Chapter 58: “The Blood Bag”

Alia stared at him in shock, her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. An orphan? She couldn't help but reevaluate this man. She had never doubted him before, but now that Elias mentioned he was an orphan, she realized just how different he was from Marcellus—from his demeanor to his actions, from his personality to his habits. So, the root of it all lay here.

Elias seemed to see through her surprise, a self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Yes, Marcellus and I aren't blood brothers. I was adopted by his father, Peter, and his mother, Emma, from this orphanage."

"Adopted?" Alia couldn't help but press further. "But why did they adopt you?"

Elias's gaze deepened as if he were recalling long-buried memories. His voice was calm and low, yet tinged with a trace of bitterness.

"Peter adopted me not out of kindness. He needed a child to serve a certain purpose, and I happened to be the one chosen."

Alia froze. She had never imagined that Elias's existence had been marked by such cruelty from the very beginning.

"When I was a child, Marcellus's mother, Emma, went to great lengths to hide the fact that I wasn't her son," Elias said, his eyes fixed on the ground as if staring at the meticulously disguised version of himself. "She even pretended to have just given birth and introduced me to the world as Marcellus's 'younger brother.' I attended events with them, received a noble education, and was trained to align myself with the family's interests."

Alia's throat felt dry. She couldn't stop herself from asking, "When did you find out the truth?"

Elias lifted his head, his gaze sharp as a blade.

"I've known since the day I could understand anything that I wasn't their son. Peter never kept it from me. On the contrary, he made it very clear I should never harbor any illusions about inheriting the family's fortune. He wanted me to know from the start—I was just a pawn in the family's game."

His tone was flat, but the immense loneliness and pain lurking beneath his words were palpable. Alia's heart trembled slightly. "And… how did you feel about it at the time?"

Elias let out a soft laugh, a mix of self-mockery and defiance in his smile.

"I was too young to even understand what 'inheritance' meant back then. But I knew one thing—no matter what I did, I would never truly be acknowledged. So, I had to become strong. I couldn't lose to Marcellus or anyone else."

He looked toward the branches of the sycamore tree as if seeing his younger, lonely self through them.

"Because of that, I grew up with a deep sense of inferiority, but my inferiority made me stubborn. To avoid being looked down on, I studied relentlessly, trying to prove my worth. But those days felt like living in a cage. I never experienced true freedom, let alone friendship."

Alia listened quietly, a complex mix of emotions welling up inside her. She had never seen this candid side of Elias before. He always seemed perfectly composed, but here, on the familiar grounds of the orphanage, his defenses fell away, revealing a hidden part of himself.

"Until that banquet," Elias continued, his voice softening as if recalling a rare moment of warmth. "That day, I stood in the corner of the room, not wanting to eat or talk to anyone. Everyone ignored me, as usual. I was used to it. But then, she appeared."

"She?" Alia frowned slightly.

Elias nodded, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

"She brought me a plate of pastries, handing them to me as if nothing had happened. She stood in the sunlight, smiling against the light, while I stood in the shadows, looking at her figure. For the first time, I felt warmth."

Alia's heart skipped a beat, and she had a faint suspicion about who "she" was. "You mean… me?"

A mix of nostalgia and pain flickered in Elias's eyes.

"Yes, it was you. Of course, it was you. That day, you didn't just give me pastries—you lit up my heart. For the first time, I thought maybe my life wasn't only about pain and hardship."

Alia was silent for a long time, her eyes fixed on Elias's profile. A tangle of emotions surged within her. She thought she understood him, but now she realized the truth he had hidden ran far deeper than she had imagined.

Maybe Elias wasn't as cold as he believed himself to be, she thought quietly.

Elias's expression darkened, his emotions a mix of mockery and anger. Alia noticed his fingers lightly gripping the edge of his coat, as if suppressing an internal storm.

"Why?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion and frustration. She didn't want to pry into Elias's feelings for Livia, so she redirected her question. "If they told you from the start that you were adopted, why pretend you were their son in public? What was their goal?"

Elias let out a bitter laugh, his tone full of scorn.

"Why? Because I was meant to 'exchange lives' with Marcellus."

"Exchange lives?" Alia's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Yes," Elias replied, his voice low and laced with irony. "Peter didn't choose me because I was smart or had potential. He chose me because my blood type, my genes—everything—perfectly matched Marcellus. In other words, if anything happened to Marcellus, I could provide blood, organs, even bone marrow without any complications. I was nothing more than a spare 'blood bag.'"

A cold, sardonic smile tugged at his lips as he continued.

"They raised me as Marcellus's shadow, always ready to sacrifice myself to save him. Thankfully, he's been healthy so far."

Alia was too stunned to speak, her mind reeling from the revelation. Such a cold, cruel arrangement was far beyond anything she could have imagined. Adopting a child for such a purpose? She couldn't fathom how Elias had endured these truths as a child, nor how he had grown into the man he was today in such an environment.

"How… how did you find out?" she asked, her voice trembling, as if afraid of the answer.