Chapter 273: Are You Really a Member of the Cooper Family?

Chapter 273: Are You Really a Member of the Cooper Family?

I took two steps forward, my dress trailing softly across the stone floor.

"I heard every word you said in there. You said Daniel forged evidence. You said you were wronged."

I stopped in front of Jonathan, less than a meter away.

"Let me ask you a question."

His eyes flickered.

"What's your name?"

The hallway went quiet for two seconds. He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It's a simple question." I looked into his eyes. "Your name is Jonathan. Last name Cooper. A member of the Cooper family."

I paused.

"But are you really part of the Cooper family?"

Everyone's expression in the hallway changed.

Layla's face didn't change gradually—it happened all at once, like someone had flipped off a light switch. The smile still hung at the corners of her mouth, but everything in her eyes had changed.

"Sophia, what are you talking about?" She took half a step forward, her voice still in that gentle tone, but her fingers had already grabbed Thomas's sleeve.

"Of course Jonathan is part of the Cooper family. He's Thomas's son. Does that even need to be said?"

I didn't look at her. I turned to Noah. He pulled a manila envelope from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to me.

I took it, opened it, and pulled out the documents inside. A4 paper, three pages.

The first page was a paternity test report. The testing agency was Midland Forensic Identification Center, stamped with a red seal, complete with reference number, date, and signatures. Test subjects: Thomas, Jonathan. Conclusion: Paternity excluded.

I held up the report, right in front of Jonathan's face.

"This test was done three weeks ago. The samples came from Jonathan's blood sample left at the hospital during last year's physical exam, and Thomas's hair, extracted from the pillow in his hospital room during his last stay."

My voice was steady.

"Jonathan is not Thomas's son."

The hallway felt like all the air had been sucked out. Thomas's cane slipped from his hand, and he staggered back half a step.

"Nonsense." His voice was dry. "This is fake."

"Fake?" I turned to the second page.

The second page was a series of bank transfer records.

"Over the past seven years, Layla has transferred over twenty-three million dollars of Cooper family assets through six different offshore accounts. One of those transfers—eight million dollars—ultimately went to an investment company registered abroad."

I looked up.

"The actual controller of that company is a man named Ralph Coleman."

Layla's face went completely white.

"Ralph, forty-seven years old, in the import-export business. Twenty-six years ago, he spent three years in Midland, in the same business association circle as Layla."

I turned to the third page.

"This is the paternity test report for Ralph and Jonathan. The sample came from Ralph's full body checkup in Singapore last year."

I held up that page. The conclusion was just one line.

Paternity confirmed. Probability: 99.97%.

No one in the hallway spoke.

Jonathan stood there, the color draining from his face bit by bit. His lips were trembling—not the fake kind, but real trembling.

"This can't be." His voice was soft, as if talking to himself. "It can't be..."

He suddenly turned to Layla.

"Mom!"

Layla's body swayed. She instinctively stepped back, bumping into Thomas's cane, and both of them stumbled.

"Thomas, don't listen to her." Layla grabbed Thomas's arm, her voice starting to shake. "This is forged! She's getting revenge on us! Jonathan is your son—look at his face, he looks like you!"

"Enough."

Henry's voice came from behind. Not loud, but everyone shut their mouths.

His hand was propped on his cane, his body leaning forward toward Sophia, barely able to stand. Luke quickly walked over and brought a chair from the side, placing it behind him.

He didn't sit down right away. He looked at Layla for a long time.

"Layla."

Layla's fingers dug into Thomas's sleeve, her nails sinking into the fabric.

"The things I had Daniel investigate—I wasn't planning to bring them up here today."

Henry's voice was slow.

"But you insisted on coming."

He finally sat down, heavily, the chair legs sliding on the stone floor.

"Twenty-three million dollars. Seven years. Six accounts."

He looked up at Thomas.

"Did you know?"

Thomas's face went completely pale. His mouth hung open, his Adam's apple bobbing several times, but no sound came out.

Noah stepped forward, took the documents from my hand, bent down, and spread the three pages out one by one on the floor in front of Thomas. The three pages lay side by side, like three verdicts.

"Thomas." He straightened up, sliding his hands back into his pockets. "This is the person you brought to 'apologize' to my sister."

He looked down at the three pages on the floor.

"Someone with no blood relation to you, using your name, spending your family's money, trampling on your dignity, and living in Midland for over twenty years."

Thomas's knees buckled. He didn't fall to his knees, but his whole center of gravity had collapsed. If not for the cane supporting him, he might have actually fallen.

"This can't be true..." His voice sounded like it was coming from underwater. "Layla, tell me this isn't true."

Layla's hand released his sleeve.

She stepped back once, then again, until she hit the hallway wall.

She didn't cry, didn't explain, didn't make any sound.

She just stood there, looking at Thomas's face, something complicated flashing in her eyes. Not fear, not guilt, but more like relief.

Jonathan rushed forward two steps, snatched up the paternity report from the floor, gripping the edges with both hands, and read it from start to finish. After reading it, he crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it hard on the ground.

"It's fake! All fake! I don't believe it! I want to do another test!"

"Sure." Daniel's voice came from the side. "You can redo it anytime. The forensic identification center is open twenty-four hours. If you want to go, I'll have someone take you there right now."

His mouth hung open, like a fish thrown onto shore.

At the end of the hallway, behind the side door, at least seven or eight guests were looking this way. Some had already pulled out their phones.

Henry sat in the chair, leaning on his cane, and slowly stood up. He walked up to Thomas and looked down at him.

"Thomas, let me ask you one last question."

Thomas looked up, his eyes red.

"For over twenty years, you never believed me. Haven't you been fooled enough yet?"