Beneath the golden sun and designer suits of Los Angeles, a storm brews unlike any other. At the heart of it stands a man no one truly knows — but whose very presence has already begun to twist the legacy of the Forresters into knots. His name is Adrien Mercier — a European billionaire with taste, power, and a shadowed past… and he claims to be Eric Forrester’s grandson.
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Ridge is the first to hear the rumors — a luxury penthouse purchased in Beverly Hills under a shell company, with immediate investments in Forrester competitors. But what starts as a business curiosity turns into something far more personal when Adrien sends a private invitation to Eric, requesting a one-on-one meeting… and enclosing a photograph.
The photo is old. Faded. But unmistakable — Stephanie Forrester, decades younger, holding a toddler with eyes that mirror Adrien’s. Eric drops the glass in his hand. For the first time in years, the patriarch is shaken to his core. Stephanie had secrets — he always knew that — but could this stranger truly be family?
Brooke, ever protective of Ridge and the Forrester name, insists it’s a scam. But Steffy sees something else. A vulnerability in Adrien’s eyes. A pain that doesn’t look rehearsed.
When Adrien finally steps into Forrester headquarters, flanked by lawyers and silence, the tension is palpable. He doesn’t demand a stake. He doesn’t come to threaten. Instead, he asks one question: “Why did she keep me hidden?”
Quinn, watching from afar, becomes increasingly suspicious. She remembers whispers from her past in Paris, a name that once crossed paths with a young Stephanie during her modeling years in Europe.
As Ridge demands DNA proof and Eric spirals into guilt, Adrien plays a slow game. He begins charming the press, investing in Hope’s fashion line, and offering Zende a deal that could change his future forever — if he’s willing to turn against his family.
But the most shocking twist comes at the week’s end — Adrien walks into Stephanie’s old studio, untouched since her death, and places a single rose on the vanity. “I’m here, Grandmother,” he whispers. “And I won’t leave until they know who I am.”
