Chapter 7
770words
Like a rabid animal, he tore through the banquet hall, destroying everything in his path. Finally, he lunged toward me and snatched Sean from my arms.
"He's mine! He's MINE!" He clutched the child, repeating these words like a mantra, tears streaming down his handsome face—pathetic and absurd.
Eventually, the Sanders family elders intervened to end the grotesque spectacle.
Samuel was forcibly removed, still howling that I was lying, that the child was his.
I departed safely under Sebastian's protection.
By the next day, news of the canceled Sanders-Lawrence engagement had spread throughout high society.
Shortly after, Rachel was exposed for affairs with multiple wealthy businessmen and implicated in commercial fraud, leading to a formal police investigation. The evidence came from what I'd given Sebastian.
Rachel Lawrence was utterly disgraced and imprisoned.
Samuel was removed as CEO of Sanders Group by the board of directors following the scandal. His replacement? His younger brother, Sebastian.
Sebastian came to see me on a beautiful spring day, holding Sean in his arms and making him giggle with delight—a perfect picture of father-son bonding.
"Winnie," he gazed at me, his eyes tender enough to melt ice, "now that all obstacles are removed, we can..."
"We?" I interrupted, taking the child from his arms. "Sebastian Sanders, have you misunderstood something?"
His smile froze.
"Did you think I orchestrated all this to be with you?" I looked at him as if he were a simpleton. "From beginning to end, I merely used your pathetic affection for me and your jealousy toward your brother."
"You!" His face drained of color.
"I admit, the child is yours. But that doesn't grant you the right to be his father." I clutched Sean protectively, my gaze icy. "Sanders men are all alike—equally selfish, equally corrupt."
"I won't let my son become another Samuel Sanders—or another you."
I turned and walked away deliberately, cradling my child. Behind me, Sebastian's furious roar echoed.
I didn't look back.
I had won. Everyone who hurt me had paid the price.
But why did my heart still feel so hollow?
I looked down at the sleeping child in my arms, and tears finally fell.
I took my son and fled that suffocating city.
With my remaining savings, I rented a small cottage in a remote coastal village.
My health deteriorated rapidly. The stomach cancer had reached its terminal stage, and doctors gave me little time.
I knew death approached.
But I couldn't die. My Sean was still so young—he couldn't be motherless.
I began painting frantically, day and night. I captured our cottage, the gardenias by the door, the azure sea beyond our window. I poured all my love and longing into each brushstroke.
Samuel found me while I was sketching by the sea.
He'd lost alarming weight and looked haggard beyond recognition. The sharpness and pride in his eyes had vanished, replaced by exhaustion and sorrow. He kept his distance, standing far away like a discarded shadow.
For two months, he'd searched for us like a madman. I heard he'd sold his company shares and spent a fortune to track us down.
He came daily, never speaking, just watching from afar. Sometimes he'd leave fresh groceries at my doorstep before disappearing.
He thought I didn't know, but he slept in his car each night at the nearby intersection, like a loyal but pitiful dog.
Today, he finally broke his silence, approaching me and falling to his knees with a dull thud.
The sea breeze ruffled his hair, revealing bloodshot eyes.
"Winnie, I'm sorry."
"I know it's too late for apologies."
"But I'm begging you—please give me one more chance?"
"I'll raise Sean as my own son. I'll give him the very best of everything."
I set down my brush and regarded him, finding the situation darkly ironic.
"Your own son?" I laughed bitterly. "Samuel Sanders, you truly never quit, do you?"
His face drained of color.
Just then, Sebastian arrived—likely having followed Samuel.
Seeing Samuel on his knees, satisfaction flashed in Sebastian's eyes. "Brother, what are you doing? Winnie doesn't love you anymore. Why humiliate yourself?"
He turned to me, his expression softening instantly: "Winnie, come back with me. Sean is my son—I'm his father. I can give him a complete family."
I looked at the two men before me—one I had once deeply loved, one I had coldly used.
I felt nothing but disgust.
"Get out! Both of you!" I seized my drawing board and hurled it violently at them.
"I've said it before—my son has NOTHING to do with the Sanders family!"
"Get out! And stay out!"
