Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son - Chapter 85: Chapter 85

"Since I can remember, it's always been there," I replied, unsure why she seemed so surprised. "I've never met my biological parents, so I can't say for certain if it's a birthmark I was born with."
I turned my head and saw the tears in Shirley's eyes.
"Are you okay, Mrs. Smith?" I asked, startled by her reaction.
She stared at me, her voice trembling. "My daughter... She had a birthmark on her back too. The same spot, the same shape, and even the same size as yours."
I froze. Shirley had once told me that she had a daughter who passed away shortly after birth. Seeing the birthmark must have triggered something in her.
"What are the odds? Your daughter and I must share a special connection," I said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Even though she's gone, her mother still remembers her. Unlike me... I don't even know who my parents are."
I meant to comfort her, but the words struck a chord with me, and I got rather emotional too.
Shirley paused for a moment, then gently applied the ointment to my back. "Do you have any memory of your biological parents at all?" she asked softly.
I let out a sigh and said wryly, "The orphanage told me I was only a month old when they found me on their doorstep. Other than this birthmark, the only thing that connects me to my parents is a small pouch."
Shirley froze, her eyes widened in disbelief. "A pouch? Was it emerald green, with an 'S' embroidered on it?
"How did you know that?" I was stunned.
Without warning, she threw her arms around me, tears streaming down her face. "You're my daughter, Natalia! You're alive."
My mind was spinning; I couldn't make sense of what she was saying. Shirley's my biological mother?
I gently pushed her away, my voice quivering with confusion. "Shirley, please calm down. You said your daughter..."
"Natalia," Shirley choked out. "If I had known you were alive, I would never have stopped looking for you."
She cradled my face with trembling hands, her words tumbling out between sobs. "When you were just a month old, your grandfather passed away in a car accident. Your father and I rushed back to the family estate for the funeral. You were too young to travel, so we left you with the nanny.
"Then, there was a fire. The house burned down completely. The firefighters found two bodies in the rubble—a woman and a child. I thought I'd lost you forever."
Shirley sobbed uncontrollably, her words coming in gasps. "I don't know how you ended up at an orphanage, but the fact that you survived is a miracle." She was so overwhelmed with emotion that she was struggling to hold it together.
I stayed rational. Shirley's words alone weren't enough to prove that she was my biological mother. I hugged her and patted her back. "Did you say the pouch had an 'S' embroidered on it?" I asked.
That pouch had been with me my entire life, but I never noticed an "S" in the embroidery. She suggested seeing the pouch, and I agreed, so we headed to my place.
In the apartment, I pulled out the small, worn pouch. The moment she saw it, tears streamed down her face again. She quickly made a call, and within minutes, she received several photos.
Shirley held the phone out to me. The photos showed a collection of brightly colored pouches, each identical in design and embroidery to mine. Pointing to an image, Shirley said, "This is a design that's unique to the Smith family. It's unmistakable."
I stared at the photos in disbelief.
"You're really my daughter." Shirley wept with joy. "Natalia, come home with me. Your father and grandmother will be overjoyed to know you're alive."
Without a moment's hesitation, she dragged me toward the door. Everything felt surreal. I followed her downstairs, where the chauffeur was already waiting, and before I knew it, we were pulling up to a sprawling mansion.
In the living room, a tall, handsome middle-aged man approached me, his gaze shifting between Shirley and me with cautious curiosity.
"This is our daughter," Shirley exclaimed, introducing me to him. She then turned to me and said, "Natalia, this is your father."
He was Ben Smith, the chairman of Maple Media. I was still trying to wrap my head around the situation and couldn't bring myself to call him my father just yet. "Hello, Mr. Smith," I uttered awkwardly.
"Hello, Natalia." Ben smiled warmly and gestured for me to take a seat. "I've already arranged for a DNA test. They'll be here shortly to collect samples. In the meantime, why don't you stay for dinner?"
Unlike Shirley, Ben was calm and composed. I nodded, agreeing that a DNA test was necessary.
It seemed as though Shirley was already certain that I was her daughter. She immediately asked about my favorite dishes, as if eager for the chef to prepare a lavish feast for me.
Holding my hand, Shirley's eyes were full of tenderness. "Natalia, the moment I saw you, I felt a connection. I'm so glad I came to Enschester, and I'm so grateful that I found you."
"Mom, Dad, what's going on?" York's voice came from the doorway. He stopped short when he saw me sitting on the sofa.
"York, come meet your sister, Natalia," Shirley said warmly. "Doesn't she look just like me when I was young?"
A complicated look appeared in York's eyes. Ben briefly filled him in on the situation.
York walked over to me, sizing me up. Then, he flashed a charming smile and said to me, "No wonder I felt an instant bond with you when we first met. Now I see why. You look just like Mom when she was young—a true beauty."
Shirley beamed at his words.
"Natalia, I didn't expect us to have such a connection," York added with a chuckle.
For some reason, I felt like there was more to his words than he was letting on, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
"We can't be sure if I'm truly Mrs. Smith's daughter until we get the test results," I said solemnly.
I still couldn't believe it. How could I possibly be Shirley's daughter?
"The universe works in mysterious ways," York drawled, his lips curling into an almost imperceptible smirk.
After dinner, a team arrived to collect DNA samples from me and Ben. The results wouldn't be out for a few days. By the time everything was finished, it was already eight in the evening. I figured it was time to head back.
Shirley was reluctant to let me go and insisted that I stay. "After all, you'll be moving back soon. Why not get comfortable now?"
Everything was happening too fast.