The Flower That Grew from Ashes novel Chapter 112

That question crashed into the room like a boulder into a frozen lake, triggering not just ripples, but a tidal wave massive enough to capsize everyone present.

The expressions of the over three hundred guests morphed from gleeful gossip into bone-chilling horror.

Illegitimate heirs and affairs with a sister-in-law were filthy, sure, but they were still within the realm of wealthy scandals.

But faking a death certificate and framing your own flesh and blood? That was murder.

It was the bloodiest, darkest sin buried in the depths of this seemingly respectable aristocratic family.

Barnum's face turned completely ashen in that instant.

The hand gripping his drink could no longer maintain its facade of composure. The subtle tremors sent panicked ripples across the liquid in the glass.

But he was a sly old fox who had survived decades in the cutthroat corporate world.

After the initial shock passed, he forcibly suppressed the raging panic in his chest, trying to use his patriarchal authority to rein in this runaway train.

He slammed his glass down hard onto the table, producing a heavy thud.

"Enough!"

His voice was hoarse, strained by extreme fury and an underlying guilt.

"This is family business! Lehman family business! We do not need to air our dirty laundry in front of outsiders!"

He tried to use the oldest, most shameless excuse in the book to shut Elias up.

However, Elias just stared at him coldly.

It was the gaze of a man watching a pathetic prey in its death throes.

"Family business?"

A faint, intensely sarcastic smirk curled Elias's lips.

"Father, aren't you the one who loves lecturing us about 'rules'?"

As he spoke, he slowly strolled over to the table where his investigation report rested.

"At that time, I, Elias Lehman, held forty-five percent of the company's original shares. That equity was left to my side of the family by my grandfather, kept entirely separate from the company's joint assets."

"According to our family trust agreement, if the primary heir—me—were to suffer an 'accidental death' without leaving behind any legal successors, all my shares would be held in trust by my legal spouse, my 'widow,' Ms. Clarissa Sherwood."

His eyes slowly drifted to the stage, landing on the woman in the pristine wedding gown who was now trembling like a leaf.

Then, he delivered the final, crushing blow that would nail Barnum to the cross of public disgrace forever.

"And according to the supplementary clauses, there is only one authorized overseer for Ms. Sherwood's proxy shares."

"That would be you, my dear father. Mr. Barnum Lehman."

Boom!

The revelation detonated like a literal bomb, drawing a deafening, collective gasp from the entire banquet hall.

The truth was blatantly obvious now.

This was a father who, in order to plug a massive financial hole and legally snatch up his eldest son's life-saving shares, had orchestrated a flawless, murderous plot to fake his own flesh and blood's death.