Chapter 4 The True Heir

The rain that had been pouring over London since late afternoon showed no sign of stopping as Ronald Whitmore pulled his car up in front of the house Tristan and Moana had shared for the past three years.

The drive from the office had felt much longer than usual.

Throughout the journey, the image of Moana forcing herself to smile despite her shattered heart had refused to leave his mind. The more he thought about it, the heavier the guilt weighing on his chest became.

The moment the front door opened, Ronald strode inside without waiting to be invited.

His eyes immediately swept across the living room.

The shattered picture frame still lay scattered across the floor.

Several pieces of women's clothing had been tossed carelessly into a corner, as though someone had deliberately thrown them away without the slightest respect.

Ronald clenched his fists.

"Where's Moana?"

Tristan, who was sitting on the sofa, briefly looked up before calmly taking another sip of his coffee.

"She left."

"What do you mean, she left?"

"She chose to leave."

Ronald's gaze turned razor-sharp.

"You threw her out?"

Christina, who was sitting beside Tristan, answered before he could.

"She was the one who said she wanted a divorce. We simply let her leave."

Ronald stared at her without blinking.

His icy gaze was enough to wipe the smile from Christina's face.

"You..."

His voice was low and heavy.

"...have absolutely no right to speak in this house."

"Uncle, there's no need to make such a big deal out of this."

"A big deal?"

Ronald let out a short laugh, one completely devoid of amusement.

"You humiliated your wife, betrayed her, then threw her out of the house in the middle of a storm. And you think I'm making a big deal out of it?"

Tristan's expression remained unreadable.

"Moana will be fine."

"You know she has no one."

"I gave her a choice."

"A choice to accept your affair?" Ronald shouted.

Silence settled over the room once again.

Even the household staff standing in the distance didn't dare lift their heads.

Ronald drew a deep breath before pulling out his phone.

He immediately called the head of Whitmore family security.

"Listen carefully. Deploy everyone. Find Moana immediately."

"Yes, Mr. Ronald."

"Check every hotel, hospital, train station, bus terminal, and every Whitmore family property. The moment you find her, report back to me."

The call ended.

Tristan slowly shook his head.

"You don't need to do all that, Uncle."

Ronald looked at his nephew with profound disappointment.

"Why?"

"Because starting today, Moana's life is no longer the Whitmore family's concern."

The words had barely left Tristan's mouth when Ronald stepped forward until only a few paces separated them.

"If there's one person who has no right to say that..."

His voice was low, but every word struck like a blade.

"...it's you."

Tristan frowned.

Ronald continued slowly.

"You truly have no idea what you've just thrown away."

"I know exactly what I'm doing."

"No."

Ronald shook his head.

"You have no idea."

The older man's gaze softened into one filled with pity.

"And when you finally learn the truth..."

He paused.

"...you'll regret this for the rest of your life."

Before Tristan could respond, Ronald's phone suddenly rang.

The name flashing across the screen made his heart race.

Moana.

Without wasting a second, he answered.

"Moana! Where are you?"

"I'm fine, Uncle."

Her voice sounded exhausted, yet far calmer than it had been only a few hours earlier.

Ronald let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness. Where are you? I'll come pick you up."

"I've sent you my location."

A few seconds later, a message appeared with a pinned location.

Ronald opened it immediately.

A small restaurant in Mayfair.

"I'm on my way."

"Uncle..."

Moana called out before he could end the call.

"Yes?"

"I want to talk to you about something."

"Of course."

"Something we've put off for far too long."

Ronald fell silent for a moment.

"I understand."

After the call ended, Ronald slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Without saying another word to Tristan, he turned and walked toward the front door.

But just before stepping outside, he stopped.

"You may have driven Moana out of this house."

He spoke without turning to face Tristan.

"But remember this."

His voice was quiet.

"You'll never be able to outrun the truth."

The small restaurant stood on a quiet street corner, far from the bustling heart of London.

From the outside, the building looked modest, but inside it felt warm and inviting.

The soft glow of yellow lights reflected against windows clouded with condensation from the rain outside.

The moment Ronald stepped inside, his eyes immediately found Moana.

She had changed into dry clothes.

Her long hair was still slightly damp, and a cup of hot tea sent thin wisps of steam curling into the air before her.

Seated across from her was a man in his early thirties, dressed in a neatly tailored gray suit.

The moment he saw Ronald, he immediately stood up.

"It's been a long time, Mr. Ronald."

Ronald offered him a faint smile.

"Williams."

The man nodded politely.

"I happened to run into Moana on the street. Fortunately, I recognized her."

Ronald turned toward Moana.

"You know Williams?"

She nodded.

"He was my schoolmate. He was the one who brought me here."

Williams immediately picked up his coat.

"In that case, I'll leave you two to talk. It looks like you have a lot to discuss."

After he left, Ronald took the seat across from Moana.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Outside, the rain continued to fall gently.

Finally, Moana broke the silence.

"Uncle."

"Yes?"

"When can I reclaim everything?"

Ronald didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he studied her face.

She looked far more mature than she had that morning.

"Have you truly made up your mind?"

Moana nodded.

"I don't want to keep hiding anymore."

Ronald let out a long breath.

"I've been waiting all this time for the day you would say those words yourself."

Moana wrapped both hands around the warm teacup.

"My father once told me that everything would be returned to me when I was ready."

"That's right."

Ronald smiled faintly.

"And now?"

"I'm ready."

Her eyes became resolute.

"I want to take back what has always belonged to me."

Ronald slowly leaned back in his chair.

For years, he had carried that secret alone.

Not even Tristan knew the truth.

Everyone believed Whitmore Group had been built by the Whitmore family.

The reality, however, was entirely different.

The company had been founded with the fortune inherited from Moana's late father. After both of her parents passed away, Ronald had deliberately changed the company's name and concealed the identity of its true heir to protect Moana, who had been just a child at the time. Too many people had coveted the Ashcroft family's wealth, and the only way to keep her safe was to make the world believe that the entire fortune now belonged to the Whitmore family.

For years, Ronald had waited for the right moment.

And now...

That moment had finally arrived.

The older man looked deeply into Moana's eyes.

"Then... what's the first thing you want to do?"

Moana's gaze turned ice-cold.

"Betrayal..." she said quietly. "That's the one thing I can never forgive."