"And you owe our daughter just as much."

"Since the day she was born, you never once cared about her. Not when she was sick. Not when she cried."

"But that bastard child of yours? Him you dote on."

Thomas said nothing.

I scoffed and turned to look at the two children.

My daughter was gaunt and sallow, her tiny brow furrowed even in sleep.

The other child was plump and rosy, visibly healthier in every way.

The bitterness spilled out before I could stop it.

"You really do play the devoted husband for Tracey and her son."

"Too bad a mistress will always be a mistress, and a bastard will always be a bastard."

That hit a nerve.

"Do you have to be so vile? What do you mean, bastard?"

"If you'd been able to conceive, do you think I would've gone to her for a child?"

My eyes went wide.

"What are you saying..."

He lifted his head and stared straight into my eyes.

"I'm telling you, Douglas is not a bastard, and he will never be called illegitimate."

"What can a girl accomplish? The Gilbert family name, the legacy, the empire — all of it needs a son."

The room fell silent. I stared at him, unable to process what I'd just heard.

He frowned, impatient.

"If Douglas hadn't gotten sick, if the bone marrow match hadn't led back to her, do you think you would've ever found out?"

"Just think of it as your daughter doing a good deed. Building up karma. Once she's discharged, we go back to normal. We move on."

The sheer absurdity of it pulled a cold laugh from my throat.

My daughter had been kidnapped at her own first birthday party and drained of her bone marrow. I'd tracked down the culprit, only to discover it was her own father.

Thomas Gilbert didn't give a damn whether his daughter lived or died, yet somehow I was the one being unreasonable.

I made a phone call. My assistant arrived within minutes, people in tow.

Thomas's bodyguards moved to block them. I shut that down myself.

My lawyer handed me the custody relinquishment agreement. I took it and threw it at Thomas.

"If this hospital won't treat her, I'll find one that will."

"Since you can't stand the sight of your own daughter, you can have exactly what you want."

"Sign it."

Thomas stared at the document, stunned for half a second, then erupted.

"What the hell are you doing? Who gave you permission to draw this up?"

"I'm telling you, there's no way I'm signing—"

I raised a hand and cut him off before he could finish.

"When I was eight months pregnant and agreed to remarry you, you promised you'd be good to me and our daughter."

"That was the last time I ever believed you."

"Three days. Whether you sign or not, I'm taking my daughter."

I turned and walked away, ignoring his frantic shouting behind me.

Once I was past the hospital doors, I stopped, leaned close to my assistant's ear.

"Get Lily's surgical reports. I'm not swallowing this. I'm going to make him pay."

My daughter's condition was serious.

Her already frail body had been drained of bone marrow. She needed rest and careful treatment more than ever.

I stayed at the hospital for days. Not a word from Thomas.

He didn't visit her once.

My assistant told me why: Tracey's brat had fallen ill again, and Thomas was at his bedside around the clock.

It wasn't until Lily's condition finally stabilized that I went to collect the agreement in person.

I went straight to that hospital room myself.

But the moment my fingers touched the door handle, I heard voices inside.

"Mr. Gilbert, your wife has been at the hospital with your daughter for days."

"Her assistant asked that you please sign the agreement as soon as possible."

Thomas's voice was flat, dripping with contempt.

"She's a Gilbert by blood. Why would I hand her over?"

"This whole mess is Vivienne's fault to begin with. Let her stew a few more days, and she'll come crawling back to apologize."

His assistant hesitated, then ventured carefully.

"And if... your wife pushes for divorce again?"

Thomas let out a derisive laugh, voice brimming with certainty.

"Even if she tries, she can't leave me. She can't leave the Gilbert family."

"Forget how much she loves me. Even if we divorced, who'd want her? Damaged goods dragging a kid around."

"Besides, with Douglas's condition... we might still need Lily."

The sound of my daughter's name knocked the air from my lungs. My hand clenched around the door handle.

Another voice rose from inside, syrupy and soft. Tracey.

"Thomas, I still... want to give Douglas a real place in the family."

Thomas's voice softened immediately.

"Alright, if that's what you want, I'll make it happen."

"Douglas deserves to be recognized. We'll hold a paternity recognition banquet and formally welcome him into the Gilbert family."

Tracey beamed, then put on a show of concern.

"But… won't your wife be angry? What if she takes Lily and leaves?"

Thomas shook his head without a shred of doubt.

"The marriage certificate is in my hands. No matter how angry she gets, she can't take our daughter anywhere."

I drew a long breath.

Forced every ounce of rage back down my throat.

Barging in now wouldn't do anyone any good.

I released the door handle and slipped away in silence.

One thing was clear: I needed custody settled as soon as possible.

I didn't waste a single hour. By that afternoon I had every document and appeal prepared, and I delivered them to the courthouse myself.

The ruling would take time, but I was certain the outcome would be in my favor.

After all, when we'd remarried, Thomas had rushed through the registration at the courthouse and left me standing there alone.

Back then, I'd assumed he was too busy with work.

Now I could see it was probably Tracey pulling his strings again.

And thanks to her little stunt, Thomas hadn't had time to look closely.

He never noticed the marriage certificate was fake.

But before the final ruling came through, Thomas called first.

"Vivienne, I don't care how many days you plan to keep this tantrum going. Bring me Lily's lucky charm necklace."

"Douglas has always been in poor health. I'm going to put it on him myself."

The moment his words landed, a new message flashed across my screen.

A headline: the Gilbert family's young heir to be formally recognized at a paternity recognition banquet.

I recognized the number. Tracey had sent it.

On the other end of the line, Thomas was still pressing.

I stared at the message and let out a cold laugh.

"Thomas, have you forgotten what you said when we prayed for that necklace?"

Lily had been frail and sickly from the day she was born.

Thomas was the one who took me to the chapel to pray for a lucky charm necklace.

But the priest said Lily was marked by too much illness and misfortune, and refused to bless one for her.

We knelt and bowed our way up all 999 steps, one for every prayer, before the priest finally relented.

And now he wanted to take his own daughter's blessed necklace and pin it on that bastard child at a banquet.

Thomas went quiet for a moment, then spoke again, just as resolute.

"Bring it."

I bit down on my lip until I tasted copper.

"And if I don't?"

A careless laugh drifted through the receiver.

"Then I'll come get it myself."

"Douglas still needs Lily's bone marrow anyway. I'll collect both tomorrow."

I froze, then lost all control.

"You heartless bastard! She's your own flesh and blood!"

"I will never give in! The necklace and my daughter, you're not taking either one!"

Silence on the other end.

When he spoke again, his voice had gone ice-cold.

"I'll bring the Gilbert security detail with me. Try me."

The line went dead.

I stood there, phone clenched in a white-knuckled grip, unable to move.

The Gilbert security detail.

Back when Thomas and I had been at each other's throats in the early years, I'd seen what they were capable of.

Gilbert Corp had poured everything into building that unit from the ground up.

They were top-tier professionals and absolute thugs in equal measure.

If they showed up…

The thought snapped me back. I grabbed my phone and dialed my assistant.

"Move Lily to another hospital. Now."

The next day, Thomas came anyway.

A wall of towering bodyguards in black crowded the hallway outside the hospital room, radiating menace.

Thomas stood at the front, Tracey clinging to his arm.

He raised an eyebrow, cutting straight to the point.

"Vivienne, be a good girl. Hand over the necklace and Lily."

"Unless you want to find out how many hospitals in this city would still dare admit you and your daughter."

I didn't acknowledge him. My gaze went to the far end of the corridor.

Thomas's expression hardened at being ignored.

"Do it."

"Who dares lay a hand on my daughter?"

Thomas turned toward the voice and went still when he saw who it was.

Then he looked back at me.

He clearly had no idea that this hospital's majority shareholder was my father.

The color drained from Thomas's face.

It was dawning on him that against a large enough force, even the Gilbert elite security detail had no choice but to stand down.

After a tense exchange, he could only take Tracey and leave, humiliated.

But just before he walked away, he leaned in close and smiled for no apparent reason.

"I didn't expect you to have a card up your sleeve."

My expression didn't change.

"And I didn't expect you'd use Gilbert's security force against your own wife and daughter for the sake of your mistress."

His lips curled, and he looked past me toward the hospital room.

I shifted, blocking his line of sight without a flicker of reaction.

Thomas pulled his gaze back, amusement still in his voice.

"Why would I ever go after my own wife and daughter?"

Before I could respond, he had already stepped back and turned to leave.

Something about it didn't sit right.

Every instinct I had was screaming that something was wrong.

That same day, I had my assistant double the security outside the hospital room.

I even brought in my father's people.

After a moment's thought, I ordered my assistant to copy every frame of the hospital's surveillance footage.

Proof that Thomas had shown up with his mistress trying to take my daughter by force.

Only then did I let myself breathe.

"That should be enough. For now."

For the next few days, I never left my daughter's bedside.

Not until the scheduled date of my mother's bone marrow transplant did I finally step away.

She'd been sick since she was young. Fifteen years searching for a match, and they'd finally found one.

Once the surgery was done and both my mother and Lily were discharged, I would destroy Thomas Gilbert's reputation.

Then take my family abroad.

Leave this place forever.

Maybe it was knowing the surgery was finally happening.

My mother was still bedridden, but the color in her face looked better than it had in months.

When I arrived, the TV happened to be tuned to the news.

Gilbert Group CEO Thomas Gilbert has publicly announced a paternity recognition banquet for his son...

After a long silence, my mother took my hand. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Whatever you decide to do, I'm behind you."

"If you're tired of it, get the divorce. I'll help you raise the baby."

My nose stung. I barely held back the sob building in my throat.

She always supported me, no questions asked.

When I got married. And now, when I was ready to end it.

I said a few words to reassure her, then got up to find the doctor.

The scheduled surgery time had already passed, and no one had come in.

My mother had been resuscitated multiple times before. She'd had several critical condition notices issued.

Today was the deadline. There was no more room for delay.

I went to the nurses' station and explained the situation.

Several nurses stood up immediately and wheeled my mother into the operating room.

A short while later, one of them came back out.

"The patient has been given anesthesia. I'll go get the lead surgeon right now."

I nodded gratefully, thanking her again and again.

But minutes passed. The anesthesia had already taken effect, and the surgeon still hadn't appeared.

Then the operating room doors swung open.

Every nurse inside filed out and headed for the stairwell.

I didn't understand. I grabbed one of them at random.

"Where are you going? My mother is still waiting for her surgery!"

"Please don't leave. The doctor said her condition can't wait any longer..."

The nurse shook me off and kept walking.

"Please wait. Ms. Harding sprained her ankle, and Mr. Gilbert is furious. He ordered all staff to go treat her."

I froze. My mind went blank.

Thomas knew. He knew my mother's surgery was scheduled for today.

He did this on purpose.

Behind me, the operating room doors stood wide open. My mother's agonized moans carried out into the hall.

I shot to my feet and ran inside.

She was lying there, her face drained of all color.

I grabbed her hand.

"Mom!"

On the monitor beside her, every vital sign was plummeting.

Panic seized me.

"Mom! Are you okay? Doctor! Nurse! Is anyone there?!"

I slammed the call button over and over.

No one answered.

My mother's face had gone purple. The oxygen mask fogged in rapid, shallow bursts, and her hands were clawing at the air.

My knees buckled. I stumbled out of the operating room.

The first person I saw in a white coat, I lunged at them.

"Please, save my mother!"

"She's alone on the table with no one treating her, please..."

But one doctor after another waved me off.

Their faces were tight with discomfort.

"Mr. Gilbert gave the order. Everyone has to go attend to Ms. Harding."

Then a shrill, continuous tone cut through the air from inside the operating room.

My breath stopped. I forced myself back inside.

The line on the heart monitor had gone flat.

Her hand was stiffening in mine. No new fog appeared in the oxygen mask.

Her eyes were wide open. A single tear sat at the corner of one.

I had no strength left. My hands shook as I closed her eyes.

My brain nearly shut down.

On autopilot, I texted my assistant.

I need all the hospital surveillance footage from this morning.

Then I opened the voice recorder on my phone.

I forced myself to follow the crowd toward that room.

Tracey was sitting up in bed, surrounded by a swarm of doctors.

And Thomas was kneeling beside her, cradling her foot, rubbing ointment onto her ankle.

What a joke.

The great Thomas Gilbert, who couldn't even be bothered to hold his own daughter once.

Now those hands, the ones that commanded empires, were cradling Tracey Harding's foot.

He saw me and the corner of his mouth curled up.

"Vivienne. This is what happens when you go against me."