Surprise Husband You Raised My Heir Chapter 2

To ensure his narrative stuck, Richard motioned to the AV team. The massive screens, previously showing the Morton Corp logo, flickered to display a grainy, decades-old security video from the maternity ward, supposedly proving he had swapped the newborns.

The ballroom erupted.

Whispers turned to harsh murmurs. For twenty-five years, society had viewed Richard as the fortunate man who married into the Morton dynasty, a man who swallowed his pride for a corner office. Now, the room was convinced this "trophy husband" had spent two decades playing a long, venomous game of chess, waiting for the exact moment the inheritance was finalized. The judgment in the room was palpable; people were openly sneering at him.

Seeing the tide turning against him, Monica immediately activated her performance. She gasped, a delicate hand flying to her mouth, her eyes widening in a flawless cocktail of shock and maternal joy.

Anyone looking at her would think she was furious at Richard's rogue actions, yet profoundly overwhelmed to discover her biological son was this brilliant, handsome CEO. It was a masterpiece of a reaction. She must have rehearsed it in her vanity mirror for months.

"Richard, what have you done?!" Monica wailed, her voice trembling. "You felt sorry for your nephew, yes, but to steal a child? To me, the boy I raised is my son, no matter what. But Coral... she is a businesswoman. How could a woman like her ever accept something so horrific?"

Helen, my mother-in-law, was practically pinching her own leg to stop herself from smiling.

"What's done is done," Helen announced, waving a dismissive hand. "There's no point pointing fingers now. If you ask me, this is a blessing. Coral's biological child is severely disabled and cannot run a corporation. Thomas is brilliant. It’s a perfect fit. And since the Mortons and our family are united by marriage anyway, the money stays in the same house. What's the difference?"

My parents, the formidable founders of Morton Corp, were trembling with rage.

My father stepped forward and delivered a resounding backhand across Richard’s face. The smack echoed like a gunshot.

"Do not insult our intelligence, Richard," my father hissed. "Drop the martyr act. You swapped those boys to hijack the Morton empire. If this was about a guilty conscience, you would have confessed years ago. You waited specifically for the day Thomas took full legal control of the trust. You make me sick."