CHAPTER 198

CHAPTER 198
Mateo drove like a man being chased.

The city lights blurred past him as his grip tightened on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched so hard it ached. He barely noticed the traffic signals, barely registered the honks from other drivers as he cut through lanes with reckless precision. His mind wasn’t on the road. It was still trapped in a small doctor’s office, replaying words that refused to make sense.

There’s something we need to talk about.

The memory dragged him back.

When the doctor had called him aside earlier at the hospital, Mateo had followed him with a tight knot already forming in his stomach. He’d sat across from the man, hands clasped together, his foot tapping uncontrollably against the floor.

“Did you find something?” Mateo had asked immediately. “Is there a problem with my blood?”

The doctor had studied him carefully before answering. “We did find something. But it’s not what you’re thinking.”

Mateo’s chest tightened. “Am I sick? Terminally ill? Am I dying?”

“No,” the doctor said quickly. “Nothing like that.”

Mateo exhaled sharply, only to tense again when the doctor continued.

“How long have you known Miss Viviana Cole?”

The question caught him off guard. “A few months,” Mateo replied slowly. “She’s… she’s my girlfriend’s adopted sister.”

The doctor nodded. “Your blood type is extremely rare. Rare enough that it’s unusual to find even one compatible donor in a hospital system.”

Mateo frowned. “I know that. My family makes me do yearly blood bank deposits for in case something happened and I need to have a transfusion. I’m also surprised Viviana carries the same type of blood.”

“Yes,” the doctor said. “And that’s exactly the point. It’s even rarer to find two people who are not biologically related, in the same place, sharing this blood type.”

Mateo leaned forward. “I don’t understand where you’re going with this.”

“When we ran your tests,” the doctor continued, “and compared them with Miss Viviana’s, we noticed something else. Certain genetic markers in your blood were… strikingly similar.”

The room had gone very still.

“What does that mean?” Mateo asked carefully.

“It doesn’t mean anything definitive yet,” the doctor said. “But there is a possibility you could be related. Potentially siblings.”

The word had hit him like a blow.

“That’s not possible,” Mateo said. “We’re not…”

“I’m not saying it’s confirmed,” the doctor interrupted gently. “But it’s significant enough that I would recommend a DNA test.”

Mateo remembered staring at the desk, his thoughts racing. “If we do the test,” he’d asked, “will it give us answers?”

“Yes,” the doctor said. “One way or another.”

“Then do it,” Mateo had said. “Run the test.”

Now, as he sped through the city toward the Cruz mansion, that same question echoed in his head.

What if it’s true?

He had left the hospital without explanation, telling Amelia and Vincent only that something urgent had come up, that he needed to see his parents immediately. He hadn’t trusted himself to say more. Not without knowing the truth.

The gates of the Cruz mansion opened as his car pulled in, tires screeching slightly as he braked harder than necessary. He barely shut the door before striding toward the house.

Inside, the lights were on.

Samantha Cruz was the first to appear, her face lined with worry the moment she saw him. Philippe followed close behind, his brows drawn together.

“Mateo,” Samantha said urgently, pulling him into a brief embrace. “What’s wrong? You scared us. Is Amelia okay?”

“She’s fine,” Mateo said quickly, stepping back. “This isn’t about her.”

Philippe studied his son carefully. “Then what is it?”

Mateo swallowed. His heart pounded so loudly he was sure they could hear it.

He didn’t soften the question. Didn’t circle around it.

“Mom,” he said. “Dad.”

They both looked at him, waiting.

“Am I adopted?”

The room went dead silent.

Samantha stared at him as if she hadn’t heard correctly. “What?”

“Why would you ask that?” Philippe demanded.

Mateo ran a hand through his hair, his voice tight. “A doctor just told me I might be related to Viviana Cole. That our blood markers are similar. That we could be siblings.”

Samantha’s face drained of color.

“So tell me,” Mateo said, his voice rising despite himself. “Does that mean I’m adopted too?”

Neither of them answered immediately.

Philippe let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair.

“Mateo, this doesn’t make any sense,” he said firmly. “Why would you even think something like that? Who is this doctor filling your head with nonsense?”

He stepped closer, his voice gaining strength, certainty. “I watched your mother carry you for nine months. I took her to every appointment. I was there the night you were born. I held you before anyone else did.”

He shook his head. “You are my son. There is no question about that.”

Mateo swallowed. “Then how does a doctor look at my blood and Viviana’s blood and say we might be related?”

Philippe turned sharply. “How did that hospital even get your blood in the first place?”

Mateo answered quietly. “Viviana needed a transfusion. She has a rare blood type. The same one I have. I donated.”

Philippe froze for a second, then scoffed. “Then there’s your answer. A coincidence. A lab mistake. Those things happen.”

He turned toward Samantha. “Tell him. Tell him you carried him for nine months so we can put an end to this.”

But Samantha hadn’t moved.

She had walked slowly to the couch and sat down, one hand pressed to her chest, the other gripping the edge of the cushion. Her face had gone pale, her breathing uneven.

Philippe frowned. “Samantha?”

No response.

“Sam,” he said again, softer now. “What’s wrong?”

Mateo’s heart began to pound. “Mom?”

She lifted her eyes to him, and when she did, tears spilled over.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

The words landed like a crack through glass.

Philippe stared at her. “Sorry for what?”

“I didn’t mean to lie,” Samantha said, her voice breaking. “I never thought it would come out like this.” I thought I would never see her again.”

Philippe rushed to her, pulling her into his arms. “You’re not making sense. What are you talking about?”

She clutched his shirt, sobbing now. “I’m so sorry. I thought I was protecting everyone.”

Mateo stood frozen, his chest tight, his world tilting.

“Mom,” he said hoarsely. “What didn’t you tell us?”

Samantha looked up at him, her face shattered with guilt.