Chapter 5

The guys who brought me here were totally quiet as they guided me further into the mansion, leaving my questions hanging without answers.

More bodyguards were scattered around, their expressions impossible to read.

And whoever owned this place… they definitely had plans for me. I couldn’t find a way out; every escape route I thought of felt pointless, and I had no clue how to navigate my way back.

My steps stumbled when I noticed an unfamiliar old man standing in the center of the room. 

He had this regal vibe, decked out in a sharp suit that practically shouted wealth and his gray hair was slicked back with a precision that only someone used to luxury could manage. His posture was straight, but his eyes… there was something familiar in them.

When our gazes met, he paused for just a moment, then his face transformed. His eyes sparkled with an emotion I couldn't quite identify—was it shock, relief, or maybe excitement? 

It was like he’d seen a ghost.

The man stood up, almost stumbling over his own feet in his rush. His movements didn’t match the frailty his age suggested. He was moving toward me, his hands trembling slightly. The bodyguards stepped back, giving us space, as if they already knew what was happening. I didn’t.

“Jordan?” The word came out almost like a whisper, filled with disbelief and something else—something deeper.

I blinked, still processing everything. The luxury, the mystery, the fact that I was in this mansion with no idea why. And now, this old man looked at me like he had seen the resurrection of someone long lost.

I didn’t know what to say. “Who… who are you?”

The old man’s gaze softened as he stopped right in front of me. His hands twitched like he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should. He seemed to be studying my face with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. 

“You… you look just like him,” he said with a cracky voice. He had something like tears clouded at the corner of his eyes. “Just like your father.”

My heart skipped a beat. ‘My father?’

“I’m your grandfather, Jordan,” he said, the words and he wrapped me in his embrace. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

I stood there, feeling like the world was spinning too fast for me to keep up. My grandfather? This man thought I was his grandson, the long-lost heir to a family I had never even heard of. It all felt surreal, like some twisted dream I’d wake up from any second.

"You've got the wrong person," I said, my voice firm though my head was spinning. "I have a family. My grandmother—she raised me. She worked as a cleaner, and she did her best, but... we’ve never had any connection to wealth or... anything like this."

The old man—my supposed grandfather—looked crushed, his brows furrowed in confusion, like he couldn’t believe what I was saying. He shook his head slowly, almost as if trying to dispel some fog in his mind.

"Your grandmother raised you?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “But your parents…”

“I don’t know them," I cut in, my voice colder than I intended. "It’s just been me and my grandmother for as long as I can remember."

His face fell from the coldness of my words. I didn’t want to be cruel, but this was a mistake—had to be. I wasn’t some lost heir to a wealthy dynasty. I was just Jordan, raised by my grandmother, I serve at restaurants to keep a roof over our heads. A busboy—that’s what Mikky called me, that proud bastard. 

It just occurred to me that I never pressed to know about my parents. My grandmother has been my only family, and we were always too busy working to put food on the table to discuss such things. 

I wanted to ask the old man about my parents, but I decided against it. My grandmother has a lot of questions to answer.

I stood in the strange, heavy silence, clueless about what to say, until a deep voice broke through.

“Here’s the DNA test, son. Take a look at it.” The old man smiled, handing over a document to me. 

“What?”  I was shocked to find that it was a DNA result,

with me being one of the samples being matched.