Done Being Nice After Three Years Raising Her Love Child

When I'm about to apply for medical insurance for my son, Connor Sawyer, who's about to start his first year in kindergarten, I'm told that I'm not his biological father at all.

"Are you sure this is your son? The system shows that his father is an entirely different person."

I don't respond at all. Instead, I secretly take a photo of the unfamiliar-looking address before tracking it down. It turns out that it's actually a residential area right by my own.

The moment my wife, Giselle Lambert, sees me, she freezes momentarily. At the same time, she blocks the door subconsciously with her hand.

"In the end, you still found out about the truth. But there's no use kicking up a fuss, you know. I never mistreated you in any way over the past three years, after all."

When I notice the familiar figure standing behind Giselle, I feel my limbs going cold. That person is actually my younger brother, Vincent Sawyer, who has just graduated from college.

Vincent hands Giselle a glass of water before smiling at me apologetically.

"Don't blame me, Hayden. The doctor says that I'm severely depressed, so I can't handle hearing a child's cries at all. I'm really thankful to you for raising Connor on my behalf in the past few years."

At that moment, Connor, who's supposed to be waiting for me in my car, rushes into the apartment. He runs into Vincent's arms happily before turning to look at me.

"Don't cry, Uncle Hayden. Daddy says you're a good person, so he's asked you for help. Mommy tells me that if I call you 'daddy' in your home, I'll get to visit my real daddy during the weekends."

My son, Connor Sawyer, burrowed into my brother Vincent Sawyer's embrace and nuzzled his face against Vincent's neck.

I had poured my blood, sweat, and tears into raising Connor for the last three years, and yet he had never shown me such affection.

"Don't just stand at the door, Hayden," Vincent said. "Why don't you come in?"

I stiffly stepped across the threshold.

There was a massive wall of photos opposite the living room. The photos were all of my wife, Giselle Lambert, and Vincent with Connor in between them.

Their family portraits had been neatly arranged in chronological order, showcasing moments from when Connor was born, his first birthday party, and finally his second birthday party.

Although I was Connor's father in name and had raised him for the last three years, I had never taken a proper photo with him.

My entire body trembled as I glared at Giselle. "Where's the other child you gave birth to in the delivery room three years ago?"

Giselle didn't dare look me in the eye. She swallowed before saying, "You were unconscious for three days after you got into that car accident on the way to the hospital. She had already died before you woke up."

Vincent leaned back against the couch with a smug expression. He scoffed and said, "You'd just be wasting your money on her even if she was still alive, Hayden. She's not precious like Connor."

The color drained from Giselle's face. She whipped her head toward him to stop him from speaking further.

"Zip your mouth, Vincent."

I lifted my head and glared at Giselle. There was a buzzing in my head.

So Giselle was pregnant with both my and Vincent's children at the same time. My child was a girl, and I never even got to see her.

Wait. Still alive? What did Vincent mean by that?

Vincent pursed his lips, completely ignoring Giselle's anger. "It's too cold," he said. "Turn up the temperature."

Giselle obediently picked up the air conditioner remote. It was evident that she remembered that Vincent was scared of the cold, but she had forgotten that I would get a headache every time I was exposed to the cold air from the air conditioner.

I developed this condition when Connor was a year old. He was prone to running high fevers at the time. As a result, I barely slept for two weeks, spending all my time cradling and soothing him. Unfortunately, the lack of rest led to me developing a sensitivity to the cold.

Connor grabbed a bag of chips from the coffee table and tore it open. "I want to eat this, Daddy."

I clenched my teeth when I heard how loudly and clearly Connor addressed Vincent as his father.

Giselle approached me and grabbed my wrist, saying, "I know this isn't fair to you, Hayden, but Connor is the Lambert family's only heir. Mom was rushing me for a grandchild who could continue the family line. I'll treat you even better in the future. We'll never lack money for the rest of our lives."

I knocked Giselle's hand away. Disgust roiled in my stomach as I staggered toward the door to escape that horrible place.

My phone rang just as I entered the elevator.

Mom was calling me.

"Did you meet Vince, Hayden? He has a weak constitution. He became sickly because I was busy taking care of you all those years ago."