Victor Newman had long believed that the most dangerous truths only surface when a man is pushed to his limits. And in those moments—standing on the edge of losing everything—he finally sees what was hidden all along. When Victor made the cold, deliberate decision to end Matt’s life, he viewed it not as murder but as a necessary act of protection. For decades he had done whatever was needed to shield the Newman name, whether the threat came from rivals, traitors, or even his own mistakes. Matt, in Victor’s mind, was simply the last obstacle standing in the way of his family’s safety.

But as Victor braced himself for that final act, unsettling hints began pressing into his thoughts. A few scattered observations—tiny, forgettable on their own—began to connect in a way that unsettled him deeply. Matt’s hatred wasn’t like that of a typical enemy driven by greed or revenge. His fury carried a depth and intimacy that didn’t fit the usual patterns Victor had come to recognize. Matt’s fixation on the Newman family felt personal, almost desperate, as if he was seeking something he had been denied his entire life.

Victor remembered a moment from their last confrontation: Matt bleeding, enraged, curling his right hand in a nervous gesture—two fingers pressed to his thumb. It was an unconscious habit Victor had seen countless times, but only in one person: Nick. His son. Nick had done that very same gesture throughout childhood whenever fear clashed with frustration. It was a Newman trait, inherited, automatic.

At first Victor tried to dismiss the similarity as coincidence or even deliberate imitation. But coincidences never survived scrutiny in Victor’s world. The more he replayed Matt’s reactions—the tremble in his voice, the raw resentment, the strange vulnerability beneath the rage—the more he felt something hauntingly familiar in the man he had labeled an enemy.

Then came the darker memories: whispers of a hospital scandal years ago, rumors of a nurse fired without explanation, inconsistencies in paperwork surrounding Nick’s birth. Even Nikki’s dim recollections of a confusing delivery—moments she had chalked up to sedation and exhaustion—now resurfaced with unsettling clarity. Piece by piece, the fragments aligned into one horrifying question: Had someone stolen their child? And if so… had Matt been the baby taken from them that night?

The realization knocked the breath from Victor’s lungs. If this possibility held any truth, then Matt wasn’t merely a threat—he was a son abandoned through deceit. A child who had grown up convinced he was unwanted. A man molded by bitterness stemming from a life he never should have lived. Suddenly Matt’s obsessive need to replace Nick, to tear down everything Victor had built, made heartbreaking sense. He wasn’t trying to dethrone a rival—he was clawing toward the life that had been stolen from him.

Victor’s determination to kill Matt vanished, replaced with a grief so heavy he felt physically weakened. For the first time in years, he doubted the ground beneath him. Had he spent years fighting someone who should have been protected? Had he looked into Matt’s eyes, seen only hostility, and failed to recognize the reflection of his own blood?

Driven by a need for truth, Victor launched an investigation with a ferocity that eclipsed every battle before it. Old medical records, buried testimonies, corrupted files—all resurfaced with shocking consistency. A nurse had disappeared after Nikki’s delivery. Two infants had been misplaced in a moment of chaos. A doctor with debts fleeing the city months later. Everything pointed toward a scheme where newborns were swapped for profit, leaving shattered families none the wiser.

And Matt’s age, birthplace, and timeline fit the puzzle with terrifying precision.

While investigators uncovered the truth, Matt lay in a hospital bed fighting for life. The room felt like a purgatory suspended between what Victor believed and what he now feared. Approaching the bed, Victor—a man who had intimidated titans—felt powerless. The villain lying before him no longer looked like a monster but a tragedy carved by decades of misplaced rage.

As Matt drifted in and out of consciousness, fragments of emotion spilled from him. He spoke of feeling unwanted, of chasing purpose in shadows, of an inexplicable pull toward the Newman family he could never comprehend. His obsession with Victor wasn’t driven by vengeance—it was the instinctive reach of a child searching for a father he never knew he’d lost.

Victor’s heart fractured hearing Matt describe the emptiness he had carried his entire life. The envy he held for Nick wasn’t jealousy—it was hunger for belonging. Everything he had done, every attack and every scheme, had been fueled not by hatred, but by the ache of a stolen identity.

Matt died before the truth could be confirmed.

His last breaths echoed with longing, his gaze fixed on Victor with a confusion that bordered on recognition. And when the monitors went still, Victor understood the weight of the tragedy fully. He didn’t know whether he had killed a stranger… or the son he never had the chance to love.

Either possibility would haunt him forever.