Part 3The Heir's Price

The rewards from the elders were almost staggering.

Grandpa gave me an ocean-view villa located on the coast; the keys were placed directly on my nightstand.

Grandma brought out all the jade jewelry she had kept at the bottom of her trunk, set after set, dazzlingly green.

My father-in-law directly transferred five percent of the Vance Group's shares to my name, making me the youngest member of the group's board of directors overnight.

My mother-in-law was even more considerate, giving me a private island in the Maldives, saying I could go there to relax once I recovered.

I smiled and accepted it all.

These were all what I deserved.

What I exchanged for my child's life.

No one knew that in the deepest part of that luxurious walk-in closet, I hid a tiny corner.

There were no expensive bags or fine clothes there.

Only a small, uncarved memorial tablet made of rosewood.

With no words written on it.

In front of the tablet, I placed a pair of small, knitted booties I made myself that could never be given, and a few pitifully small baby clothes.

Every night, when all was quiet, I would lock myself in the closet.

I hugged that small tablet, stroking it over and over again.

"Baby, Mommy's here."

"Baby, today Grandpa and Grandma bought a lot of toys. If you were here, you would have them too."

"Baby, do you blame Mommy? It's Mommy's fault, failing to protect you..."

I never cried out loud, just let the tears slide down silently, soaking the wooden tablet in my arms.

Where my heart was, it felt like a hole had been torn open that could never heal. The cold wind blew in, hurting so much I couldn't breathe.

That was a secret belonging only to me and my departed child.

Ethan also returned to the main estate, but he didn't dare approach me.

Grandpa pointed his cane at him in front of everyone, calling him a bastard, saying I had just "given birth," and instead of staying with me, he was making me angry.

He was punished by being made to kneel in the family shrine all night.

He probably couldn't understand how the Chloe who once loved him more than life itself, who was completely under his control, could suddenly become like this.

He would occasionally come to the bedroom to keep me company, but more often, he came to see that child.

He would awkwardly hold him, feed him, his eyes revealing an unfamiliar thing called "fatherly love."

He stood behind me, silent for a long time, and suddenly spoke.

"Chloe, about what happened that night, I was wrong. I drank too much."

"Mia... she's just too dependent on me. Don't hold it against her," he added.

I slowly raised my head, looking at the two of us reflected in the mirror.

He was tall and handsome; I was thin and haggard.

"Hold it against her?" I chuckled lightly.

"What right do I have to hold anything against her? I couldn't even protect my own child."

His face instantly became very ugly, as if stung by my words.

"That was an accident!" He raised his voice.

"Why must you keep harping on it! I've already tried my best to compensate you!"

Compensate?

I was born into a wealthy family; money is the most useless thing to me.

I didn't want to argue with him anymore and pushed him out the door.

"Chloe, what exactly do you want?"

"What do I want?" I looked at him, my words sarcastic. "I want you to stay away from me."

Eventually, he let go of my hand.

From that day on, he rarely set foot in my room again.

We didn't even bother to maintain that paper-thin disguise between us anymore.