Chapter 1730: Truth is naked

Many years ago, during the confrontation between Enzo and the fake Naylani, she had said something so outrageous that it echoed long after the encounter, spoken right in front of Enzo and Old Mrs. Pierson.

"He is not my son, and neither is he yours."

Those were the words Old Mrs. Pierson remembered clearly.

For a while, Enzo tried to pretend he hadn’t heard them. He didn’t want to think about it—he fought hard not to. But eventually, he made a decision.

He didn’t want a paternity test.

To him, Zoren was his son, and no piece of paper would change that. Some might’ve called it noble or heroic, but Old Mrs. Pierson knew the truth:

Her son didn’t want his world to collapse all at once.

Naylani—the love of his life—had already betrayed him in the cruelest way. She tried to kill their son. She hurt him and left him to burn in a fire.

That wasn’t the woman Enzo had fallen in love with. But it had happened. And even if it tore him apart, Enzo made the choice to be a father... and turn his back on his wife.

He still loved her, but he could never forgive her.

But a test result, one that confirmed Zoren wasn’t his son?

That was too terrifying. Not because he feared losing Zoren, but because he feared everything he had believed in—their love, their bond, their life—would be exposed as a lie. He had given Naylani everything. His heart. His soul. His trust.

And he didn’t want to face the possibility that it was all built on a falsehood.

So he didn’t take the test.

But Old Mrs. Pierson did.

She understood her son’s pain, but she also knew that—for the sake of clarity and peace—someone had to know the truth. So, without telling Enzo, she arranged a paternity test.

If it came back negative, she would keep the truth buried with her. But if Naylani had lied, then Enzo deserved to know.

And thanks to her, Enzo—who had long convinced himself it didn’t matter—was able to finally breathe when she showed him the result.

---

Zoren stared at the old paternity test. The paper had yellowed with age, corners slightly crumpled, but the results were crystal clear.

99.9% POSITIVE.

The test had been conducted using samples from both Enzo and Zoren.

His pupils constricted slightly, recalling the test result he had received in his previous life.

That result had not been the same.

Back then, he’d used a strand of Old Mrs. Pierson’s hair. He hadn’t had anything from Enzo to use.

Old Mrs. Pierson let out a slow breath beside him on the couch. "Renren, I don’t know why results these days get forged so easily. But I’m certain about this one. If you’d like, there are more tests done by different clinics and hospitals."

"All of them gave the same answer," she added, gesturing to the folder Butler Hubert had retrieved. "That one you’re holding... your father insisted on doing it himself. He wanted to be sure I wasn’t just giving him false hope."

Zoren remained silent, eyes fixed on the yellowed paper.

His expression was unreadable—a mix of shock, confusion, and something else.

Last night’s hypnosis had brought up everything he once believed. He’d held onto that truth for so long it had become part of him. In fact, it had been one of the reasons he considered throwing his life away alongside the fake Naylani.

He believed he never belonged in this world.

But these results... said otherwise.

"Renren." Old Mrs. Pierson gently took his hand. "Even if we didn’t have that piece of paper, you’d still be part of this family. You’d still be my grandson. And your father would still love you, no differently than he did before."

Her eyes softened. "Don’t say again that you aren’t. That would break my heart. And I know Enzo wouldn’t be pleased to hear it, either."

Zoren’s jaw tightened. A lump formed in his throat. Unable to speak, he simply nodded.

"You silly child." She leaned against him and gave his arm a light slap. "Does a piece of paper decide whether we’re family?"

She huffed—gently—but her tone carried the sternness of a grandmother’s love.

"Even if someone else tells you you’re not his son, do their words matter more than mine?"

Zoren let out a soft, almost embarrassed laugh. "No. Yours weighs more."

"As they should." She pulled away and gave him a sharper slap on the back. "Foolish boy. Even if you weren’t—what about your wife and your quadruplets? How are you going to take care of them if all you know is how to run a company? You can’t even beg your brother Atlas for a sliver of inheritance!"

SLAP!

Another whack landed on his shoulder. "I’ve never raised a hand to you in my life—but if you bring this up again, I just might! How dare you say my great-grandchildren aren’t my great-grandchildren?!"

"Grandma, that’s not what I was sayi—ow—" Zoren flinched as another slap landed.

"Same thing! Don’t take that right from me, you hear me?" she snapped, now entirely in grandmother rage mode.

Her sentimentality was gone, replaced by righteous fury. "I should tell Penny—no, her parents—about this! Renren, you are—"

Suddenly, the door creaked open.

Penny poked her head inside.

She blinked as her eyes darted between the two. Her gaze landed on the folders spread across their laps and the raised hand of Old Mrs. Pierson, while Zoren leaned awkwardly to the side, clearly a scene mid-slap.

Penny smiled awkwardly before she quietly pulled her head back out and shut the door just as silently.

Once outside, her expression crumpled.

"Phew. Good thing they didn’t see me," she muttered as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, tiptoeing away. "I don’t want to get smacked by Grandma."

Back inside, Zoren blinked at the door.

"I saw her," he muttered, right before another slap struck his shoulder.

"You think your wife is going to save you?!" Old Mrs. Pierson huffed. "We’ve burdened her family enough. This is not the time to be doubting your parentage!"

She didn’t stop—not out of anger, but out of love.

A reminder that not everything people see is the truth. Because sometimes, lies wear the disguise of truth.

And the truth? It walks around naked; it makes everyone uncomfortable, unsettled, and thus ignored.