THE BILLIONAIRE STILL WANTS HER!
Chapter 122: About who is the daughter...

Chapter 122: About who is the daughter...

"What are you even saying, Arthur?" Angel’s voice trembled slightly, frustration lacing her words. "I don’t have anything. Not a single thing. Not one common thing that anyone would want!"

Arthur let out a low chuckle, the amusement in his tone making her stomach twist.

He leaned back slightly, folding his arms as if thoroughly entertained by her naivety.

"Now, come to think of it," he mused, tilting his head, "there’s an old saying—if you don’t know the value of what you possess, you’re bound to misuse it. And in your case, Angel, it couldn’t be more fitting. In fact, it’s painfully obvious."

He paused deliberately, letting his words sink in, watching her struggle to process the implications.

Angel’s brows furrowed, her chest tightening. "What are you trying to say, Arthur?"

Arthur exhaled through his nose, shaking his head with a smirk that sent a shiver down her spine.

"You think Tryson truly loves you? That his engagement, his return to you, is driven by nothing but love?" His voice dripped with skepticism, and a sharp scoff followed.

Angel’s lips parted, and she instantly felt the sting of his accusation.

"Yes, Arthur. He does love me. He came back because he cares."

Her words came out firm, but deep within, something twisted—an unfamiliar feeling she refused to acknowledge.

Arthur’s chuckle was darker this time, edged with mockery.

"Oh, Angel. Sweet, oblivious Angel." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Hate to burst your bubble, dear, but it’s not love that’s driving him back to you. It’s power. The power you don’t even realize you hold. The power you’re blind to. And he wants it—at any cost."

Angel’s breath hitched. A flicker of unease crossed her face, but she quickly pushed it aside.

"What are you even talking about? Arthur, are you hallucinating?"

"No, Angel!" Arthur’s voice suddenly rose, sharp and commanding, making her flinch.

His sudden outburst stunned her into silence, her heartbeat drumming against her ribs. But then, as if catching himself, Arthur inhaled deeply, forcing a calm exhale.

He steadied himself before taking a step forward, closing the space between them. His piercing gaze locked onto hers, unrelenting.

"You think he loves you," Arthur continued, his voice eerily composed now, "but the truth is, he’s only using you. You’re Wang Liam’s daughter, Angel. And that means something. That means power. And Tryson? He’ll do whatever it takes to have it."

For a long moment, there was silence. Then, unexpectedly, Angel let out a laugh—a hollow, disbelieving sound.

What was happening?

Arthur had expected Angel to be stunned, perhaps even speechless.

He had braced himself for a look of shock, disbelief—anything but this. Instead, what he got left him momentarily frozen.

She was laughing.

Not a nervous chuckle. Not an amused smirk. But full, unrestrained laughter that echoed through the room.

Arthur narrowed his eyes, his jaw tightening as he watched her clutch her stomach, shaking her head between fits of laughter.

"Oh, really? You think this is funny?" His voice was edged with irritation.

Angel barely managed to nod, struggling to catch her breath.

"You know what?" she said between giggles. "I can believe a lot of things, Arthur, but the idea that I’m Wang Liam’s daughter? That’s just ridiculous."

Her amusement only deepened as she spoke, as if the very thought was beyond absurd.

Arthur leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs as he observed her. She really wasn’t going to believe it.

Typical. But he was ready for this.

He had proof.

With a sharp, commanding tone, he turned toward the men stationed within the room. "Bring it in."

At his order, one of the men stepped forward, a brown envelope in hand. Without even sparing a glance at its contents, Arthur took it and extended it toward Angel.

"I want you to take a look at this." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Angel hesitated.

Her fingers brushed against the envelope as she took it, gripping it tighter than necessary. A war raged within her—curiosity gnawing at her insides, demanding answers.

What could possibly be inside?

Her heart pounded against her chest as memories of Wang Liam surfaced in her mind.

The man was a legend. Even after his death, his name still commanded power, respect, and wealth. He was one of the richest men in the country—a figure whose legacy remained untouchable.

And now... Arthur was telling her that she was his daughter?

It didn’t make sense. It felt impossible.

Had she been living under a lie all this time?

Why had her father never told her? And more importantly—her mother...

Had she known?

If so, why had she kept it a secret?

The questions came flooding in, suffocating, relentless. And yet, as much as she wanted to dismiss it all, she couldn’t shake the growing fear in her gut.

What if... what if Arthur wasn’t lying?

What if everything she thought she knew about her life was about to change forever?

She had been born into wealth, raised in luxury, and was the undeniable carbon copy of her mother.

So how could it possibly be true? How could she—Angel—be the daughter of the former president?

"This... this can’t be true." The words barely left her lips, nothing more than a shaken whisper.

Her fingers trembled as she pulled the document from the envelope, her breath hitching the moment her eyes landed on it.

Her heart pounded violently against her ribs.

She had expected a lie, a forgery—some twisted scheme of Arthur’s. But what she saw sent a chilling wave through her entire body.

It was a DNA report.

Her name was printed clearly, followed by another: Wang Liam.

And then, the match—100% compatibility.

The paper suddenly felt heavier in her hands, as if it carried the weight of an entirely new reality—one she wasn’t prepared for.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze, locking eyes with Arthur.

The amusement was gone from his expression. Instead, he watched her with something unreadable, as if waiting for her to fully understand.

A deep sense of confusion clawed at her insides, twisting into something dangerously close to fear.

"This doesn’t make any sense," she murmured, her voice unsteady. She could barely recognize the sound of it anymore. "Are you trying to tell me that my biological father... isn’t really my father?"

Her own words sent a shiver through her.

Because deep down, she already knew the answer.

And that terrified her.

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