He Gave Our Baby To His Mistress Then I Was Reborn Chapter 01
The second I finish giving birth to my twins, I’m going to crawl to my in-laws and beg them to let me divorce their son.
But first, I have to switch my baby back.
“Yvonne, look. This is our son. Isn’t he beautiful?”
Preston lifts the baby from the bassinet, cradling him gently, his face full of fatherly love.
“He’s the future of Whitmore Corp. You have to raise him right. No formula. Breastfeed him, okay?”
On the other side of the room, my daughter is screaming her lungs out. He doesn’t even glance at her.
I stare at him. He’s wearing a sharp suit, his face lit up with joy. He’s still murmuring instructions to me, but all I can hear is the ringing in my own ears.
The C-section wound throbs like someone’s twisting a knife in it. The air smells clean, of lavender and fresh linens. Not blood. Not the metallic stench of an underground operating table.
My whole body jolts.
I’m back.
I’ve been sent back to the day I gave birth.
Preston straightens up and pushes the baby into my arms. “He keeps rooting. He’s probably hungry. Feed him, sweetheart. I’ve got something to handle. I’ll be right back.”
Then he’s gone, shoes clicking down the hall.
I look down.
The baby in my arms is red and wrinkled, skin blotchy and dark. But the son I remember was pale and pink, with big eyes.
This isn’t my baby.
The door clicks shut. I swing my legs off the bed, biting down on the scream that wants to rip out of my stitches, and I follow him.
Third floor. VIP wing. I remember every step.
The door to Suite 302 is cracked open. Through the gap I see roses. Hundreds of roses.
And on the bed, wrapped in fine silk, is my husband’s mistress. Sierra Lockwood. Her face glowing, rosy.
Preston sits beside her, one arm draped around her shoulders.
“Baby, you did so good. He’s perfect. I already dropped him off with Yvonne. He’ll be the Whitmore firstborn, heir to the whole empire with his name on it.”
Sierra buries her face in his chest, sobbing prettily.
“Preston, I can’t do this. I’ll never see him grow up. I might as well die.”
“Shh. Eighteen years, baby. That’s it. The second he inherits, we bring you both home. You’ll be Mrs. Whitmore, for real.”
“But what about Yvonne? She won’t just let this go.”
Preston’s face darkens.
“She brought this on herself. If she leaves quietly, fine. If she doesn’t, I don’t mind sending her somewhere permanent. Her family’s powerful, but even the Sinclairs can’t investigate a depressed woman’s suicide.”
He pulls her closer.
“Just hang on a little longer. I still need her family’s backing. I’ll play the loving husband. All of this is for us. For our son.”
Sierra hesitates. “And… the other baby? What if I can’t take care of him properly?”
Preston laughs.
“Don’t stress. If he doesn’t make it, he doesn’t make it. Weak stock. I only have one son. Ours. Lucky.”
She pulls him down onto the bed and they start making love, right there, like she didn’t just give birth an hour ago.
A nurse rounds the corner. I duck out of sight, heart slamming.
When they finish, Preston helps Sierra up and walks her out of the room. The moment they turn the corner, I bolt inside.
I cross the room in three strides and swap the babies.
By the time I make it back to my own bed with my son in my arms, I realize I’m drenched in sweat and the incision is screaming.
I hold my son against my chest and I cry until I can’t breathe.
This time, baby. This time Mommy’s got you.
This time, I’m going to burn them both to the ground.