I Raised His 99 Children to Save My Son Chapter 02

I Raised His 99 Children to Save My Son Chapter 02

Once, to beg for cord bl0od to save my son, I threw away every shred of dignity to please Kian and every pregn@nt mistress he dragged home.

I poured their tea, did their laundry, cooked their meals, and even acted like some lowly maid in public, waiting on them hand and foot, letting them mock me and walk all over me.

Everyone thought I was pathetically in love with Kian Steele. So desperate that I’d even dote on his bastards.

The children at Steele Academy Preschool were coached by their mothers to treat me like hired help. They barked orders at me and made my life he//ll.

I endured it all. For my son.

But now my son was gone.

I had no reason left to endure. No one left to fear.

I turned and walked upstairs. I shut the bedroom door behind me and started packing.

These three months since my son died, I spent an entire month just accepting he was gone. I cried myself to exhaustion every day, drowning in a pain so sharp I could barely breathe.

The second month, I traveled alone. I visited every place my son had ever begged to see with his mom and dad. Places we never took him.

The third month, I quietly filed my resignation as headmistress of Steele Academy Preschool. I cut the last thread tying me to Kian’s twisted, selfish affairs.

I planned to give my son one final birthday. Then I’d leave this hellhole forever and never look back.

I’d barely folded a few blouses when the sound of demolition exploded from the next room.

“Tear down this whole wall! Get rid of that disgusting old bed. The crib goes here.”

“Everything in this room goes. All of it. I won’t have my baby breathing in bad luck.”

My heart seized. I flew out of my room like a woman possessed.

And then I saw it.

Camille stood there, directing a construction crew to destroy my son’s room.

The birthday party I’d spent two whole weeks planning—balloons, cake, his favorite toys, the photos covering every wall—all destroyed, ripped to shreds.

“Who gave you permission?! Who do you think you are to touch my son’s room?!”

Camille barely glanced at me. She stroked her pregn@nt belly, smug and unbothered.

“Kian told me to pick any room I wanted. He said this one gets the best light. Perfect nursery for my baby.”

“He also said that preschool is too crowded, too common. My child deserves the finest room in Steele Mansion.”

My eyes snapped to Kian. He stood off to the side, watching indifferently.

“Don’t be dramatic, Helena. It’s just a room. I’ll renovate another one for you. It’s not like the boy’s coming home anytime soon. Empty room’s a waste.”

Anytime soon?

Not anytime soon. Never. My son was never coming home.

The image of him dying alone in that hospital bed, crying out for his mother, ripped through me. I couldn’t breathe.

My vision went red. I stared at Camille’s swollen stomach.

“Why?! Why does your child get to be healthy? Held and cherished? My son suffered every day of his life! He couldn’t even have one decent birthday!”

“Why did everyone torment him?! And now you’re destroying his final room?!”

“Camille Hale! I’ll kill you!”

Every ounce of grief and hatred I’d buried exploded. I lunged at her belly like a wild animal.

Camille screamed and collapsed to the floor, completely caught off guard.

But Kian didn’t rush to help her. Not even as she turned frighteningly pale.

He ran straight for me.

He grabbed me from behind, arms locked around my trembling body, holding me back.

“Helena! Calm down!”

“I swear to you—I’ll save the cord bl0od this time. I’ll find a way to treat him. Just calm down. Please.”