Chapter 3

"I am Doris, young master." Doris greeted him.

Morel looked at Doris with a strange gaze. He noticed the man's appearance from top to bottom. From the clothes to the watch he was wearing, he looked luxurious. Young master, what? That man even looked better than him. Did he say that to insult him? Morel felt annoyed and walked past him.

"You don't need to call me, young master. Because I'm not your young master." Morel said without turning to Doris, he intended to leave there on his scooter.

"But you are, indeed, my young master. Mr. Morel," Doris said again.

Morel lowered his hand about to put on his helmet, then turned to Doris with a cold gaze. All this time, he had lived a hard life, enduring various sufferings just to survive. Accepting the mistreatment of others even to the point of having to get used to being insulted by people just to keep the job he had, just to make a living.

Then he comes and claims to be his servant. Is that possible?

He looked poorer than him, so how could a poor person like him have a servant with a more bourgeois style?

"Stop joking and playing games with me." Morel looked at him coldly. Just as Morel was about to leave, Doris intercepted him.

He stood before Scooter Morel, keeping him there and listening to him. "Didn't you just receive 100 million dollars in your account this morning, sir?" he looked at Morel intently.

Morel removed his hand from the gas of his scooter. He looked at Doris, stunned. "How did you know?" Morel looked at him with a surprised look on his face.

Ever since he received the money, he had been thinking hard. He knew it wasn't his salary. He kept thinking about the possibility of the money being in his account, who could have made such a fatal mistake. The whole thing took him by surprise.

Doris stood up straight. "Because I was the one who sent it, sir," Doris spoke calmly to him. "You are my young master. We have been searching for you for quite some time but have only managed to find you now. I apologize for coming so late, sir." Doris bowed in a sign of regret.

Morel looked at him fiercely. He began to suspect that Doris wanted to deceive him, especially these days, so rampant with fraud using various methods. "So you sent him?"

Doris nodded. "Yes, sir. That's to prove that this is not a scam." Doris assured him.

But Morel didn't believe that quickly. He gulped as he recalled that when he saw the amount of money in his account, it was huge, and he cursed the wrong person who sent that much money because it was mocking him, who was having economic problems and needed more money.

Morel looked at him. He exhaled softly. "I will return the money to you." He was being cautious.

Doris shook her head. "No sir, you don't need to do that. Instead of that it would be better if you came with me now because there are things we need to do and talk about. But not in this place." Doris glanced around her.

Morel did the same as Doris. He saw some men watching them and listening to what they were discussing. It seemed that the people were curious about what was going on, and of course, that kind of atmosphere made their private conversation no longer private.

Not long after, a black Roll Royce approached and stopped in front of them. Doris quickly approached the car, opened the door, and looked at Morel. "Please come in, sir. I'll explain when we arrive."

Morel stared at the Rolls Royce with fascination. He was amazed to see the luxury car up close. Although in a state of confusion, Morel followed Doris' lead, climbing into the car out of curiosity about the large sum of money and why the man called him young master.

After Morel sat in the back alone, Doris opened the front door and sat there. "We're going now." Doris gave orders to the man driving.

"Where are we going?" Morel asked Doris.

Doris looked back. "We're going to the house you'll be staying in later, sir, in the city of Xervan."

Home? They were going to give her a place to stay? Are they going to do that?

About 30 minutes into the trip, they stopped at a house in an elite neighborhood. Morel got out of his car and looked at the luxurious mansion that stood majestically in front of him.

"This is your home, sir." Doris guided Morel into the building. As they entered, Morel stared at the building in amazement. The house was so luxurious and magnificent. Everything about it was eye-catching, and even the interiors and furniture looked expensive.

"Come upstairs, sir." Doris guided Morel upstairs.

When they arrived at the closed room in the interior of the house, they sat down on a more comfortable sofa. "Sir, you are a member of the Spencer family."

"Me? A member of the Spencer family." Morel widened his eyes. "That's not possible."

The Spencer family was one of the most respected families with tremendous wealth, a family whose name alone could make people feel threatened and reluctant to get involved with them due to their dominating power.

From companies, institutions, and educational foundations to the food industry, they owned businesses.

Doris shook his head. "No, sir. It's true." Once again, Doris reassured him.

Morel looked at him with narrowed eyes and then looked around the room again, searching for something that might be a camera or something. He still thought he was trapped in a situation comedy that would probably be aired by one of the TV stations.

It's impossible that what they say is true. His life wasn't what they said it was. He was nothing but a poor man struggling to survive.

Doris' face looked heavy, then he began to put his hands together and bowed. "Please forgive me in advance, sir, because I was late picking up the master. There are things we didn't expect to happen that we only realized recently."

"What does that mean?" Morel's face scrunched up as he looked at Doris.

Doris raised his face and looked at Morel. "Something happened to the young master that prevented you from visiting the Spencer residence."

Something happened?

Morel was increasingly curious at the extent of the story the man who claimed to be his servant would bring up.

"You were kidnapped when you were only six years old, sir." Morel's eyes stopped blinking as he heard her. "At that time, we tried to find you, sir, and found a boy who looked exactly like you. That's why our search has stopped, sir." Doris noticed the look on Morel's face as he listened to the story seriously.

Morel listened to it, trying to match it with his childhood memories, which were very vague indeed. There wasn't much he remembered at the age of 6 and below, but the age above that he remembered well because it was full of various bad things.

"It was only when he fell ill that we found out that the boy had a blood type that was very different from your mother and father, after which we conducted tests and found that the boy was not a member of the Spencer family," Doris explained slowly.

The position of the wanted child was again vacant after it was proven that the child who was with them was a fake Morel.

"At that time, we went back to search, but our time was too long. Since the kidnappers involved were killed, the only information we could get was buried with them." Doris explained why they were so late.

Morel looked at her thoughtfully. He was starting to believe a little. "You might have made a mistake again." Morel used his logic. He didn't want to get his hopes up and be disappointed.

Doris shook his head. "No, sir, I'm sure of it, and I can prove it to you, sir. Come with me." Doris stuck out her hand in a direction.

Morel, staring thoughtfully at the building from his seat, walked in the direction Doris indicated. They stood on a wall with carvings. Doris stretched out her hand and pressed on it, and then the wall opened.

As the wall opened, Morel gasped in surprise. He staggered back a little and fell silent.

"Come, sir. I'll show you." Doris walked inside. "I will lead you to a safe that can only be opened by the blood of a member of the Spencer family."

Morel followed behind, then joined him in stopping her steps at a giant safe.

"Watch what I'm about to do, master." Doris turned to Morel politely.

As Doris asked, Morel watched him. Then he saw Doris take out a sharp, pointed needle from near the safe. Suddenly, Morel stared in confusion at what the man was about to do, but he tried not to show it.

Morel continued to watch Doris, who was currently pricking her fingertip with the pointy end of the needle until the blood dripped out.

As the blood dripped, Doris dropped the drop of blood on the center of the finger-shaped safe. But nothing happened.

"This door doesn't open, master," Doris said while wiping the blood from her finger. Then she handed the needle to Morel. "You need to do that too, Masterr."

Morel knitted his eyebrows. He was silent until he finally decided to do just that since he was already there, so there was no harm in trying.

"Very well." Morel pricked his finger and did the same, and a different result occurred.

The safe door opened, giving Morel a surprised look while Doris smiled happily.

Doris opened the door perfectly, revealing a gleaming display of gold metal, diamonds, and various other precious stones. "The door doesn't open because I don't have the blood of the Spencer family, sir. But the safe door opened when you tried it." He stared meaningfully at Morel while Morel was rooted to the spot.

Morel was, of course, shocked by the fact that he only found out after a dozen years. He had no idea that she, who had lived a hard life, was a member of the Spencer family that had disappeared a dozen years ago.

Morel gazed at the contents of the safe with wide-open eyes, the light shining from its luster not dazzling him at all. His eyes fixed there. He was stunned and looked at Dorries in confusion. "All this?"

Doris smiled. "That's all just a small fraction of your wealth, sir."

Morel stared at it all in disbelief. He was speechless in front of the sparkling gold and other precious stones.