Chapter 3

3.

I first met Janelle during my junior year of college.

She was a freshman back then, vibrant and full of bright laughter.

One look was all it took for me to fall completely in love with her.

I knew very well that a kid from an ordinary working-class family stood no chance with the heiress of the powerful Brooks dynasty.

All I could do was bury my feelings deep down and watch over her from the shadows.

I carried that silent crush for six long years.

Then came the night everything changed.

I was leaving a gathering with friends when I saw Janelle stumbling down the hallway, flushed red and leaning against the wall for support.

Something was terribly wrong.

I rushed over to steady her, only to find her skin burning with an unnatural heat.

She was barely conscious, whimpering in distress while clinging tightly to my shirt.

Unable to leave her in that state, I scooped her into my arms and ran toward the parking lot.

"Janelle! Hang in there, I'm taking you to the hospital right now!"

The moment we got into the car, she wrapped herself around me.

She clung to my neck, refusing to let go.

Worried about her condition yet terrified of hurting her, I forced myself to pry her hands away from my chest.

Instantly, she burst into tearful sobs.

"You don't love me anymore... I knew you had another woman in your heart..."

Her vulnerable, tearful gaze stirred something deep within me, while her words pierced straight through my soul.

A bitter smile touched my lips.

How could I not love her?

While I was still frozen in shock, she threw herself back into my arms, tilted her head up, and pressed her lips against mine.

Our eyes met.

For a brief, desperate second, I wished with all my heart that she was sober.

I asked her repeatedly who I was.

All she whispered against my lips was Felix's name.

When she woke up the next morning, she screamed, accusing me of taking advantage of her and calling me a monster.

I couldn't defend myself; in a way, she wasn't wrong.

Soon after, she discovered she was pregnant.

The child was mine.

She wanted to get rid of the pregnancy.

Her father adamantly refused, declaring that the Brooks family needed an heir.

That was how Milo came into this world.

The old man adored his grandson beyond measure.

To ensure Milo grew up in a complete family, he forced Janelle to marry me.

I still remember the day of our wedding; Janelle's eyes were brimming with pure hatred.

She had warned me coldly back then.

"Franklin, don't you dare dream that I will ever have feelings for you in this lifetime!"

Her words had stabbed right into my heart.

Yet I endured it.

I endured her coldness for all these years.

Now I had finally come to my senses, but the price was far too steep.

I had lost my precious boy forever.

A wave of burning sorrow rushed to my eyes.

I stood up and went into the bedroom to pack my things, ready to leave with Milo's ashes as soon as the divorce was finalized.

Suddenly, the front door swung open.

Janelle marched back in, with Felix trailing right behind her.

Janelle glared at me, her eyes spitting fire.

"Franklin, look at the wonderful son you raised! What a manipulative little monster!"

"He acts like a well-behaved dog in front of me, but behind my back, he's pure evil!"

"So young, yet his heart is so vicious―"

Crash!

I slammed my suitcase onto the floor, cutting off her vile words.

What kind of mother on earth would compare her own child to a dog?

Felix looked frightened, timidly clutching the corner of Janelle's jacket.

"Janelle, please don't... It's all my fault... Don't fight because of me..."

Janelle turned around, comforting him with infinite tenderness, but when her eyes fell back on me, they were filled with venom once again.

"Getting bold, aren't you, Franklin?"

She glanced at the luggage on the floor and sneered.

"Planning to take Milo and run away?"

Listening to her mocking tone, the veins on my temples throbbed with fury.

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

"What am I trying to say? I should be asking what the hell you're trying to pull!"

Her voice cracked with booming anger.

Janelle hurled a cardboard delivery box onto the floor, spilling its contents across the tiles.

It was a plush toy, stabbed through with dozens of sharp sewing needles until it was mangled and grotesque.

It looked horrifying.

Even so, I recognized it immediately.

It was one of the many toys in our son's room―the very one Felix had gifted him.

Janelle snapped, "Look familiar?"

I looked up at her, my heart unexpectedly growing calm.

"Are you trying to claim I made our son send this package to him?"

"Isn't that exactly what happened?"

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