The Real Daughter

While searching my father’s study for the project proposal and draft contract he had carried before the accident, I found a DNA test report.

My father had hidden it away.

There were two reports.

Both from three years ago.

The first conclusion:

Genetic relationship excluded. Song Xiang is not Song Yunge’s biological father.

My fingers went cold.

I opened the second report.

Genetic relationship supported. Song Xiang and Li Yi have a 99.9999% probability of biological kinship.

Li Yi.

My husband’s mistress.

How could it be her?

Why her?

Anger rushed through me.

I tore the reports into pieces and flushed them down the toilet.

Since my father had never publicly acknowledged her, she could continue being the hidden mistress.

When I returned home, Yan Qianyu sat by the floor-to-ceiling window.

On the table before him lay a divorce agreement.

I sat across from him and picked it up.

“Yan Qianyu,” I said coldly, “you think you hid your affair well, but I have all the evidence. If you want a divorce, your personal assets split twenty-eighty. I take eight.”

I laid my cards out because at this stage, I still needed our interests tied together.

I could not divorce.

“Song Yunge,” Yan Qianyu said, tapping the table rhythmically, “don’t be too greedy. You may lose more than you gain.”

I thought my demand would make him give up.

Instead, he sued me for illegal cohabitation during marriage.

He hired the best divorce lawyer in Xin’an.

He fabricated witnesses and evidence.

The court granted the divorce.

Because both sides were deemed at fault, the property division did not go my way.

Outside the courthouse, I saw Li Yi through a half-open car window.

Her eyes were full of triumph.

My divorce certificate was still warm when the internet exploded.

Weilan Group heiress exposed as fake daughter.

Liu Yang called to say the company’s legal department had verified the online DNA report.

It was real.

Song Xiang had done the test personally.

I sat limp in my chair.

I knew clearly then:

I would lose everything.

Li Yi had the report all along but had never released it.

Was it because my father forbade her?

So she climbed into Yan Qianyu’s bed to revenge herself on me?

To take everything from me?

Did my father know?

He probably did.

Then I alone had been kept in the dark.

How had they looked at me all these years?

A joke?

A clown?

But what had I done wrong?

After a long silence, I called Li Yi.

“Li Yi, this is Song Yunge. Let’s meet.”

“Sure,” she said. “At the Song house.”

“Pack your things while you’re there. Leave my home today.”

She arrived quickly.

Yan Qianyu did not come with her.

Li Yi walked through the house, touching the expensive furniture like a returning queen.

“Miss Li,” I said, “for the company’s stability, I hope you can hire me as group president.”

She laughed.

“Song Yunge, you really have thick skin.”

“You enjoyed being a young lady for so many years. Be satisfied.”

She sat on the sofa and closed her eyes in pleasure.

“I’ll give you one day to arrange a press conference and transfer all shares and property under my name.”

My fists clenched.

“I worked in the group for years. My salary and income are mine.”

Li Yi opened her eyes.

“Without the title of Song heiress, you could never have entered Weilan.”

“So everything still belongs to the Song family.”

“To me.”

“My wages are personal income,” I said.

“Are they?”

She smiled like she was watching a clown.

“You used company money to pay compensation for Chen Jia and driver Lin Mao. Shouldn’t that be repaid by you personally?”

I froze.

I had not expected my one moment of mercy to become a blade at my throat.

“The driver died while working. Weilan had liability.”

“But I have the contract you signed with Chen Jia,” Li Yi said. “It states clearly that you used the company’s name to pay Lin Mao’s compensation for him.”

“Whether that is unauthorized transfer of company funds, we can discuss in court.”

“Li Yi,” I snapped, “don’t go too far.”

She lifted her chin.

“I’m only taking back what belongs to me. What’s wrong with that?”