🎬 Part 2: The True Identity and the Iron Verdict
The sound of shattering crystal snapped Madam Alisa out of her paralysis. Ignoring the sharp shards of glass cutting into the floor beneath her, she dropped to both knees directly in front of the ragged child.
Inside the silver pocket watch, beneath a layer of smudged glass, was a wedding photo of herself from eight years ago. Right below the photograph, a small, exquisite handwritten inscription read: "To Logan – My only son." That inscription, that photograph—it was the sole remaining keepsake of her boy, who had been kidnapped at just three years old. It represented the agonizing void she had spent her entire fortune trying to fill for years in utter desperation.
Alisa’s hand, adorned with expensive diamond rings, trembled violently as she reached out to gently touch a small, crescent-shaped scar on the boy’s eyebrow. Her voice cracked, choking back tears: "This scar... this watch... Logan? Is it really you, my Logan?"
Looking at the beautiful woman before him and feeling her hot tears falling onto his hands, the boy felt faint memories from a distant childhood rush back like a roaring tidal wave. Gazing into her eyes, he burst into a loud sob and threw himself into her arms: "Mom... Mommy! I finally found you!"
Madam Alisa held her frail, skinny son tightly against her chest, completely unbothered as the dirt from his skin stained her designer evening gown. She sobbed uncontrollably—a cry that carried all the pain, regret, and profound happiness of a mother reunited with her own flesh and blood.
The surrounding crowd fell into absolute silence. The elitists who had been whispering in disgust moments ago now turned pale with fear. The woman in the grey dress—the one who had just humiliated the boy—stood frozen in place, her lips trembling as her luxury clutch dropped to the floor with a thud. She knew, with chilling certainty, that she had just single-handedly plunged her family business into a bottomless abyss.
"Ma... Madam Alisa..." the woman in grey stammered, her voice dripping with terror. "I... I didn't know this boy was... I only wanted to maintain order for your gala, Madam..."
Still clutching her son tightly, Madam Alisa stood up abruptly. In an instant, the grieving mother's tears vanished, replaced by the cold, razor-sharp gaze of an unyielding queen looking dead at the woman in grey.
"What did you just call the sole heir to the Alisa Empire?" Alisa’s voice rang out like iron through the ballroom, stripped of any warmth. "A beggar? Ragged? A thief?"
"I was wrong! Please show mercy and forgive me, Madam! I truly did not know!" The woman in grey collapsed to her knees, desperately clawing at the hem of Alisa’s gown, weeping and begging for mercy.
Alisa took a step back, dodging the pathetic touch. She turned to her stern assistant standing right behind her and delivered her irreversible verdict: "Cancel all investment projects and business contracts with this woman's company. By tomorrow morning, I want to see her business bankrupt. Furthermore, notify the entire business community: Anyone who dares to help or cooperate with her will be declared a lifelong enemy of the Alisa Group!"
Alisa's words landed like a death sentence, sealing the fate of the woman in grey. She slumped onto the floor, her eyes going blank as she realized she had lost absolutely everything.
"Security, drag her out. Throw her out into the rain immediately!" Alisa commanded. The two security guards who had previously aimed to seize the little boy quickly grabbed the woman in grey, dragging her away in utter shame and humiliation in front of hundreds of flashing camera lenses.
May you like
The ballroom returned to its quiet state, but the atmosphere had shifted entirely. Madam Alisa unbuttoned her warm, plush feather coat and gently wrapped it around Logan's shivering body. She lifted her son up in her arms, resting his face against her shoulder, and walked straight out toward the waiting Rolls-Royce.
From this night onward, the street child mocked by the world had officially returned to his throne as a prince. Justice may be delayed, but maternal love and swift retribution never miss their mark.
