Kidnapped by Choice, Avenged by Blood, The Real Heir’s Fury

However, Mr. and Mrs. Miller did not pay her any attention. My adoptive mother's gaze was directed behind their back but she did not see Caleb anywhere.

She tried to peek into the luxury car, but she was yanked back by the driver.

Mrs. Miller pointed toward the van behind them with a disgusted look on her face and said, “He’s over there.”

My adoptive mother followed her finger and looked at the van. She looked even more confused. “He is in a van? Why would Caleb be in a van?”

The driver walked over to the van and opened the door.

My adoptive mother leaned forward to look in the van. Her face was full of bewilderment. A second later, her scream shook the entire yard. "Caleb!"

“My Caleb!” she cried out again.

I stepped forward to get a better look inside the van through the open door.

The van’s seats had been stripped out and replaced with a rough wooden plank that was placed roughly. Lying on it was a thin, nearly unrecognizable figure. His body was so emaciated, that half of it hung limply off the board. His eyes were shut tight and completely unresponsive.

When my foster mother pulled the body from the van, I realized that every inch of Caleb's exposed skin was covered in bruises, black and blue. There was even a faint scar across his abdomen.

“I gave him to you perfectly fine! What the hell did you people do to him?!” she screamed as she cradled Caleb’s battered body. Her bloodshot eyes locked onto the Miller.

Mr. Miller's brows tightened and he looked serious. “You’ve got nerve asking us that. You handed over an imposter and tried to pass him off as the Miller Family’s heir! I should’ve ended this low life on the spot immediately. You should be grateful he’s still breathing.”

My adoptive mother froze. A beat passed, then she stammered, clearly flustered, “What … impostor? Back then, it was you guys who came to our door yourselves. You said that I had adopted your son and only then did I give Caleb to you guys!”

When Mr. Miller's eyes were directed to my adopted mother, they were so cold, "We’ve investigated everything. Back then, you had a biological son and an adopted one. Caleb is your real son.”

Panic spread across my adoptive mother's face. “T … That’s not true! My son died years ago. Caleb is definitely your biological child!”

Mr. Miller’s eyes narrowed. “You just won’t quit, will you? Hold her down!”

The two drivers grabbed her and forced her to the ground.

Mr. Miller planted his foot on her hand and pressed hard. “Speak! Where the hell is my real son?”

She grimaced in pain. Even though her whole body trembled, she still refused. “It’s … it’s Caleb … he’s your son …”

Mr. Miller was a vicious man. His foot, which was stepped on my adoptive mother's hand, pressed even harder. She took a sharp breath in pain but kept her mouth shut.

I figured it was time, so I stepped out from the crowd and calmly walked forward. “Dad. I’m the son you’re looking for.”

My adoptive mother instantly broke into a rage, “Bastard David! What are you babbling about? Get the hell out of here!”

I did not pay any attention to her. I stood tall in front of Mr. Miller. “Caleb is Anna’s biological son. I’m the one you’ve been looking for all these years.”

My adoptive mother struggled violently against the grip of the drivers.

“No! He’s lying! Mr. Miller, he has nothing to do with our family!”

I looked Mr. Miller in the eyes and said, “That day … I wanted candy and you wouldn’t let me have any. So I snuck out of the house and someone lured me away into the mountains.”

“I have a circular birthmark on my shoulder and I was wearing a gold pendant around my neck back then," I added.

I opened my palm. In it was a small, golden pendant. I had buried it years ago beneath the tree in the yard to wait for this exact moment. Finally, my patience paid off.

From the ground, my adoptive mother roared even louder, “You little bastard! When did you hide that pendant? You filthy brat! I should’ve just choked you to death back then!”

Mrs. Miller snatched the pendant from my hand and turned it over to examine the inside as if looking for something.

A moment later, she glanced at Mr. Miller and gave a firm nod.

“There’s a ‘Miller’ engraved inside. This is ours.”