Chapter 2
I flashed a mocking smile, ignored her words, picked up my daughter, and walked out.
“Jackson’s blocked my number, so I can’t reach him right now. But I’ll make sure he signs the divorce papers by this Saturday’s Harrison family dinner at the latest.”
As I stepped outside the hospital, a chill ran through me.
My phone buzzed. Vanessa had just posted on Instagram.
“Love is the reward for those brave enough to claim it. Three years ago, I wasn’t brave enough and
let someone else have you. Thankfully, I found my courage, and you… you were still waiting for me
all along.”
The photo showed her and Emma pressed cheek–to–cheek with Jackson, all smiles.
My daughter weakly lifted her head, confusion in her eyes.
“Mommy, why can Auntie and Emma take such nice photos with Daddy? Didn’t Daddy say he hates
taking pictures?”
Seeing her hurt expression made my heart ache.
In all her young life, she’d never had a single photo with Jackson because he “hated” it–or at least
that’s what he always told us.
I scrolled down Vanessa’s profile. Every. Single. Post. Featured Jackson with her and Emma.
Each caption oozed happiness and perfect family bliss.
She’d even tagged me in the post to make sure I wouldn’t miss it.
I turned off my phone and stroked my daughter’s hair.
“I guess it’s because Daddy loves them, sweetie.”
Jackson had loved Vanessa since they were teenagers. That was a bond I could never break, no matter how hard I tried. Despite being his wife for three years–cooking his favorite meals, keeping
a perfect home, being the ideal mother and wife–his heart remained locked to me.
17:20
Ex’s Betrayal? Now I’m a Billionaire Boss!
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Chapter 2
“So Daddy doesn’t take pictures with us because he doesn’t love you and me?”
I opened my mouth, struggling to find a way to spare her from the brutal truth.
My phone rang–unknown number. I answered to hear Jackson’s icy command.
“I’m sending you an address. Go pick up the dress Vanessa prepared and bring it over.”
“No. I won’t.”
His tone sharpened with irritation. “Mia, you’re in no position to refuse.”
My heart sank as I looked down at the medical tape still visible on my daughter’s neck.
Half a month ago, Vanessa had a sudden craving for apple pie. Jackson called and ordered me to
bake one and deliver it to the Anderson house. What he conveniently forgot to mention was Emma’s
apple allergy.
So when Emma took that box from me, I simply turned and left, not staying a minute longer than
necessary.
I never imagined that one simple act would turn me into the laughingstock of our entire social
circle–or that my own daughter would nearly pay with her life.
During these two weeks while my child fought for her life in the hospital, Jackson never visited once.
Not even a single phone call.
He was right–I had taken Vanessa’s place as Mrs. Harrison, so I wasn’t in a position to refuse his
demands. The old me would have jumped to please him.
But now? I was about to hand that title right back.
17:21
