The 99th Game Was Mine All Along novel Chapter 115

Chapter 4 

My Oliver had been looking forward to this birthday party for days. 

For him, as long as he could celebrate with Ethan, he didn’t mind calling him “Uncle“. 

But a delicate hand gripped Ethan’s hand as he held the cake knife: “I don’t think so.” 

“This kind of celebration party isn’t for adopted children like you. Right, Ethan?” Victoria said with a 

smirk. 

I felt rage building inside me. 

By now, everything was clear. 

That WhatsApp message was sent by Victoria, with the sole purpose of publicly cementing Oliver’s status 

as an adopted child with no blood relation to the Ferrers family. 

“Ethan, is that true?” I asked firmly, shielding my son behind me. 

Ethan stood frozen for a moment, guilt flashing in his eyes when they met mine. 

With everyone watching, he said: “Yes, he’s an adopted child, not related to the Ferrers family.” 

Victoria behind him flashed a triumphant smile, like a victorious fighter. 

The whispers around us grew louder. 

“How shameless, ruining such a joyous occasion.” 

“That’s right. These adopted people just don’t understand proper etiquette.” 

Amid the cruel comments, Oliver’s face turned pale, his eyes reddening. 

My anger reached unprecedented heights. 

I strode forward and violently flipped over the towering cake. 

“Oh, the engagement party, huh? Fine, let me make sure everyone enjoys yourselves!” 

The American elite stood speechless as Ethan and Victoria’s faces darkened in the crowd. 

Only Oliver, my precious boy, looked up at me like I was his hero. 

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Chapter 4 

“Mommy, you’re amazing!” 

I picked him up and said. 

“Mr. Ferrers, I apologize for it, but Oliver is only my child from now. He has no connection to the Ferrers 

family.” 

“We’re leaving now.” 

The next moment, I was pinned to the ground by security guards. 

Victoria’s venomous voice came from above: 

“You think you can just come and go from the Ferrers estate as you please?” 

“Give that bitch a damn beating and throw her out!” 

Massive fists rained down on me, making my bones creak under the impact. 

Oliver crawled toward me, sobbing hysterically. I gritted my teeth and pushed him away each time. 

Through the crowd, I saw Ethan’s conflicted expression before Victoria pulled him back again. 

I endured the beating, each blow shattering a memory of our past. 

Ethan from seven years ago, climbing up to my balcony promising forever; Ethan from six years ago, laughing happily despite being called “the fiancé” by others; Ethan from five years ago, holding Oliver and declaring his life complete… 

All turning to ashes in my memory. 

Oliver’s cries became desperate. He knelt before Ethan, kowtowing and begging: 

“Uncle Ethan, it’s our fault. I apologize. Please let go of my mommy.” 

Those words made both Ethan and me look up in disbelief. 

Ethan frowned, “Stop! All of you!” 

Then he stared at Oliver in shock. “I’m sorry?” 

The kneeling child seemed to have grown up in an instant. With red–rimmed eyes, he looked at his father: 

“Uncle Ethan, we’re not welcome here. My mother and I will leave now.” 

“Thank you for your hospitality today.” 

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