Chapter 1

The day my son was born, I wasn't even out of the delivery room yet when my husband Andrew's mom Margaret lifted her shirt and tried to breastfeed him.

I lost it. I mean, I completely lost my mind. Andrew's whole family had to apologize, and they swore up and down that Margaret would never see my son again. I barely let it go, but I did. I had to.

Three years passed, and I thought we were done with that nightmare. Then I got a video. Margaret was holding my son, and she was breastfeeding him. She was actually doing it, and she was smiling into the camera like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"There's my good boy," she cooed. "Drink Grandma's milk, and you'll love Grandma the most." I stared at my phone, and my hands started shaking.

My vision went red, and something cold and sharp twisted in my chest. I called my boss and took emergency leave. I didn't explain, and I didn't wait for approval. I was going home, and this time I was going to burn the Wilson family to the ground.

*****

I'd just finished a meeting when Charles Wilson, Andrew's dad, sent me a message.

We barely ever talked, so I figured something urgent must've happened. But what I got was a video, and the second I opened it, my head started buzzing.

Margaret was grinning ear to ear in the video, pulling Lucas into her arms. She yanked up her shirt and shoved his face against her chest. "Come on, sweetie, time for some milk."

My son, Lucas Wilson, squirmed and tried to pull away. "Grandma, I'm three years old. I don't drink milk anymore."

"Nonsense! Three's not too old for milk. Your daddy drank till he was seven, so you can too. Come here and drink." When Lucas refused, she actually grabbed his head and forced it against her breast.

Lucas started crying, but Margaret and Charles just kept laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world.

"Drink up, sweetheart. Once you drink Grandma's milk, you'll be close to Grandma forever," Margaret said, completely ignoring Lucas' tears as she forced him to nurse.

Charles laughed even harder. "Kid, three generations of us drank from your grandma. You should be grateful."

I was furious. They'd pulled this same crap three years ago when Lucas was born, and apparently, they hadn't learned a damn thing.

Back then, I'd just given birth, and I was still weak and recovering.

The nurse took Lucas out to show Andrew and his family first.

Margaret showed up and immediately lifted her shirt to breastfeed Lucas. The nurse jumped back in shock. "What are you doing?"

"Feeding my grandson," Margaret said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She reached for the baby in the nurse's arms.

The nurse pulled Lucas back and shielded him with her body. "He doesn't need to be fed right now, and the mother brought formula. You're his grandmother. You can't breastfeed him."

"What do you know, little girl?" Margaret's voice turned harsh. "If my grandson drinks from me first, he'll bond with me instead of his mother. Hand him over right now, or I'll make your life hell when he grows up not liking me."

The nurse looked terrified, but she still refused to hand Lucas over.

That was when the medical staff wheeled me out of the delivery room, and I heard every word Margaret had just said.

I was so furious that I sat straight up in the hospital bed and started screaming at her. I told Andrew right there that I wanted a divorce.

I must have looked completely unhinged, because the entire Wilson family froze in fear.

Andrew practically fell to his knees and begged me to forgive him. His parents apologized over and over, their voices quiet and desperate.

Finally, the whole family swore in front of me that they would never let Margaret near Lucas again.

That was the only reason I calmed down. And since Andrew himself hadn't actually done anything wrong, I agreed not to go through with the divorce.

But three years had passed, and now Margaret was in my house again. And she'd gone after Lucas again. Wasn't Lucas supposed to be at kindergarten?

I didn't call Andrew to confront him. Instead, I asked for time off work and headed straight home. I needed to see exactly how much they'd been hiding from me.

When I reached the front door, I heard lively voices inside. Margaret's loud laughter rang out, and Andrew and his father were clapping and cheering along with her.

But most importantly, I heard Lucas crying.

I didn't use my key. I kicked the door open and started recording everything on my phone.

Margaret sat on the couch with her shirt half-unbuttoned, pressing Lucas' head to her chest, forcing him to nurse. Andrew and his father stood nearby, watching the scene with satisfied expressions on their faces.

The sound of the door crashing open made them all turn and stare.

"Honey, what are you doing home?" The moment Andrew saw me, his face went white as a sheet.

He rushed toward me.

"Don't move. None of you move." I shouted at him to stay back and kept my phone camera pointed straight at them.