Chapter 1

My son Lucas Grant was made to call another woman Mom.

Charles Grant had his arm wrapped around Isabelle Lane, sneering coldly at the servants.

He said, "If Olivia Lynn throws one more tantrum, send her straight to the hospital. That's exactly where she belongs."

When speaking of me, the rightful mistress of this villa, the staff all echoed the same cruel sentiment.

"A lunatic with a shattered mind is in no way fit to be a mother."

No one seemed to remember the day Charles married me. He'd held me like a priceless treasure and promised everyone openly, "This is my beloved wife. She is gentle and timid. I ask that you all treat her well."

Everyone expected me to endure it all once more, to swallow the agony of having my own son stolen from me, and continue playing the part of the deranged woman in front of Charles.

My dignity lay in tatters, and my sanity was constantly called into question.

But this time, I was done with Charles for good.

*****

The air conditioning in the hall was blasting, making the whole place feel freezing.

I stood frozen by the sofa, my gaze fixed beyond Charles's broad shoulders.

My eyes locked onto that tiny figure.

Lucas was clutching the hem of Isabelle's white dress.

He was only four years old.

Lucas looked at me like he was on guard.

There was fear in his eyes, like he was staring at a monster.

I couldn't stop trembling.

My legs were like lead, refusing to budge.

But I still reached out my hand to Lucas.

My fingertips stiffly curled in midair.

"Charles." My voice came out dry and raspy. "Let me hold him. Just for a second."

Lucas was my son, the child I carried in my womb for nine months.

He was the baby I brought into this world after three days and nights of agonizing pain.

Charles remained completely unmoved. He stepped forward, blocking my view with absolute precision. He completely cut off my only chance to see Lucas.

"Lucas needs an emotionally stable mother," Charles said. He looked down at me, towering over me.

His tone left no room for negotiation. "Not some patient who could lose control at any moment."

The word "patient" instantly triggered memories from three years back.

I had just gotten off the delivery table, so weak I could barely keep my eyes open.

A bunch of orderlies in white coats barged into my hospital room.

They pinned me to the gurney and strapped me down, rough and merciless.

Charles stood not far away, watching me with a sad, pitying look as I struggled.

He told everyone I had severe postpartum depression and was a danger to myself.

And like that, I was sent off to Hillcrest Wellness Center.

I endured three whole years. I suffered through over a thousand days and nights of being drugged against my will. I also endured countless psychological evaluations that pushed me to the verge of a breakdown.

My stomach twisted with nausea.

My chest was so tight, I felt like I couldn't breathe.

I clenched my jaw and took a sudden step forward.

I wanted to get past Charles, to reach for Lucas.

Suddenly, two strong grips clamped down on my shoulders.

The bodyguards on either side forced me back into place.

My arms were wrenched behind my back, my joints throbbing with pain.

"Let go of me," I cried out, struggling to break free.

Charles's brows furrowed as he swung his arm and slammed a file down on the coffee table. White sheets were scattered all over the floor.

The top page was boldly titled "Depression Relapse Assessment," the words glaring in black ink.

"This report says you're still a threat," Charles said. He adjusted his suit cuffs with slow, methodical movements.

"For Lucas's safety, you're not allowed to step outside your room while you're in this villa," he declared.

He wanted to lock me up.

He was trying to crush me again, using the same cruel tactics as before.

He was stripping me of any chance at a normal life.

I stared at him, watching as he shielded the two behind him.

The absurdity of it all reached its peak within me.

"Charles." I fixed my eyes on him, unblinking. "Am I Lucas's real mother or not? What gives you the right to keep me from him?"

Charles didn't even glance my way. His eyes were icy, full of scrutiny.

"Isabelle is more qualified than you," he said, his voice emotionless. His words dripped with arrogant certainty.

"Going crazy won't help you, Olivia," he said. "When you learn to humble yourself, maybe then we'll talk about letting you see Lucas."

He was waiting for me to break down.

He wanted me to relive the despair of the past three years, to grovel on the floor, crying and begging him for a little pity.

He wanted to stand over me with that superior attitude, crushing me under his heel.

But I didn't give in.

I bit down hard on my lower lip until the salty coppery taste of blood seeped into my mouth.

Warm tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but I blinked them back, refusing to let a single tear fall.

I let my hand fall slow and defeated and withdrew the plea that hung in the air.

"I got it," I said.

My voice came out eerily calm.

There was no hysteria and no trace of begging in my tone.

Isabelle caught sight of me, a subtle, almost unnoticeable smile tugging at her lips.

"Charles, it's time for Lucas's nap," she said gently.

She effortlessly took Lucas's hand, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

She carried herself with all the poise of the lady of the house.

Charles nodded, hesitating for a split second before turning away.

"As long as you play nice," he said, his voice dripping with condescension, like he was tossing me a bone. "You'll have plenty of chances later on."

Charles and Isabelle walked side by side toward the stairs.

Lucas, his little hand in Isabelle's, never once looked back at me.

The hall fell silent once more.

I looked down, my eyes fixed on the medical records scattered across the floor.

Each one was marked with that harsh, glaring red diagnosis stamp.

That last bit of hope I had for Charles finally died.

In its place, a cold, dead hardness settled in my heart.

Charles had no idea that I would never beg him again.

I was going to take Lucas and leave.