CHAPTER 530: AUNTS LIKE ANTS (4)

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. It was an avalanche of many things washing over the sisters simultaneously. More so about the new person frozen on the screen, which made their heart skip a beat. They were very familiar with how their circles operated, especially in terms of power plays.

That aside, the words lingered in the air like smoke—thick, choking, undeniable.

"According to authenticated court-ordered DNA tests and a confession video from a now-deceased nurse..."

What did that mean? The words were clear as day but confusing as hell!

"...neither of the women claiming to be sisters of the Chairman is biologically related to him or the founding family."

It played again in their heads.

And again....

And again.

Molly blinked, but her eyes remained blank. Her mouth opened, then closed, as if trying to speak, but no words would come. Sally’s hands were trembling, clasped so tightly around her purse that the faux leather cracked under pressure.

"...neither of the women claiming to be sisters..."

The two could still hear it—not just in the host’s voice, but in the audience’s silence, in the way the crew didn’t meet their eyes anymore, in the slight shift of the cameraman’s lens away from them.

’I have never felt such humiliation in my life! Who did this? I have to think of a way out!’ Molly fumed.

The studio was still lit, the camera still rolling, but the stage beneath their feet felt like it was crumbling.

They exchanged a glance—not their usual sharp, conspiring stare—but a lost, glassy-eyed one, full of shock and helpless confusion. A tremor of panic surged in the younger sister’s throat, but it caught there, never making it to her lips.

All they could hear was the echo, like an unfunny joke!

"...neither of the women... neither of the women...

...not related... not related...

...frauds... frauds..."

The air had grown cold, though no one had touched the thermostat. Their dignity—so carefully worn like designer perfume—was slipping fast, as invisible fingers of disgrace tightened around their throats.

And then... the murmurs began.

The whispers, the questions that they wished they could dodge. But then, they had started this, and they had to make sure that they left unscathed!

From the corner of her eyes, Molly could spot a few press beyond the glass wall, who were already stirring. This was all going so wrong even before it had started!

The only question was—would or should they run? Or better still, stay and shatter further?

’Why should I run?’ Molly continued fuming, but Sally was almost frozen solid and did not react for a few short seconds, which felt like forever.

The two sisters knew who this person was. They exchanged glances as for the first time that day, the creeping foreboding feeling washing over them both at the same time grew stronger.

The host, continuing and trying to mask his stunned expression, read off the new rolling details. He had no option in this matter,

"Further, Ian, whom they claim is ’illegitimate’, is in fact the real direct descendant of both the Chairman and his wife, as already known by all."

"WHAT!"

"Molly, what is going on?" Sally whispered, but her sister had no more answers than she did.

Another person, the assistant, walked onto the stage and snatched the evidence from the dazed Molly’s hands. She opened the envelope and pointed to its contents at the rolling cameras: DNA does not match!

This was the time .... It was their trump card, but the two knew without a doubt that it had become the poison that was going to bring them down, and they had started this!

"OMG! What is going on now?"

"Yh, why are they lying if the DNA samples do not match!"

Then the host’s assistant took over the show from her superior. The original host was sweating profusely. After all, how could he not understand what was going on? As a news veteran, he had dealt with his share of such rich shenanigans. What he dreaded next was what was to come for him!

"I know you all have questions, but for any DNA that is run, the involved parties must be the correct ones. Looking at the names on this sheet, it states that the sample is between Master Ian and his aunts..."

Then she paused, as if making the statement sink in.

Molly’s eyes twitched. ’Wait. That couldn’t be—’

But it was.

"Obviously, the tests will not match if the aunts are not blood-related to master Ian! But what did these two decide to do? The ungrateful people wanted to turn white into black! It is obviously them who do not belong to the Thornston Family, but they wanted to turn the tables!"

Silence.

"WTF are you saying?!" Sally screamed, forgetting that they were on live TV. All mannerisms and decorum had been tossed out of the window, and for once, Molly did not bother to correct her!

The real test had been conducted between them, Molly, Sally & Alex, to compare with Ian’s sample, which they had taken pains to get. They had just tried to discredit Ian as illegitimate publicly, but now it made sense why they were the ones exposed instead. The unfolding plan was so flawless that Molly, who had seen through it, did not know how she was to get herself out of it.

Because, apparently, even they had no blood ties to the boy. But even more ridiculous was the fact that neither did they to his father, their supposed brother, Chairman Alex Thornston!

They had overplayed their hand. They had submitted themselves to the one test they could never survive.

Somewhere in the rush to craft a scandal, in their arrogance and fury, they failed to consider the obvious. Ian had always been wary, always protective, powerful and ruthless. The test wasn’t done recently— it had been ordered while he was still around and before the scandal with his wife. The two sisters would have collapsed in tears if they knew that this was Brad’s handiwork and not Ian’s.

And now... on live television, they were nothing but imposters.

Their DNA didn’t match Ian’s —not because he was not the son of the Thornstons’, but because they were not Alex Thornston’s sisters.

Their nephew—wasn’t their nephew.

The silence in the studio thickened.

Eyes turned.

Sally staggered in her seat, nearly falling off the sturdy cushion, the gravity of it finally hitting her bones.

They thought they had cornered a boy into scandal.

Instead, they had walked themselves into a carefully laid trap—designed not by him, but by the very man whose name they had tried to tarnish.

".... So, as you can see, these two ungrateful people who have been paraded as the main Thornston sisters since any of us can remember, turned out to be so ungrateful as to bite the hand that fed them.

They have no claim whatsoever; if they had just enjoyed the luxuries, this secret would have probably been buried forever! Let’s all turn to the screen behind them for the explanation from this woman who has unfortunately passed away a few days ago. She is none other than the chief maid and nanny who had grown up with these two!"

The shaky video of the elderly woman in a hospital bed, voice trembling as she admits switching babies under pressure from a powerful man decades ago.

"I brought them in when they were wee babies. Molly was just a year old, and Sally, a few days old. They were the daughters of a friend and were to be the main heirs. Mr and Mrs Thornston – the old masters did not have any children till almost their old age and longed for one. They did not mind that they were girls and doted on them! We were all cautioned against talking about their heritage.

But a few years after these angels who brought laughter to the mansion, Master Alex was born. As the last of the people who knew of this, I’ve carried the guilt all my life. I saw how they belittled Master Alex’s wife and many other things, but I thought that if they did not go overboard, then it was all okay. But when I heard of this move, I recorded this video, because I know that I have not long to live and I needed to clear Master Ian’s name."

Disappointed looks spread across all of them uniformly, with Molly and Sally still frozen, faces drained of colour, words, and smugness. A slow realization spreads across their faces.

Neither woman claiming to be the Chairman’s sister is biologically related to him..."

The same words.... ’so that’s what they meant...?

Sally’s breath caught, her mind racing back to every smug step they’d taken to get here. Her confidence had been totally shattered!

The camera lights, the neatly tailored suits, the confident smirks—they had been so sure of themselves.

And now?

She started to laugh in a soft, bitter way. It wasn’t madness, but resignation.

One lone tear rolled down her cheek as her body gently trembled with the soundless realization: This was the perfect play.

They had thrown their biggest weapon into the public arena, certain that DNA would tear the young Ian down to pave the way for their sons.

But it had been turned on them—refined, weaponized, and detonated in front of the whole island, LIVE!

"Ladies... is there anything you’d like to say... now?"

___

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