When I got home, I fed Charlotte and gently rocked her until she fell asleep.
She made soft little sounds in her sleep, and beneath the warm glow of the bedside lamp, her long lashes cast delicate shadows over her cheeks.
My phone vibrated.
Vanessa had uploaded a new post on Instagram.
It was a photo of three hands stacked together.
Adrian's hand.
Her hand.
And Ethan's tiny hand gripping a set of car keys.
The caption read:
Rewarding our little hero today.
A five-million-dollar car.
A child was receiving it as casually as if it were a toy.
I stared at the picture.
Just last week, I had reminded Adrian three separate times to buy imported diapers for his daughter. Every time, he told me he was busy and had forgotten.
Suddenly, I laughed.
The sound that came out was empty and sharp.
I saved the screenshot and added it to my folder of evidence.
Charlotte shifted in my arms and smacked her lips softly in her sleep.
I lowered my head and kissed her silky cheek.
"Don't worry, sweetheart," I whispered. "Mommy will protect you. I promise."
...
The following day, after reviewing all my shares, resources, and assets, I booked a flight to New York scheduled for three days later.
Over the past few days, Adrian had been sending me messages nonstop.
I supposed he was trying his best to maintain the image of a perfect husband.
Honey, today's client was difficult, but I finally closed the deal.
Honey, you've been working so hard. I found a pastry shop downtown that's incredible. I'll take you there sometime.
I scrolled through the messages one after another.
A bitter smile slowly appeared on my face.
Did he really think I knew nothing?
Every bonus payment he had secretly transferred into Vanessa's account showed up in my email notifications.
Every single transaction.
And while he played the role of the devoted husband in front of me, Vanessa posted photos of herself online with stacks of cash stuffed inside her lingerie and fresh love bites blooming across her skin.
I laughed again.
A broken, almost pathetic sound.
How had I been so blind?
Once upon a time, Adrian had loved me like that.
We had been childhood sweethearts.
People envied us.
Beneath an old banyan tree, he had promised me that he would marry no one else.
When we were in college, he chased away every boy who tried to approach me and guarded me as though I belonged solely to him.
When I underwent surgery for appendicitis, he remained beside my hospital bed for three nights, refusing to sleep.
The first paycheck he ever earned had gone directly into my bank account.
Attached to it was a short message.
For my little princess.
Back then, I thought I had found the kind of love people spent their entire lives searching for.
None of it mattered anymore.
A sudden cry interrupted my thoughts.
It came from the nursery.
"Oh my God, Miss Vivian!"
The nanny rushed out, her face drained of color.
"The baby's thigh got cut somehow. The bleeding won't stop!"
Her hands were trembling.
There was blood on them.
My heart nearly stopped.
I ran into the nursery and immediately scooped Charlotte into my arms.
Her tiny cries had weakened considerably.
Blood continued to flow down her leg.
I felt my limbs go numb.
Still, I carried her and rushed to the hospital as quickly as I could.
The doctor looked over the test results and frowned.
"She has a rare neonatal disorder. Her hemoglobin level is dangerously low. She needs a blood transfusion immediately."
My lips trembled.
"Then do it," I said desperately. "Start an IV. Use whatever medicine you need. I'll do anything. I'm her mother—"
The doctor shook his head.
"Parents can't donate blood directly in situations like this. And your daughter has Rh-negative blood. We need to see whether our blood bank still has units available."
"Then give her a clotting agent first!" I practically shouted. "Please, hurry!"
They administered the medication.
The bleeding didn't stop.
I held Charlotte's tiny body against my chest.
She looked so pale.
Tears streamed down my face endlessly.
Several minutes later, a nurse hurried into the room.
Sympathy was written all over her face.
"Miss Vivian..." she said softly. "The Rh-negative blood is gone."
I looked up sharply.
"What do you mean gone? You told me there was reserve blood available!"
The nurse lowered her eyes.
"This is a private hospital. Mr. Sterling's son needed blood urgently, so the director transferred all the remaining Rh-negative units to the VIP ward."
Everything inside me froze.
I felt as though lightning had struck me.
My chest hurt so badly I could barely breathe.
I was about to call Adrian.
I wanted to scream at him.
Then my phone lit up.
Vanessa had posted another story.
Our little rascal scraped his knee. Luckily, Daddy can get the rarest blood in the city whenever he wants.
For a second, I thought my head would explode.
I handed Charlotte to the nurse and ran.
Up the stairs.
Down the corridor.
My heart pounded violently inside my chest.
I reached the VIP ward and kicked the door open.
Inside, Vanessa was smiling while playing a game with James.
The boy sat comfortably on the hospital bed.
There was a tiny scrape on his knee.
It was so minor it didn't even need a bandage.
I stood there, unable to move.
The scene before me was almost unbearable.
A happy mother.
A cheerful child.
Meanwhile, my daughter was fighting for her life downstairs.
Hatred surged through me like a tidal wave.
I couldn't contain it.
"Give the blood to my daughter!" I screamed.
Vanessa looked at me with that familiar expression.
Smug.
Triumphant.
The expression she wore whenever she believed she had won.
"Why are you making such a scene?" she asked coldly. "My son just scraped his knee."
My voice shook.
"This isn't about a scraped knee! My daughter has a rare condition. If treatment is delayed any longer, she could die!"
The doctor standing outside heard the commotion and stepped inside.
He looked between us uneasily.
"If there is enough blood available... perhaps some of it can be given to this child?"
I looked at him desperately.
I felt like I was drowning.
"Please," I begged. "My daughter needs Rh-negative blood immediately. If we delay any longer, she won't survive."
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
"Oh, please, Doctor."
She folded her arms.
"You know who my husband is. He's this hospital's largest shareholder. Did you forget that? Every unit of Rh-negative blood belongs to my son. Are you trying to get yourself fired?"
It felt like someone had punched me directly in the chest.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't think.
I lunged toward the IV stand and grabbed the blood bag.
"You stole my daughter's chance to live!" I cried. "How could you do something like this?"
Vanessa screamed.
"Security! Hurry!"
She pointed at me.
"This crazy woman is trying to steal my son's blood!"
Two security guards immediately rushed into the room.
They grabbed my arms and restrained me.
I struggled wildly.
My pulse thundered inside my ears.
Vanessa snatched the blood bag from my hands and raised it triumphantly.
"Look at her!" she shouted. "She actually tried to steal my son's blood! Get her out of here!"
The guards dragged me backward.
I could barely breathe.
Fury.
Despair.
Panic.
Everything twisted together inside my chest.
One of the guards frowned.
"The hospital has enough blood. You're just causing trouble."
I almost screamed.
"I don't care about anything else!" I cried hoarsely. "My daughter is dying! She has every right to live!"
At that moment, the hospital director arrived outside the room.
After taking in the chaotic scene, he frowned.
"Hold on."
His gaze moved across the room.
"Which one of you is Mrs. Sterling?"
