raise my brother’s child, and pretend nothing happened?”

“It’s a necessary sacrifice,” my mother said, gripping my hand tightly, her fingernails digging into my flesh. “Connor is the face of the corporation. He can’t be involved in an infidelity scandal. You’re an architect, you live in the art world, you… are more forgiving. Do this for the family. Treat the baby as your own. We’ll make it up to you.”

Elena stood there, head bowed, but offered no apology. She knew her place. She carried the blood of the “main heir.” She was safe.

“Make it up?” I pushed my mother’s hand away. “With money?”

“With anything you want,” Connor said, a smirk on his face. “An apartment in Manhattan? Or capital to start your own company? Don’t be childish, Liam. Grow up.”

I looked at Connor. He always won. He always took everything from me since I was a child: toys, attention, and now the woman I loved. And my parents always cleaned up his mess.

But not this time.

I took off my Patek Philippe watch – a birthday gift from my father last year – and placed it on the table. I pulled out the keys to my Aston Martin and set them beside it.

“I don’t need compensation,” I said. “And I don’t need this sick family anymore.”

“Where are you going?” my father roared. “If you walk out that door, you’re no longer Sterling. I’ll cut off your support. I’ll freeze your accounts. You won’t have a penny!”

“Who do you think you are without the Sterling name?” Connor scoffed.

I adjusted my suit collar, looking each of them straight in the eye.

“I’d rather starve than eat the rubbish you call ‘family honor’.”

I turned and walked away. My mother’s screams, my father’s curses, and the eerie silence of Connor and Elena were left behind the thick oak door.

I left without looking back.

Chapter 2: The Silence of Seattle

Five years passed.

I didn’t starve. In fact, being cut off from aid was the best thing that ever happened to me. It forced me to fight.

I moved to Seattle, the city of rain and…

I went to a café, where nobody cared about the Sterling name. I started from scratch, working at a small architectural firm. My talent and passion for the work propelled me to great heights.

Now, I own Vance & Associates, one of the leading green architecture firms on the West Coast. I have a house overlooking Puget Sound, a Golden Retriever named Max, and a peace of mind that the Sterlings’ money could never buy.

I never contacted them again. I blocked their number. I didn’t read any news about them.

Until one rainy Tuesday morning.

My secretary knocked on the door. “Boss, there are VIPs wanting to see you. They don’t have an appointment, but they say they’re… your family.”

I turned my chair around.

Standing in the office window were my parents and Connor.

They looked much older. My father was using a cane. My mother’s haughty demeanor was gone, her face etched with anxious wrinkles. And Connor… he looked haggard and gaunt, completely devoid of the arrogance of a CEO.

Elena wasn’t there.

“Invite them in,” I said.

They entered my spacious office, looking around in astonishment. They hadn’t expected their “prodigal son” to have such a place.

“Liam,” my mother spoke first, her voice trembling. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” I replied coldly, without inviting them to sit. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re family, son,” my father said, his voice weak. “It’s been five years. We missed you.”

“Don’t beat around the bush,” I interrupted. “You never missed me. If you did, you wouldn’t have threatened to cut off funding when I left. What do you want?”

Connor stepped forward, placing a stack of files on my desk.

“We need your signature,” Connor said, his voice hoarse.

“A signature?”

“The corporation is in trouble,” Connor confessed, avoiding my gaze. “The Summit project in Dubai…it’s suspended. We owe the bank $500 million. If we don’t restructure the debt this week, Sterling Corp will go bankrupt.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with me? I’m no longer a shareholder.”

“It concerns Grandpa’s Trust Fund,” my mother said, tears welling up. “Grandpa left a clause: In the event of a crisis, the emergency fund can only be opened with the unanimous signature of all direct grandsons. That’s you and Connor.”

Ah, Grandpa. The only one in the family with foresight.

“How much is in that fund?” I asked.

“$200 million. Enough to save the company,” my father said. “Liam, sign it. This is the family legacy. You can’t let it fall apart.”

“What about Elena?” I asked suddenly. “And the baby?”

The atmosphere became heavy.

“She left,” Connor said with a bitter laugh. “After the baby was born… it got sick. A rare genetic disease. The treatment was expensive, and she couldn’t handle the pressure when the company started to decline. She divorced him two years ago and took half of his personal assets.”

“Where is the baby?”

“It’s in a special care home,” my mother said quickly. “It…it’s not quite normal.”

I looked at them. Three selfish, cruel people who had once trampled on me, now standing before me begging for my signature to save their glamorous facade. They had abandoned their sick grandchild in a care home to get rid of their debts, just as they had tried to throw away my self-respect five years ago.

“I’ll sign,” I said.

Their eyes lit up. “Thank you, son! I knew you still cared about the family!” My father was about to hug me.

“With one condition,” I held up my hand to stop him.

“Any condition,” Connor said.

“I want to buy back all of Sterling Corp’s shares for $1 after the funds are released to pay off the debt. And you must leave the Board of Directors permanently.”

“What?” Connor shouted. “Are you trying to hijack the company?”

“Not hijacking,” I smiled. “It’s saving it. You’ve proven yourselves incompetent. Either I take over, or you go bankrupt and lose everything, including your mortgaged houses.”

They looked at each other. They had no other choice.

Chapter 3: The Twist of the Blueprint

One week later.

I officially became the Chairman of Sterling Corp. The first thing I did was fire Connor and the old board of directors.

I was sitting in Connor’s old New York office, reviewing the files for The Summit project in Dubai – the project that had brought the company down.

I opened the design drawings.

And I laughed.

It was my design.

Five years ago, before I left, I had left an unfinished design on my desk at home. It was a sketch of an idea for a skyscraper. But I knew it had a serious structural flaw in the foundation if built on desert sand. I had intended to fix it, but then things happened.

Connor, incompetent and lazy, stole the design, put his name on it, and submitted it to the bidding. He won the bid because of the flashy appearance of the design.

But when construction reached the 50th floor, the tower began to tilt.

The collapse of Sterling Corp wasn’t due to the market. It wasn’t bad luck either.

It collapsed because Connor stole my intellectual property without having the expertise to understand it.

He dug his own grave with his greed and lies.

I picked up the phone and called my assistant.

“Sarah, please contact St. Mary’s boarding school. I want to pick up a child.”

“His name is Noah Sterling.”

“Yes? Where are you taking him, sir?”

“To my home in Seattle. And prepare the best medical team. I will raise the child.”

Chapter 4: The Sweetest Revenge

Seattle Airport.

I picked up Noah. He was four years old, thin, sitting in a wheelchair, his big, round eyes filled with fear. He had been abandoned by both his parents and considered a burden by his paternal family.

I knelt down in front of him.

“Hello, Noah. I’m Liam.” “He’s… your uncle.”

The boy looked at me, timidly reaching out his tiny hand.

I hugged him.

My family had tried to convince me that Elena’s pregnancy was a “mistake.” But they were wrong. Noah wasn’t a mistake. His existence was proof of their guilt, but also my chance to prove how different I was from them.

I took away their company. I stripped them of their power.

But my greatest revenge isn’t money.

My greatest revenge is that I will raise Connor’s son to be a kind, loving, and upright man – all the things Connor never did.

I will fix the flawed blueprint of his life, just as I would fix the tower in Dubai (I know how to fix that foundation).

My phone vibrated. A message from my mother:

“Liam, I beg you.” “Give Connor a small managerial position, even if it’s just a minor one. He’s depressed.”

I texted back:

“No. But I’ll send him a bus ticket to Seattle. If he wants to see his son, he can come. But he’ll have to wait in line like everyone else.”

I hung up, pushed Noah’s wheelchair out of the airport, and stepped into the bright sunshine.

I left them without looking back. And now, I’m moving forward, carrying the last remaining good of the Sterling family, to build a true legacy.