Natalie was in a foul mood, having had a fight with her boyfriend.
She sent him a message, asking to meet up for a drink.
Without a second thought, he left our son—on his birthday—and rushed to her side, terrified that something might happen to her.
Just one message saying she was back in the country and he was overjoyed.
He couldn’t wait to run after her.
Message after message, filled with suggestive, intimate words..
I felt like I had fallen into a frozen abyss.
My chest clenched with agony.
So this is what it feels like—to love someone so deeply, only for that love to tear you apart.
Their last outing?
It was on March 7th—the same day Samuel was kidnapped.
I still remember how I had frantically messaged James, begging him for help, telling him our son had been taken.
And he’d simply replied, disbelief in his tone.
[Who would kidnap Samuel? It’s probably just a prank.]
While I was out of my mind with fear, searching for help from the police, he was out in the countryside with Natalie, stargazing and holding her in his arms.
When Samuel was finally found, his body had already given up.
He was gone—dead in both body and soul.
I had begged James to help me find the person who did it.
He said yes.
But behind my back, he was comforting Natalie, whispering,
“I’ve taken care of the kidnapper. He won’t get the chance to say anything.”
So this is love.
Love that lets you protect a murderer—your own child’s killer—and hide the truth to shield her.
Hatred surged in my chest. I trembled with fury.
Then I found something in his phone.
A video. My fingers shook as I tapped to play it.
On screen was the kidnapper—his face contorted with rage.
“This is unfair! The person who ordered me to kidnap the Klawn Family’s young master was Natalie! If you want revenge, go after her! She made me do it!”
“She promised me a million. All she wanted was for me to take the fall and never expose her.”
Then came the voice I would never mistake.
James’s voice.
Cold. Unfeeling.
He appeared in the video, face emotionless.
Even the kidnapper was stunned.
“Isn’t Samuel Klawn your son? Why are you still helping that woman—Natalie?”
And James replied, “The son of the Klawn Family can’t be a weakling with a heart condition.”
“His mother coddled him too much. Now that he’s dead, it’s the best outcome.”
The best outcome?
He thought our son’s death was ideal.
I wanted to laugh.
The hatred inside me burned hotter than ever.
To him, I was a substitute. A look-alike.
But Samuel—he was our only child.
What did he ever do to deserve this?
I took a deep breath, saved the video and forwarded it to my own number.
Then I deleted every trace and called my lawyer.
“Please help me draft a divorce agreement.”
Once everything was in place, I asked Natalie to meet me.
She showed up with her usual fair skin and a fake, sweet smile.
As soon as she arrived, she “accidentally” bumped into a vase, sending it crashing to the ground.
Then she turned around and shamelessly claimed that I had smashed it.
Back then, no matter how I explained, James always believed her.
He thought I was jealous, acting out of spite.
At the time, I couldn’t understand why he’d trust her so blindly.
Now, it all made sense.
But every time I looked at her, all I could see was the image of my son—lifeless and at peace.
I forced the storm inside me to settle and pulled out the divorce agreement.
In a calm, quiet voice, I said, “As long as you can get him to sign this, the title of ‘Mrs. Klawn’ is yours.”
Natalie stared at the papers, disbelief in her eyes.
She let out a snort, lips curled in mockery.
“You used that face of yours—that face that looks like mine—to get him to marry you. And now you expect me to believe you’re willing to divorce him? Please.”
I looked at her coldly.
“Believe it or not. After what happened to Samuel, I’m done”
“As for James… if you want him, you can have him.”
