My Best Friend Is Pregnant With My Husband’s Baby, But The Dna Test Just Proved It Actually Belongs To His Father. I’m About To Reveal This At The Anniversary Gala. Should I Record Their Faces?

Leaving the prison, the sun was blinding. Lucas was waiting for me by the car. “Miss Sophia, the Don wants you at the estate. He says he has something important to tell you.”

“All right.” I got into the car.

In six months, from a victim of a failed marriage, I had become the heir of a billion-dollar organization. The joy of revenge was slowly fading, leaving behind a sense of emptiness. Mom, can you see me? Everyone who hurt you has paid.

The phone vibrated. A message from Matthew: “New development. George Vance died in prison from a heart attack. The autopsy showed traces of a chronic poison in his system.”

I looked at the screen and smiled slowly. My father had planned everything. “Lucas, tell Dad I’ll be there for dinner tonight. And contact the Swiss bank to schedule an appointment to deposit my mother’s necklace in a safe deposit box.”

“Yes, Miss Sophia.”

Outside the window, the city skyline glittered at sunset. My era was just beginning.

On the top floor of the Moretti International Building, formerly Blackwood Construction, I held a glass of whiskey and watched the magnificent night view of New York. It had been three months since Alexander’s imprisonment and the company’s takeover. I was there almost every night, but it still didn’t feel real.

“President Moretti, here is today’s financial report.” Matthew entered and placed a document on my desk. “After resuming the Hudson Yards project, sales are exceeding expectations.”

“Good work, Director Reed.” I took a sip of whiskey.

Matthew didn’t leave but came closer. “You haven’t attended any meetings for a week. The Board of Directors is worried.”

“What are they worried about? That I’ll run off with the money?” I sneered.

“They’re worried about you.” Matthew’s voice became unusually gentle. “After achieving revenge, many people fall into a sense of emptiness.”

Only then did I turn to look at him. Matthew wasn’t wearing his glasses. He had bags under his eyes and his tie was loose—an image completely different from his usual professional demeanor.

“It looks like you’re the one who needs a break. Want a drink?”

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. We drank in silence.

“Why did you help me? Was it really just because of my father?” I asked suddenly.

Matthew swirled his glass. “At first, it was because of a debt I owed the Don.” He looked up, his eyes burning. “But now, it’s because I admire who you are, Sophia Moretti.”

My heart sank. I immediately looked away. “Don’t joke like that.”

“It’s not a joke.” Matthew put down his glass and pulled a small box from his jacket. “This is a brooch your mother entrusted to my father. Now it returns to its rightful owner.”

I opened the box. Inside was a finely crafted pearl brooch. It was clearly a set with my mother’s black pearl necklace.

“My father told me that 20 years ago, after that fire, your mother saved your father. This brooch was the only memento your mother left.”

“Fire? What fire? Didn’t the Don tell you? 20 years ago, the Vance chemical plant exploded. Three neighboring districts were destroyed.”

The glass in my hand suddenly felt heavy. My mother’s death had occurred right after that incident. “I need to see my mother’s diary.” I put down the glass and grabbed my coat to leave.

“Wait.” Matthew stopped me. “I discovered the real reason Victoria Blackwood was sending money to Clara. It wasn’t for her, but for George Vance. Victoria was buying his silence for participating in your mother’s murder 20 years ago.”

The USB drive in my hand felt cold. 20 years ago again. The darkest period of my life. Tomorrow I will talk to my father and ask everything.

In the attic of my father’s estate, in a dusty box, I found my mother’s brown leather diary. “The 3rd of May 1998. I got the decisive evidence. The scene of Claudio Vance killing a protester at the construction site. Tomorrow I will report him.” “May 4. Vittorio Blackwood came. He wanted to buy the film roll at a high price. I refused. When he left, his gaze was terrifying. He’s following me. I hid a copy of the film roll in the diary.”

There, the writing stopped. The last page was torn. I rummaged through the box and found a piece of an old photograph. My mother, Vittorio Blackwood, and Claudio Vance were posing in front of a sign that read “Vance Chemicals.” On the back of the photo was a small note: “Shareholders meeting, Vance Chemicals, February 1997.”

My mother’s maiden name was Ki. My father’s was Moretti. Could my mother have been a shareholder?

At that moment, Lucas called. “Miss Sophia, the Don is in the hospital. Heart attack.”

In the hospital corridor, the red light of the operating room stayed on. It had been three hours since my father went in.

“What happened?”

“We don’t know. After a meeting with representatives of the Wolves, he suddenly clutched his chest.”

An old member said, “Miss Sophia, the Don hid something from you. The fire 20 years ago was an attempt on his life. Claudio Vance wanted to eliminate a competitor and collect the insurance.”

At that moment, the operating room door opened and the doctor came out. “He’s passed the critical stage, but he only has six months left.”

I entered the room. My father was surrounded by machines. “Sophia, did you find the diary?”

“Yes.”

“Where is the film roll Mom hid?”

“In the study at the estate, under the third-floor tile.”

“Sophia, the Commission is entrusted to you.”

“No, don’t think such things.”

“No, listen.” My father gripped my hand tightly. “Vance is dead, but the Wolves won’t stop. Either you face them in an all-out war or you disband the organization. The Commission is too dirty. It’s no place for a woman like you. Sophia, don’t become like me.”

I removed the third-floor tile in the study. Underneath was a rusty metal box. Inside were several film rolls and a letter—my mother’s letter.

“To my dearest Sophia, if you are reading this letter, it means I am no longer in this world. Don’t be too sad. This was my choice. Revenge does not bring peace. Only justice can. Yours forever, Mom.”

I fell to the floor sobbing. At that moment, a message from Matthew arrived: “I’ve discovered something. Your mother didn’t die from a fall. She was strangled and then thrown from the roof.”

The next morning, I gathered the organization’s senior members in my office. “You all know my father’s situation. I want to hear your opinion on the future of the Commission.”

One of the old-timers, Donato, spoke up. “According to the rules, Miss Sophia should take over, but right now with the threat from the Wolves, it’s a crisis situation. We need a strong leader.”

“Are you saying I’m not fit?”

“No offense, but the organization is not like a business.”

“I understand.” I pressed a button on my desk. Lucas and armed bodyguards entered. “You have three options. One: help me turn the Commission into a legitimate security company. Two: take a severance package and leave. Three…” I pulled a folder from the drawer. “Surrender to the police. All your dealings are documented here.”

In the end, most of the old-timers chose retirement. Donato, furious, left vowing to join the Wolves.

“Lucas, keep an eye on Donato and arrange a meeting with the leader of the Wolves.”

That afternoon, I went with Matthew to the Hudson Yards construction site. It had become a beautiful park filled with the laughter of children.

“This is what your mother would have wanted to see,” Matthew said.

In that moment, I understood. My mother had left my father not because she didn’t love him, but because she wanted the next generation to live free from violence and hatred.

“Sophia…” Matthew suddenly knelt and pulled a ring from his pocket. “I know it’s too soon to say this, but I want to officially start courting you.”

“Give me some time.” I covered his mouth, my eyes welling with tears. “Once I’ve sorted things out with my father and the Commission.”

“I’ll wait as long as it takes.” He stood up and gently hugged me.

A few days later, my father had heart surgery. In the hallway outside the operating room, I played with my mother’s black pearl necklace. Fortunately, the surgery was a success.

That afternoon, I met Gianni, the leader of the Wolves, at the Pierre Hotel. “The Commission will be disbanded and turned into a legitimate security company. We will cede a portion of the territories left by the Vance family to you, on one condition: You abandon all illegal businesses.”

After a tense negotiation, Gianni agreed to the proposal.

Returning to the hospital, my father was awake. I showed him my mother’s letter and the evidence. He cried. “I as good as killed her.”

“No, Dad. It’s over now.”

My father pulled a document from under his pillow. “Sign it. The Commission is yours now.”

It was a will leaving me all his assets. The last page contained a clause: “If Sophia Moretti marries Matthew Reed, 10% of the shares will be transferred to Matthew Reed.”

My father laughed for the first time in a long time. “That boy is a good one, much better than the son-in-law your mother chose for me.”

A month later, Moretti Security was officially launched. At a press conference, I announced that 10% of the profits from the Hudson Yards project would be donated to charity.

“President Moretti, it’s rumored your father founded the Commission. Is that true?”

“Yes. My father once lost his way, but he spent the rest of his life trying to right that wrong. Moretti Security will offer a chance to all who, like him, want a new beginning.”

After the press conference, Matthew took me to the Central Park at Hudson Yards.

“Sophia, I’ve been thinking for a long time.” He knelt and pulled out an old diamond ring. “This ring was my grandmother’s. She told me to give it to the person who could end our family’s painful history.”

I thought of my mother’s letter. Justice, not revenge. “Yes, but on one condition. You turn the top floor of the old Blackwood Construction building into a children’s library named after my mother.”

Matthew slid the ring onto my finger and kissed the back of my hand. “Of course.”

On our wedding day, my father walked me down the aisle. Matthew was waiting for me at the end, his eyes full of love. I had tied my mother’s black pearl necklace to my bouquet.

On our honeymoon, I whispered to Matthew, “I think I’m pregnant. If it’s a girl, I want to name her after my mother, Eleanor.”

Matthew held me tight. “Thank you, Sophia, for breaking this terrible chain of hatred.”

In the distance, the dawn of a new day was breaking. My mother’s pearls shimmered under the starlight like a period marking the end of everything, and the beginning of everything.