Chapter 2

But I managed to keep my cool and gently asked, "Sweetheart, who is this 'she' you're talking about?"

Just as I finished speaking, the front door suddenly burst open with a bang.

The crash of the door slamming into the wall made Harry go weak at the knees.

He instinctively ducked behind me.

"It's Imelda Lockhart," Harry said. "She's here. Let's run!"

Her footsteps drew closer, and her shrill voice pierced through my eardrums.

"Come here, Harry. Let Mommy check if you've behaved today."

I planted my hands on my hips, shielding Harry behind me like a fierce mother hen guarding her chick.

Just in time. I was about to find out who had the guts to bully my kid.

Imelda appeared at the doorway, rocking a seriously sexy look.

She had on a low-cut camisole, a lace miniskirt with a thigh-high slit, and sparkling four-inch heels.

When she spotted me in Harry's room, she gasped in surprise.

"Who are you?" she snapped.

I stood in front of her, looking every bit like a mama bear ready to fight for her cub.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm Nadine Connor, Harry's real mom," I said.

Imelda let out a mocking laugh. "Who let this stray in? Everyone knows Dylan's wife died ages ago. Harry's my son now."

She towered over Harry, arms folded, looking down her nose at him. "Come on, darling, tell this bitch if I'm your mom."

Harry clenched his fists so tight his nails dug into his palms, biting his lip hard, too terrified to utter a single word.

Imelda, seeing his reaction, suddenly grabbed the vase nearby and smashed it on the floor.

Glass shards scattered everywhere, and one instantly slashed a bloody line across Harry's arm.

He didn't even flinch, acting as if he couldn't feel the pain at all. His only concern was quickly tucking the wound under his sleeve.

"Are you deaf? Get over here, now!" Imelda barked at Harry.

Harry took a step forward but I held him back, keeping him right where he was.

Before I knew it, my other hand landed squarely on Imelda's face.

The slap echoed through the room, loud enough to make everyone freeze.

"How dare you hurt my son? Are you courting death? Tired of living, huh?" I snarled.

Imelda was totally stunned, glaring at me. "Do you have any idea who you're messing with?

"I'm the eldest daughter of the Lockhart family, and Dylan's fiancée. How dare you hit me? He'll make you pay for this."

At that, Harry's fear spiked. He looked even more terrified.

Harry gripped my arm for dear life, his voice shaky. "Mom, let's leave. If you hit her, Dad's gonna lose it."

Harry was only ten years old.

I couldn't help but wonder what he'd gone through to become so skittish.

I scooped him up and gently placed him on the bed.

"Don't be scared, sweetheart. I'm right here. No one gets to touch you, no matter who they are," I said.

Once Harry settled down, his big, tearful eyes were full of grievance and sorrow.

I glanced around, then yanked a table leg off without a second thought.

Imelda just stood there, all smug. "What are you doing? You better give up now. Drop the tough act. You're not scaring anyone."

I ignored her, swept my hand, and slammed the bedroom door shut with a loud bang.

"So you're the big shot, huh? Dylan's fiancée and all that?" I shot back with a smirk.

I swung the table leg at Imelda again and again. Her skimpy clothes were soon streaked with blood.

But I held back. They were all flesh wounds, nothing serious.

Once I was done, I tossed her out the door without a second thought.

"Go tell Dylan these injuries are from me. If he's got a problem, tell him to drag his ass back here and deal with me himself," I yelled.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, looking at me like I was a legendary hero who'd descended from the heaven.

He flung his arms around me, holding on as if he'd never let go.

"Mom, it's really you. You're back!" he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "Everyone else just ordered me around and bullied me. Only you stood up for me, Mom."

I went to the bathroom and washed the blood off my hands.

Then I came back, ran my fingers through his hair, feeling a pang in my chest for my boy.

"Let Mom handle all the dirty work," I murmured. "You, sweetheart, just have to live your life. That's enough."

The first thing I did when I got home was swap out all the dark furniture and curtains in Harry's room.

I replaced them with cute cartoon ones.

That pitch-black environment would make anyone depressed if they stayed in it too long, let alone a kid.

Once I finished decorating with warm colors and pulled back the sheer curtains, golden sunlight flooded the room, filling it with hope.

"That's more like it. No kid should be living like an old man every day," I said with a grin.

Harry pouted. "But Dad says it's not mature."

"That's bullshit," I shot back.

I pulled him in for a quick hug and kissed his forehead.

"He's a man. What does he know about raising kids? Kids are supposed to be happy," I said.

Harry said sweetly, "Okay, I'll listen to you, Mom."

With the day still early, I grabbed Harry and we headed out to hit the shops.

Back in my previous life, I barely got to enjoy the money I earned. This time, I was gonna treat myself right.

I gave Harry a fresh new look from head to toe. He was practically glowing with energy.

He sported a superhero jacket and sneakers. Even his long johns had cute cartoon print on them.