My Perfect Marriage Was His Perfect Crime novel Chapter 61

Tiffany froze in place, stunned by his words.

She turned to Peter, her eyes welling with tears.

Peter frowned. "Patrick, stop acting out."

"Dad knows it's hard for you to accept, but this is the truth. You're an adult now, and you're also a major shareholder in the Morgan family. You need to handle this rationally."

Tiffany clung to Peter's sleeve, looking at Patrick with hopeful eyes. "Son, are you mad at Mommy? Mommy had her reasons."

She sniffled, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Your dad and I fell in love at first sight, but we were so poor back then. We couldn't give you a good life."

"After thinking it over, to give you a better future, I had no choice but to let you live with that thief who stole your father from me."

She pointed at me, and then, like flipping a switch, smiled at Patrick. "But now things are different."

"My son has succeeded, and now he's inherited the Morgan family business. Our family of three can finally be reunited!"

Patrick rolled his eyes. "So you want me to thank you for your great intentions?"

"My mother worked hard to raise me for eighteen years and even entrusted the Morgan family business to me.

Now, you want me to abandon her and use the wealth she gave me to support you and your future?"

He let out a cold laugh. "Even computers aren't as good at calculating as you two."

Tiffany was caught off guard, her words dying in her throat, and the smile froze on her face.

Peter Jordan snapped angrily, "How dare you speak like that? She's your real mother!

The bond between you two is unbreakable. Have you thrown all the books you've read into the trash?"

"Apologize now!"

I had originally intended to tease this pair of scoundrels a little more, but when they insisted on severing ties between me and my son, I could no longer hold back.

I spoke nonchalantly, "Do you have any evidence to say that Patrick isn't my son?"

I scanned the room, taking note of the media present, and then gently pinched Patrick's cheek.

Patrick, ever the cooperative son, bent down to be on my level, his towering figure of almost six and a half feet mirroring my face.