The Don Waste My Child Chapter 06

The Don Waste My Child Chapter 06

The slap was still ringing in my nerves.

My mother and Kane’s mother hovered beside me, too busy checking my face. What dignity was there left to protect?

I almost laughed. The motion pulled at my swollen cheek.

“Call the police.”

“I want a medical examination. Evidence.”

I looked at Kane. Then at Ivy—her eyes wet, her knees still on the floor.

“I’ll see you both at the station.”

Kane froze. That one glance—light, empty, the way you’d glance at a stranger on the street—pinned him in place.

Ivy clawed at his pant leg. “Kane. Kane—what do we do?”

He didn’t stop. His foot kicked her hand away.

When Ivy’s mother heard the words—fifteen days in detention—the fire went out. She turned desperately.

“Kane, you have power. You can fix this. Help your auntie. I don’t want to be locked up! Feifei—tell him!”

Kane said nothing.

“Kane—didn’t you say you were going to marry Feifei? You’re protecting an outsider over your own family?”

Then Kane’s mother moved.

She walked to her son—slow, deliberate steps—and slapped him across the face. Hard. His head snapped to the side.

“Kane Mortti. Explain yourself. Right now. Every single word. Who exactly is your family?”

His jaw locked. Nothing came out.

The words he couldn’t say—I could.

I told them everything. From the beginning. The late nights with Ivy. The “business trips.” The company gala. The wedding. The fall. The blood. The hospital. The empty bed. The house where Ivy’s mother cooked dinner while I was still bleeding.

The more I spoke, the tighter the veins on Kane’s forearms pulled against his skin.

Another slap. This time—my mother’s hand.

Her face was red. Her hands trembled. “Kane. Do you remember what you said to me the first time we met? You said I could trust you with Lili. You said you would love her. Protect her.”

“This is how you loved her?”

He had no answer.

My mother took my arm. We were leaving. Kane’s mother followed a few steps, then stopped—caught between her son and what he’d done.

I turned to her. “Auntie. I’m sorry you had to see this.”

She nodded—helpless. “We’ve wronged you. And your mother. I never imagined my son could do this.”

She had been talking about engagement dates just that afternoon. When to set the wedding. When the grandchildren might come.

All of it—gone.

“Auntie.” My voice was steady. “I’m going to sue Kane. The miscarriage—he’s responsible for that too.”

“I thought about letting it go. For your sake. For both families. For the years.” I paused. “But none of this should have happened to me.”

People warned me later. Couples. Accidents. Kane’s legal team. Best I’d get was a settlement. Money for silence.

I didn’t care.

Kane had said, “The baby’s gone—just let it go.”

But I couldn’t let it go. I wanted an answer. I wanted an ending.

Even if the ending was us—years of history, years of loving him—standing on opposite sides of a courtroom.