Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption
Chapter 270: What does that make me?

Chapter 270: What does that make me?

A bitter, broken laugh escaped his lips. "Treated like an Allen?" he repeated slowly, his eyes wide and glassy. "So that’s it? You gave me everything but the one thing that mattered. You kept me close just to remind me I didn’t belong."

Elder Allen sighed, his shoulders drooping like the weight of old age had finally caught up with him. "It was not to mock you, Desmond. Your situation wasn’t a common one. My late wife found you. dressed and wrapped tightly in a blanket by the roadside. His eyes closed as the memories floated back like the tidal waves.

~Flashback, Years ago~

The morning sun slanted through the curtains, golden light spilling onto the polished floors of the Allen estate’s grand living room. A soft breeze whispered through the open window, carrying the scent of fresh dew and blooming lilies from the garden.

The front door creaked open gently.

In stepped a young woman, her skin glowing from the light sheen of sweat from her morning workout. Her ponytail swayed with each step, and in her arms, wrapped in a faded white cloth, she cradled a tiny baby—no more than six months old.

The child blinked sleepily, cheeks plump, lips parted, unaware of the silent storm waiting to unfold.

Maxwell Allen stepped out from the hallway dressed in a sharp pristine suit walking as he adjusted his cufflinks, stopping dead in his tracks as he laid eyes on the infant.

"Lucy?" he asked, brows furrowing, voice laced with confusion. "What’s that... who’s that?"

Lucy Allen turned toward her husband, Maxwell, his expression mixed with disbelief and tension. His eyes darted between the child and his wife. Her calm expression unsettled him.

"I found him," she said softly, gently bouncing the child in her arms as if instinctively calming him. "Along the roadside. Near the trail behind Oakridge."

Maxwell’s eyes widened. "You... found him? Like that? Alone?"

She nodded. "Wrapped in a thin sheet, lying in the shade. No one was around. I waited for an hour, asked around the nearby houses, but... no one knew anything. Not even the vendors on the trail."

Maxwell slowly approached, his gaze dropping to the infant. The baby yawned and cooed softly, one hand curling into a tight little fist near his cheek.

"He’s just a baby," Lucy murmured, her voice cracking with emotion. "Barely six months old, maybe less. He was crying when I found him—his voice hoarse, eyes swollen. He must have been there for hours."

"And you just... picked him up?" Maxwell asked, still trying to make sense of the surreal moment.

Lucy looked up, meeting her husband’s eyes with a questioning gaze. "Would you rather I left him there to die?"

Silence fell.

Maxwell looked away for a long moment, then exhaled slowly. "No. Of course not. It is not that I wanted him to die but taking the child from such spot might have been a set up against you and how could you have defended yourself."

He stepped forward and gently touched the baby’s head. The infant stirred but didn’t cry. Maxwell’s shoulders slumped. "What do we do now?"

"I want us to keep him," Lucy whispered. "Raise him. Give him a name. A home."

Maxwell looked at her sharply, but what he saw in her eyes silenced his doubts: fierce determination, quiet love, and something else... longing.

"We haven’t even had our own child yet," he said after a pause.

"I know," Lucy replied, voice steady. "But maybe... maybe he’s meant to be ours first."

Maxwell ran a hand through his hair, pacing for a moment. Then he stopped, eyes fixed on the baby. "It won’t be easy."

"We’ll make it work," she said. "We’ll handle the paperwork. Adopt him legally. Give him our name and he’ll be one of us."

Maxwell hesitated a beat longer, then slowly nodded. "Alright. We’ll do it. If that’s what you want"

"Really?"Lucy asked, her tone laced with anticipation.

Maxwell nodded yet his expression grim and his hesitant voice "But I think, there will be a challenge. He will be our first son but the Allen family and group he won’t be allowed to handle because he is not of Allen blood. That’s the law with the family." He explained.

"As long as he is alive and well, that’s all that matters." She muttered as relief flooded Lucy’’s face, and she smiled. "Thank you."

They both turned to the baby, who now had fallen into a peaceful sleep in her arms, as though sensing he was finally safe.

"What should we name him?" Maxwell asked softly.

Lucy smiled faintly, brushing a thumb over the baby’s forehead. "Desmond," she said. "Desmond Allen."

And later in the day, with signatures signed and silence kept, Desmond Allen’s place in the family was sealed—not by blood, but by choice.

But what started as an act of compassion had now turned out to become the root of secrets, betrayal... and heartbreak.

~Back to Present~

"I brought you in. I raised you like my own, because I couldn’t allow another child to grow up without guidance."

Jessica, sitting silently until now, felt her chest tighten. She glanced at Davis, whose expression was unreadable. But she could feel his inner storm—his heart torn between fury and pity.

Desmond stood up suddenly, his chair screeching against the tiled floor.

"So you took me in out of pity?" His voice cracked, loud and heavy. "You raised me under your roof, let me believe I was one of you, only to strip it away now?! You’ve lied to me all my life! You’ve robbed me of truth!"

"No," Elder Allen said calmly. "I protected you from a truth I thought would break you too soon. I wanted you to build a life first, not shaped by bitterness or shame. I gave you the Allen name to survive—but never to deceive. You made your choices. You let greed guide you, not love."

Desmond’s jaw trembled. "So what does that make me now? A fraud? A bastard?"

"No!" Elder Allen’s voice boomed, stronger than any in the room expected. "You are Desmond. The boy I raised. The man I watched grow. But you are not the heir to the Allen Group. That title was never yours."

Desmond’s eyes turned to Davis, whose quiet strength remained unshaken.

"This is what you wanted, isn’t it?" Desmond sneered, stepping closer. "You always knew I didn’t belong. You just waited for the day to throw me out."

Davis finally met his gaze. His voice was steady, but each word hit like steel. "I never asked for this. I respected you, called you Uncle. I never knew there was such an existence. But then, I appointed you the Vice president even though my grandfather never told me the reason he kicked against it...But Uncle, what did you do?"

"Repaid me with evil? You dug your own grave."

Jessica blinked slowly, feeling Davis’s words like thunder behind her ribs. He had never said it out loud before. That raw truth. That hurt. And now, it echoed for all to hear.

Desmond turned to Elder Allen, voice desperate now. "You said you wanted to protect me. Then why say this now? Why not die with the secret? Why humiliate me like this?"

Elder Allen shook his head, his voice filled with pain. "Because you left me no choice. The attacks on my life and other persons in the Allen family is getting outrageous... the takeover attempts... your lies and betrayals. You made your ambition more important than the family. The truth had to come out before more harm was done."

Desmond shook his head in disbelief. "So I was nothing more than a shadow? A placeholder?"

"You were never nothing and you had everything but one—the leadership of the group.," The old man said, his voice shaking.

"What else? What now?" Desmond asked icily.

"You were family. But when the time came to pass on the mantle, the truth had to be acknowledged. The Allen Group cannot be led by someone who does not share the bloodline. That is how our ancestors structured it." Elder Allen stated with a touch of finality in his voice.

Davis, still processing everything, leaned forward. "So all this time... all the battles, the sabotage, the betrayal—you did them for a leadership? Now, you are told it was never yours to claim?"

Desmond turned sharply to face him, eyes dark and burning. "What do you know about what I did or why? I earned everything I have. You left. You vanished. And when you returned, you act like you’re the savior of the Allen name."

"I never asked to be a savior," Davis replied. "But now I understand why you fought so hard. Because deep down, you always feared the truth."

Desmond laughed, a hollow sound. "You think this changes anything? I built a foundation here. I built trust, power, loyalty. Bloodline or not, people follow me."

Elder Allen shook his head. "But legacy is not built only on loyalty. It is built on truth."

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