Five Years After Jumping into the Sea, I Returned with a Mini-Billionaire to Shock Everyon

The mockery on Liam's face froze solid.

The auctioneer brought the gavel down, nearly vibrating out of his skin with excitement.

A staff member sprinted over clutching a card terminal.

I rolled up my sleeve, exposing the jagged scar running down my wrist.

Decompression sickness had left its brand—proof that I had fought with my life every single day for the past five years.

I swiped my card. Signed. Movements fluid as water.

"Oh, and one more thing." I shoved the black card back into my pocket and met Liam's gaze. "Mr. Farley, if you aren't using your eyes, donate them. Get out of my way."

I took the child's hand and turned to leave.

Liam's expression darkened to a sickly shade of iron. He jerked his chin at his bodyguards.

*Boom.*

The main doors slammed shut.

A dozen men in black suits sealed off the exit.

Liam shoved Evelyn aside and advanced on me, teeth grinding. "You think you can just leave? Explain yourself. Whose bastard is this?"

A trembling finger jabbed toward the child, eyes venomous. "Here to scam me? I don't mind verifying it right here and making you disappear for good this time."

In the auction house's VIP lounge.

A dozen burly men ringed the boy and me, leaving no room for escape.

Liam sprawled across the sofa, legs crossed, radiating arrogance. He twisted the signet ring on his finger, his glare gloomy and sharp.

"Speak, Nora."

A document slammed onto the coffee table—a private detective's report from five years ago.

"Who did you sleep with to get that fifty million? Or did you sell your body to get it?"

Every word was designed to draw blood.

Evelyn cradled a cup of tea, eyes rimmed red, looking delicate and pitiful.

"Sister, don't be angry with Liam. Just tell us who the father is, and the Farley family will give you some money."

Her gaze drifted to Liam's lap, voice dropping to a stage whisper loud enough for the entire room.

"After all, everyone knows about Liam's... condition."

"Insisting the child is a Farley is just twisting the knife in Liam's wound, isn't it?"

She really knew how to drive the blade in deep.

My son laughed.

Crisp. Cold. Unnervingly adult.

He unwrapped a piece of gum, chewed twice, and regarded Evelyn with clinical detachment.

"Auntie, your perfume is strong. It smells like the cheap toilet cleaner we use at home."

Evelyn's face stiffened, her tears freezing mid-wobble.

Liam shot to his feet and swung his hand, aiming a slap at the child's face.

"You uncultured little mongrel! You think you're worthy to speak to her?"

The slap cut through the air.

I grabbed the phone off the table and smashed it into the back of his hand.

*Bang!*

The screen shattered against bone. His hand swelled instantly, flushing an angry red.

He hissed, stumbling back, cradling his fingers. "Nora! You dare hit me for this bastard?"

I pulled the child behind me, gaze unyielding.

"Watch your mouth, Liam. Whether this child is a bastard or not—don't you know the truth in your heart?"

Liam laughed.

A sound bordering on madness.

"Fine! Good!"

He roared at the bodyguards. "Drag this brat to the lab! I want a DNA test right now!"

"I want the entire capital to see whose mongrel you were carrying! I will prove my innocence! I will prove I never touched a bitch like you!"

To humiliate me, he didn't hesitate to announce his own alleged infertility to the world.

His logic was twisted beyond repair.

The bodyguards stepped forward.

My son didn't flinch. He plucked a single hair from his head and held it out.

I stopped the guards, took the strand, and walked up to Liam.

I dropped it onto the coffee table. Looked at him as if he were trash.

"Test it."

My voice was terrifyingly calm.

"But Liam... you won't be able to handle the result."