My Professional Partner and My Husband Are Kissing

Soon enough, Sophie and Jake arrived, hand-in-hand, looking every bit the doting mother and son.

Jake was laden with a stack of shopping bags, his face glistening with sweat yet beaming with joy.

"Mom, check out my haul. Cool, right?"

My heart seized hearing him call Sophie "Mom."

The ink wasn't even dry on our divorce papers, and there he was, my nine-month labor of love, calling another woman mother.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and faced him, "Jake, what did you call her?"

His once soft gaze turned sharp with annoyance, "Sophie's gonna be my new mom once she marries Dad. What's wrong with that?"

"What about me?" I blurted out before I could catch myself, "I've been your mom for ten years."

He looked at me with barely concealed disdain, "All you do is nag and boss me around. Sophie's cool, she gets me all the latest gadgets—a whole bunch of them, lets me game all I want."

"She even says it's okay to eat junk food now and then. We can afford the best doctors if I need them."

I was staggered by his words, unable to reconcile them with the son I knew.

He wrapped an arm around Sophie's waist and delivered the final blow, "Hurry up and divorce Dad. Sophie's gonna have my baby sister soon. You should just get rid of the one you're carrying—I wouldn't care for them anyway."

Reeling from his words, I stumbled back, speechless.

How could things have come to this?

Sophie looked over at me with a taunting smile, "Kids always tell the truth. Poverty makes everything harder, doesn't it? Stop dragging Jason down because you can't cut it."

I caught my breath and steadied my gaze on her, "I heard South City's richest family only had one son, and their daughter was lost as a child. Are you the one they just found?"

A shadow crossed Sophie's eyes briefly, but she quickly masked it, "There's a lot of nonsense online. Only fools believe that. Are you suggesting you're the daughter? Not me?"

"Jason's met my dad, even snapped a photo with him."

Jake, not missing a beat, whipped out his new phone and showed off the photo.

"Look, that's my granddad."

I scrutinized the picture—it was undeniably the man I had identified as my father during my trip.

During my business trip, I stopped by the hospital for a routine prenatal check-up. Just then, an emergency patient was rushed in, bleeding out badly.

I offered to donate blood, but somehow, in the chaos, the nurse mixed up my sample and used it for a paternity test with the patient.

That’s when it came to light—I was actually the long-lost daughter of South City's wealthiest family.

My mother had told me about our family history—just one brother. So who was Sophie in this picture, cozying up to my father?

Could she be a secret child he'd had on the side?

My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, no answers in sight.

Soon, the lab results were handed to us, confirming the authenticity of the prenup—no forgery found.

The world seemed to spin around me.

"No way! I would never agree to leave with nothing! This is a scam!" I shouted, my composure cracking.

Jason pulled me aside into a deserted lounge, slapping the divorce papers down once more, "The drama's enough. Isn't it time you just signed these?"

I glared at him fiercely, "Not a chance! The one who should be leaving with nothing is you!"

Even though I now had access to a fortune, this was about principle.

This money, though trivial now, represented decades of my life before discovering my true heritage.

I wouldn't let him walk away with it so easily.

Sophie's impatient voice echoed from the corridor, pushing Jason to the edge as he balled his fists, "Emily, you're forcing my hand!"