Reborn As Mr. Coldwell's Wife
Chapter 207: Family Secrets

Chapter 207: Family Secrets

Mason’s jaw was tight as he held the steering wheel, staring straight ahead while driving to the police station. He hadn’t wanted to bring Ellen along, feeling that it might be too much for her, especially after everything they’d been through. But Ellen had insisted, telling him that she needed to see this person for herself. Whoever this intruder was, she wanted answers just as much as he did.

The phone call from the police was short but totally shocking—they had finally caught the man responsible for breaking into their house. Just thinking about confronting the person who had invaded their home made her feel both relieved and anxious.

Once they arrived, Mason parked the car, took a deep breath, and glanced over at Ellen. She was already unbuckling her seatbelt. With a nod, they got out, and they walked side by side into the station.

Inside, a police officer greeted them and quickly guided them through a series of corridors. The officer finally led them to a small, sterile room. Through the observation window, they could see a man seated calmly on the other side of the glass. He looked young, perhaps in his twenties, with messy brown hair and a slim build.

He was wearing that classic orange prison jumpsuit, and yet his face wore a strange, unsettling smile, looking totally relaxed, like breaking into their house was no big deal—like they were just grabbing coffee instead of dealing with police.

Mason’s lips pressed into a thin line as he pushed the door open, and Ellen followed close behind. The man’s eyes lit up as they entered, his expression not one of fear or remorse but of amusement. He sat there, watching them with a satisfied smirk.

They took seats across from him, and Mason wasted no time. "Who the hell are you?" Mason demanded. "What were you doing in my house? What do you want?"

The man leaned back, his smile widening, and looked directly at Mason before shifting his gaze to Ellen. "Well, well. What a shame we had to meet under such unfortunate circumstances."

Mason’s patience snapped as he slammed his hand onto the table. "Answer the question!" he barked.

The man’s face shifted, his cheerful expression fading into something darker. He locked eyes with Mason, his voice dropping to a cold, mocking tone. "Why don’t you ask your mother?" he sneered. "Aw, my bad. She’s probably already nothing but a skeleton, or maybe just nothing, down there in the ground."

Mason’s whole body tensed, and a flash of pain and anger crossed his face. He leaned forward, fury radiating from him. "Don’t you dare bring my mother into this," he warned.

The man tilted his head, faking innocence before a slow, creepy smile formed. "Oh, I’m sorry," he said with a teasing sparkle in his eye. "I got that wrong. I meant to say our mother."

Ellen’s hand gripped the edge of her chair, her fingers digging into the fabric as the man’s words hit her hard. She looked from the man to Mason, her mind racing.

Mason’s face showed a brief flicker of confusion, followed by shock. "What... what are you talking about?"

He leaned a bit closer. "My name is Hans Beckett," he said. "My father is Adrian Beckett." He paused, watching Mason’s reaction, clearly savoring the moment. "And my mother," he added, his smirk getting bigger as he dragged out the words, "is Margaret Coldwell."

Mason’s face went pale, and his eyes got really wide with shock. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Ellen stared at Mason, seeing the shock and confusion settle in as he worked through what Hans was saying.

Hans leaned back, a look of smug satisfaction spreading across his face as he watched Mason struggle. "Surprised?" he said with a mocking tone, faking concern. "Go for it, Mason. Why don’t you give your long-lost brother a hug?"

Mason’s fists clenched tightly, his whole body tense like he was one step away from losing it.

"Brother?" Mason finally blurted out, the word full of doubt. "What the heck are you saying, you freak?"

"Wow, you’re really fired up—definitely not the cute little Mason I remember from years ago."

"I’ve never met you, you weirdo."

"Is that so? I guess age really does mess with your memories, huh?" Hans chuckled, glancing around the room as if hoping someone would nod along. But the cops in the room just shot him a serious look.

"Enough with the nonsense! Just tell me what you were doing breaking into my house and sending threats to my wife!"

Hans let out a low, mocking laugh that made Ellen shiver. "Oh, I assure you, I’m very much telling the truth." He turned to Ellen and flashed a sickly sweet smile that made her stomach turn. "I suppose that makes you family too, doesn’t it, Ellen? I mean, assuming you’re still around."

The way he said it... he was the one really trying to end her life.

Mason stood up abruptly, his fists still clenched. "You’re not my brother," he spat, his voice filled with disgust. "I don’t know what game you’re playing, but this... this is sick."

Hans just chuckled, his sharp eyes locking onto Mason’s in a way that felt really off. "Believe what you want," he said with a shrug. "But your past isn’t as simple as you think, Mason. Our mother, dear Margaret, had quite a few secrets."

Ellen looked over at Mason, worry written all over her face when she noticed the conflict in his eyes. She could see that Hans’s words had hit a nerve, stirring up something Mason wasn’t ready to face.

"I don’t care what you say," Mason growled. "Just keep that nonsense to yourself."

Hans’s smile faded, his expression growing darker, more intense. "Oh, but I’m just getting started, little brother," he whispered. "I have no intention to keep everything for myself. You need to know what your sweet, loving mom does behind your back."