Betrayed By Blood: The True Heir's Revenge

I thought being rescued from the kidnapper's basement after eight years was the end of my hell, but it was just the beginning.

My father, the powerful Underboss Derek McCall, looked at my twelve-year-old face and saw only the monster who had held us captive. He was convinced I was the byproduct of his wife's assault, calling me "pollution" in his pristine bloodline.

Life at the estate was a nightmare. I was forced to scrub floors while his stepdaughter, Kylie, lived like a princess.

When I was starving, Derek caught me eating from the garbage and mocked me.

When Kylie ordered a Doberman to maul me, tearing my leg apart on the manicured lawn, he just watched and told the guards to stitch me up without anesthesia.

Yet, when he was dying from a gunshot wound and the hospital was out of blood, I was the one who stepped up.

I gave two pints of my blood to save him, hoping he would finally see me.

He didn't.

The moment he was stable, his mother kicked me out of the house, handing me over to social services like unwanted trash.

They didn't realize until the car drove away that the medical file on the table held a secret.

My blood wasn't dirty. The DNA was a 99.9% match.

I wasn't the kidnapper's child. I was his.

When they finally came begging for forgiveness years later, I didn't offer a hug.

I handed them an eviction notice.