The Anniversary Gift My Son Gave Me Was Hiding My Husband’s Biggest Secret Chapter 07

The Anniversary Gift My Son Gave Me Was Hiding My Husband’s Biggest Secret Chapter 07

But my revenge wasn’t over.

Serena was the mastermind. So was Owen.

Even my biological parents and my adoptive parents, none of them were getting away.

I handed all my evidence to the police. Then I contacted a lawyer and leaked everything to the press.

The headlines were explosive. “Wealthy Family Surrogacy Scam,” “Imposter Heiress Steals Real Heiress’s Body,” “Husband and Mistress Drive Wife to Suicide.”

The internet exploded.

Sterling Group stock crashed. The Ashford estate was swarmed by reporters.

My biological mother called me, crying, begging me to drop the charges.

“Freya, Serena is already dead. Just leave your brother-in-law alone.”

Brother-in-law?

I laughed.

So that was it. All along, in their minds, Owen was Serena’s husband.

I hung up and blocked her number.

But that still wasn’t enough.

I hired the best lawyers I could find and sued everyone I could.

Owen Sterling-first-degree murder.

Harold and Eleanor Ashford-conspiracy to commit bodily harm, being an accessory.

My adoptive parents, Bruce and Martha Crowley-child trafficking, conspiracy to commit fraud. Losing me as a child wasn’t an accident. They took the Ashfords’ money and sold me on purpose.

Back then, the Ashfords had their celestial alignments read. The fortune said I clashed with Harold’s destiny.

So they deliberately sold me. Then they brought Serena home.

All those years, they pretended to feel guilty. Pretended they wanted to make amends. It was just go let my guard down so I’d marry Owen without a fight and become his vessel.

In court, they cried and said they didn’t mean to. That they’d been tricked by a fortune teller.

The judge asked, “Then why, after you found your daughter, didn’t you report the traffickers to the police? Why did you marry her into the Sterling family and make her a surrogate? Why didn’t you

tell her the secret about the alpaca?”

They had no answers.

The day the verdict came down, I stood outside the courthouse for a while.

Owen got eight years. Harold and Eleanor Ashford got five. My adoptive parents each got four.

Liam was placed with distant relatives of the Ashfords.

Because he wasn’t related to me by blood.

I wasn’t his real mother. I had no custody rights. And I didn’t want any.

I went to see him one last time.

Liam was still crying and screaming, “Bad woman! Give me back

my

mommy!”

That was the last time I ever saw him.

After I moved out of the villa, I rented a small apartment on the south side of town. Five hundred square feet. Enough for me.

I put two pots of pothos on the windowsill. When the sun came in, the leaves sparkled.

I went to the hospital for a full checkup. The doctor said everything was normal.

The insomnia, the phantom sounds, the nightmares that had tortured me in my past life-they never came back.

I also went back to Hermit’s Retreat on the edge of town.

The hermit sage was drying herbs in the courtyard. When he saw me, he smiled.

“The curse has turned back on her. Your soul is stable. That child was only tied to you by surrogacy, not blood. You don’t need to carry him in your heart anymore.”

nodded and left five thousand dollars as offerings.

The sage didn’t take it. “Use it for something meaningful.”

I used part of the assets I’d gotten from the divorce to start a nonprofit foundation. It helped women who’d been deceived by their families and used as baby-making machines.

Lawyers. Therapists. Legal aid. All free.

That night, I went home, sat on the balcony, and held a cup of tea.

The streetlights were on outside. A kid was shouting “Mommy” somewhere below. I didn’t turn around.

I thought about that wedding anniversary. Liam leading the alpaca through the door, saying in his little voice, “Mommy, this is my gift for you.”

I smiled slightly. And closed the window.