No Forgiveness For My Bloodline

Start Reading

On the day of my engagement to the wealthiest heiress in the city, my father stood on the stage, smiled warmly into the microphone, and said:

To be honest, my son used to make amateur adult videos online. A different partner in every tape. Im just glad he finally found a sucker to take him off our hands.

I stared at him, my mind blank with disbelief.

But Gwen Dewitt simply stepped in front of me, shielding me from the whispering crowd. "Mr. Dunbar," she said, her voice cool and steady, "please don't make jokes like that again."

Later, in private, my father offered a half-hearted shrug. "I only wanted to see if her devotion to you was real."

But on the night before the wedding, I ate the dinner my father had personally cooked for me.

When I next opened my eyes, I was lying in a bed next to my brothers girlfriend, Sasha Lawson.

Gwen, who had come to pick me up for the ceremony, walked into the room. Her eyes turned instantly red. "So," she whispered, "your father wasn't lying after all."

My younger brother, Charlie, burst into tears and slapped Sasha across the face. "How could you do this to me?"

In the end, the groom at the altar was Charlie.

Sasha burned every piece of clothing that carried my scent. "I have never met a man as pathetic as you," she spat. "Willing to sleep with your own brother's girl!"

I looked at my father, tears streaming down my face, begging for him to speak the truth. He remained entirely unmoved. "Your brother," he said quietly, "is simply better suited to be the husband of the Dewitt heir."

Twenty years later, the citys newest rising starmy daughter, Ameliabrought her boyfriend to meet me.

"Dad, if you approve of him, were getting engaged."

I looked at the boy standing beside her. He had the exact same face as my brother Charlie.

"I don't approve," I said.

The words I dont approve rippled through the banquet hall.

A sudden, suffocating silence fell over the guests.

My brothers son, Gary, had taken his mothers last nameDewitt. He was a prestigious graduate of the Berklee College of Music. Six feet tall, slender, and striking. His father was a well-known socialite, his mother was the former wealthiest woman in the city, and his grandfather was a celebrated national philanthropist.

Even Amelia looked stunned. "Dad... when I talked about Gary before, you seemed so supportive. What changed?"

"I liked the idea of him," I said, taking a slow sip of my tea. "Now that I see him, I don't."

A murmur of unease spread through the room.

Physically, Gary was a carbon copy of my brother. Back at Berklee, he had been the golden boy, adored by everyone. He had clearly never experienced rejection of this scale.

His face flushed a deep, angry red. "Mr. Morgan, is it my manners? My clothes? Something else? Just tell me, and I will change it!"

"You don't need to change anything," I replied, setting my teacup down with a soft click. "But you will never step foot into the Morgan family."

"Mr. Morgan," someone in the crowd intervened, unable to hold back. "Perhaps you haven't heard of Garys grandfather. Hes a world-renowned philanthropist who has dedicated his life to helping the less fortunate."

"Yes, indeed," another guest chimed in. "The boy was raised by the finest families. You don't need to worry about his character."

I let out a quiet, bitter breath.

So my father had poured all his care into Charlies child, too.

Amelia looked at me, her eyes filled with quiet curiosity. "Dad... did Gary do something to upset you?"

"It has nothing to do with him," I said flatly.

Gary snapped. "Then why? What right do you have to bar me from your family? Tell me what's wrong with me! Just saying 'no' is... its..."

I looked him dead in the eye. "Its what?"

"Its not fair!" he shouted.

I narrowed my eyes. "I am the sole owner of Morgan Enterprises. Why should I have to submit a report to you on who I choose as my son-in-law?"

"You!"

Fuming, Gary spun on his heel and stormed out of the hall, slamming the double doors behind him.

I remained seated, calmly drinking my tea. The banquet resumed, and no one dared to bring up the subject again. No one wanted to cross me on my own turf.

Amelia, whom I had raised single-handed, had always respected my decisions. Toward the end of the evening, she leaned in and murmured, "Dad, if he ever did anything to hurt you in the past, don't keep it bottled up. It's not worth your health."

I smiled but said nothing.

But as the guests were starting to leave, the heavy doors were thrown open once more.

"Where is David Morgan?!"

Twenty years ago, I legally cut ties with the Dunbar family and took my mother's maiden name, Morgan.

My brother, Charlie Dunbar, stood in the doorway. He looked much the same as he did twenty years ago, though his hair was parted with absolute precision and his face carried the heavy, settled look of middle age.

When his eyes met mine, he froze.

A few seconds passed, and then a mocking smile spread across his lips.

"Amelias father... is you?"

I didn't answer.

"Dear brother," Charlie said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "They said you never married. I didn't realize you managed to produce a child out of wedlock."

"Is there something you want, Mr. Dunbar?" I asked.

Charlie finally remembered why he had stormed in. His expression darkened. "Gary came home in tears."

"Okay."

"Don't you think you're being pathetic?" Charlie sneered, taking a step toward me. "You couldn't beat me back then, so now you're taking your revenge out on an innocent kid?"

I only smiled.

"David," Charlie said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Don't think that being a billionaire gives you the right to do whatever you want. Don't forget, my wife was once the wealthiest woman in this city. And Garys grandfatherour fatheris a saint compared to you."

I sat comfortably at the head table. "And? Are you saying your family gets to dictate who my daughter marries?"

"I..." Charlie clenched his fists. "I'm just telling you not to push your luck!"

"You crashed my private event to force me to accept your son," I said, my voice turning icy. "Who is pushing whose luck?"

Charlie bit his lip. He was used to everyone bowing to him because of Gwen and our father.

My silence was a luxury he wasn't going to get.

I gave a slight nod to the security team. Two large men immediately stepped forward, grabbing Charlie by his arms.

"David Morgan! How dare you have your men touch me!" Charlie panicked, his dignified facade instantly cracking.

I didn't even look up as they dragged him out. Charlie had never looked so pathetic, flailing between two guards as they hauled him toward the exit.

"David! You've gone too far! You'll pay for this!"

The heavy doors shut, cutting off his pathetic screams.

I wiped my hands with a linen napkin, stood up, and bowed slightly to the remaining guests.

"My apologies for the interruption. I've prepared a small parting gift for everyone, which you can collect from the butler on your way out. Have a wonderful evening."

With that, I walked out of the hall, Amelia following closely behind.

The next morning, before I had even finished my coffee, the front gate security called.

When the front door opened, I found myself face-to-face with Gwen Dewitt.

It had been exactly twenty years since we last looked at each other.

"I'm here about my husband and son," Gwen said, skipping any polite pleasantries. She looked around the expansive foyer of my estate, a flicker of regret crossing her eyes. "So, you really built all of this by yourself?"

"Did you think someone was going to help me?" I asked, my voice dry.

Her gaze lingered on my face, and she let out a soft sigh. "What happened back then... I admit I was too rash."

"And who exactly are you here for, Ms. Dewitt?"

Gwen choked on her breath. The boy who used to cling to her arm, calling her his whole world, was long gone. In his place was a cold, impenetrable man.

She sighed again. "Those two have been spoiled by me. You know how much Charlie and his father adore them. Your cruelty yesterday has devastated them. Neither of them has eaten a bite since."

"Cruelty?" I set my coffee cup down, staring directly into her eyes. "Ms. Dewitt, do I no longer have the right to manage my own household?"

"Its not that..." Gwen hesitated. "But anyone with eyes can see what you're doing. You're taking your revenge."

I smiled. "If that's how you want to see it, then yes. I admit it."

"But your anger is with me, isn't it? Because I didn't marry you?" Gwens voice grew desperate. "What happened is in the past. If you want to punish someone, punish me! Don't take it out on my family! Tell me what you want. If you let Gary marry Amelia, I will sign my entire estate over to you."

I looked at her, genuinely surprised. Then, I laughed.

"Gwen. You built your empire from nothing."

She stiffened, turning her head away.

"You swore you would never go back to being poor," I continued. "And now you're willing to throw away everything you built? For them?"

Gwen closed her eyes, her shoulders dropping. "They... are more important to me than money."

A bitter pang went through my chest.

She had said those exact words to me once.

In the end, I had my security escort her out. As she walked down the driveway, she kept looking back.

"Can we really not talk about this? Im not joking about the compensation, David."

"Please. They are so heartbroken."

I watched her through the window.

And what about me? I thought. What about the twenty-four-year-old boy who knelt on the floor, begging you to believe he was set up, sobbing until he couldn't breathe? Who comforted him?

Not long after Gwen left, my assistant knocked again.

When the door opened this time, we both froze.

It was Sasha Lawson.

The woman I had allegedly ruined. My brothers former girlfriend.

Like me, she had spent the last twenty years in solitude.

Sasha had never married.

"I didn't think you'd show up here," I said, gesturing for her to sit.

Sasha sat across from me, her eyes sweeping over the quiet grandeur of my home before finally settling on me.

"I didn't realize you were so obsessive," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Amelia. I only found out yesterday that she is your daughter."

I remained silent.

"The night of the setup?" she asked softly.

I knew what she was referring to. The night my father had drugged me and placed me in her bed.

I shook my head. "I didn't do it, Sasha."

She sighed, a weary smile touching her lips. "You don't have to deny it anymore. I understand."

"I really didn't."

She looked at me, her expression a mix of pity and exasperation. "You've always been stubborn, David. But you must know... the reason I've stayed single all these years is because of you."

I took a slow sip of my coffee and said nothing.

"Targeting Gary and Charlie... honestly, it's a bit much," she continued.

"Are you trying to dictate my family affairs too?" I asked, my voice dropping an octave.

She let out a long, heavy breath. "David. Legally and biologically speaking, Amelia is my daughter. This is my family affair too."

"I told you, she isn't your daughter."

Sasha stared at me. "David, I have eyes. That girl looks just like me."

I couldn't help but laugh. Sasha was a woman of sharp, striking features. Amelia had a similar, elegant bone structure.

"Amelia has a sharp style, yes," I said. "But you don't own a monopoly on high cheekbones, Ms. Lawson. You're projecting."

Sasha closed her eyes for a moment. "Fine. Ill yield. I will marry you."

I paused, staring at her.

"If this is what all of this was for," she said, looking at me with absolute seriousness, "I can accept it. We can go get our marriage license today. What do you say?"

For a moment, I was completely speechless at the sheer absurdity of her arrogance.

"My heart might never fully belong to you," she added, "but I will do my best to be a dutiful wife."

I couldn't take any more of this delusion. "Security. Escort her out."

"David Morgan!" Sasha stood up, her brows furrowed in anger. "Do you really have to make life miserable for Charlie and Gary?"

"Get out," I said coldly.

Sasha glared at me, clearly thinking I was entirely unreasonable, before she was walked out by my staff.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "If anyone else comes to see me, turn them away immediately."

But the next afternoon, my assistant knocked on my door again, looking troubled. "Mr. Morgan, there's a man outside who refuses to leave. He says... he's your father."

Twenty years had carved deep lines into Richard Dunbar's face, but his eyes were just as cold as the day he threw me out.

He walked into my office, surveyed the room, and let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Twenty years. You really spent twenty years fueled by nothing but spite."

"If you have something to say, Mr. Dunbar, say it."

My father took a few steps closer. "You're my son, David. I know you hate me."

And then, right there in the middle of my office, the great, revered philanthropist sank to his knees.

I stared at him, entirely stunned. "Dad?"

"If it makes you feel better, I will kneel before you," he said, his voice trembling. "Bobby... I still prefer the name I gave you."

My hand, which had automatically reached out to help him up, froze in midair.

He looked up at me, his eyes wide and pleading. "What happened back then was my choice alone. I don't regret it, but I will take the blame. I am sorry."

I let out a soft, hollow laugh. "For Charlies sake, you would actually go this far."

"Yes," he whispered.

I slowly pulled my hand back, letting it drop to my side. "Dad, there is one thing Ive never understood. Will you tell me the truth?"

"What is it?"

"Why is it," my voice cracked, the old, familiar ache rising in my throat, "that you can be a savior to thousands of orphans across this country, but you couldn't find a single ounce of fairness for your own son?"

My father lowered his eyes.

"Answer me, Dad."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his jaw tightening. "But I couldn't bear to see Charlie suffer."

I smiled.

You couldn't bear to see him suffer.

So you broke me instead.

"Get up," I said, my voice empty. "I will never forgive any of you."

He didn't move. "Bobby..." he pleaded, his voice cracking.

I turned my back to him, staring out the floor-to-ceiling window. "Show him out."

I heard him slowly rise. The grief in his eyes surely turned back into anger, then bitterness, before the heavy oak door was slammed shut.

I watched his frail figure walk down to his car.

"Set up a matchmaking gala for Amelia," I instructed my assistant. "Open invite. Any family with good standing, good character, and of appropriate age. Everyone is welcome."

I paused.

"Except Gary Dewitt."

"Understood, Mr. Morgan."

The gala was put together within a week. Amelia was dressed beautifully, looking every bit the poised, elegant heiress she was.

"Do you hate me for orchestrating this?" I asked her as we stood near the entrance.

"No," Amelia said, looking out at the young men gathered in the room. "I'll never forget that you raised me alone, Dad. I want to do what's best for our family."

I patted her shoulder. "If theres someone you like, their net worth doesn't matter. I just want you to be happy."

Amelia looked up at me. "Anyone I like?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. Even if they aren't in this room tonight, you can choose them."

"If that's the case..."

Amelia stood up. With a sudden, violent sweep of her arm, she sent a towering, double-height champagne pyramid crashing to the floor.

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the hall. Guests shrieked and scrambled backward as a wave of gold liquid splashed across the marble floor, soaking the hem of my trousers.

I looked up, frozen.

Amelia stood there, her hand wrapped tightly around Gary Dewitts wrist. He had just walked through the front doors.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Amelia said, her voice shaking but resolute. "I know you hate Gary. But he's the only one I want."

Gary looked down at me, a smug, victorious smile pulling at his lips as he wrapped a possessive arm around my daughter's waist.

"My apologies, Mr. Morgan," Gary said smoothly. "It seems your word isn't absolute after all."