Rebirth Of The Heiress And The Tycoon's Lover (Alina) novel Chapter 320

**Chapter 320**

**AUTHOR’S POV.**

A thick, unsettling silence enveloped the room, a heavy blanket of disbelief settling in the wake of Darius’s shocking revelation. His words hung in the air like a storm cloud, casting long shadows over the faces of friends and family who had gathered, their expressions a mix of confusion and disbelief.

Darius’s jaw clenched tightly, the muscles in his face working as if he were trying to physically digest the enormity of what he had just disclosed. The tension radiating from him was palpable, a tightly wound coil ready to snap under the pressure of the moment.

Luna, caught in a whirlwind of shock, felt her delicate teacup slip from her fingers, the shattering sound against the carpet echoing the tumult in her mind. The remnants of her tea pooled around her like a small, forgotten puddle, mirroring the chaos swirling within her heart. She could barely process the implications of Darius’s words, her thoughts spiraling into a vortex of confusion.

Damien, visibly shaken and pale, clutched a crumpled piece of paper in his trembling hands. The phrase “35 vouchers” escaped his lips in a hushed tone, incredulity lacing his words. “35 vouchers,” he repeated, as if the mere act of saying it might somehow lessen the surreal nature of the situation.

In that moment, time seemed to freeze. The air thickened with an urgency none of them had anticipated, a collective breath held in disbelief.

“That’s impossible,” Darius finally broke the silence, a bitter laugh caught in his throat, sounding more like a strangled gasp. “You’re Cassian Voss. I know exactly who you are.” His voice dripped with skepticism, a challenge to the very foundation of Cassian’s claim.

Cassian met Darius’s gaze with unwavering intensity, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding him. “Yes, that’s the name I go by now, but you can call me whatever you wish,” he replied, his voice soft yet firm, a gentle counterpoint to the storm brewing in the room. “But I know who I am, and deep down, you do too.”

Luna’s voice sliced through the tension, sharp and incredulous. “Lucius Stormvale is dead,” she declared, her hand instinctively rising to cover her mouth, as if to shield herself from the reality of the words she had just uttered. The thought of speaking too loudly felt like it might shatter the fragile fabric of their shared reality.

Cassian’s grip on the envelope tightened, his knuckles turning white. “That is what people believe, but I am right here,” he asserted, his voice steady and resolute. “The world thought me dead because that was my desire.” His gaze shifted to Darius, pleading for understanding. “I have proof.”

Darius let out a short, derisive laugh that echoed in the quiet room. “Proof? What proof could you possibly have?” he challenged, his tone dripping with disbelief.

With deliberate slowness, Cassian reached into the envelope, revealing the contents as if unearthing a sacred relic. He produced a series of papers, a photograph, and a small, folded document tied with an elegant black ribbon. Carefully, he laid them on the coffee table, pushing them toward Darius, who stared at the items as if they were venomous snakes poised to strike.

Darius’s hand hovered above the photographs, his expression shifting through incredulity, denial, and an unsettling, sharper emotion—fear. “Where did you get this?” he demanded, his voice rising, betraying the turmoil within him.

Cassian met his gaze directly, unflinching. “Where I could. I have my sources, Mr. Evergreen. You know there was no way I could access these unless I were a Stormvale…”

Luna’s knees trembled beneath her, and she whispered, “This is—” her voice barely rising above a breath, laden with disbelief.

Damien’s fists clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white. “If this is a trick—” he began, but Cassian interjected.

“It’s not a trick,” he insisted, his tone firm. “I swear to you.” There was a calmness to his voice, too calm, as if he had steeled himself against the storm brewing around them. “I know the family secret. I know things about Lucius Stormvale that I shouldn’t know unless I am him.”

The weight of that statement hung heavy in the air, each word resonating like a tolling bell, echoing through their collective consciousness. They all remembered Lucius, the boy who had vanished into thin air when flames consumed his family, his name haunting their conversations, slicing through their shared history like a cruel blade. To claim he was alive was to rip open wounds that had long festered, wounds no one wished to revisit.

Darius’s face flushed with a mix of anger and disbelief. “You expect us to believe this without concrete proof? This doesn’t prove anything!” he snapped, his voice sharp as a knife, cutting through the tension.

Cassian remained unfazed, his resolve unyielding. “I don’t expect anything,” he replied calmly. “I’m still providing you with proof.”

He slid the photograph toward Luna, who reached for it as if wading through thick molasses. But as her fingers brushed against the glossy surface, she recoiled, breath hitching in her throat. There it was—the face, older perhaps, but unmistakable. She could never forget those piercing eyes.

The face of Lucius Stormvale stared back at them from the photograph, a ghost resurrected from the depths of their memories.

Cassian then produced another piece of evidence, one that left no room for denial. It was a DNA test result confirming that he was indeed Lucius.

“You can redo the test to confirm if it makes you feel better,” he said to Darius, his voice steady as he laid the document before him.

Overwhelmed by the revelation, Luna succumbed to her emotions, a small sob escaping her lips that quickly transformed into a choked cry. She sank back into the couch, fingers pressed to her lips, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Lucius,” she breathed, the name becoming an anchor in the tumultuous sea of her emotions.

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