The air inside the hospital’s private suite smelled of medicine and was already cold, but nothing was colder than the hearts of those surrounding Elena Brooksford.
She had just given birth to her son, little Mason Colebrook, and her body trembled from exhaustion while her lips remained pale after a long and painful labor.
Instead of receiving her husband’s embrace or even a gentle kiss, a thick brown envelope landed harshly at the foot of her bed with a sound that echoed through the silent room.
“Sign it,” ordered Margaret Colebrook, her mother in law, whose elegant pearls could not hide the cruelty etched across her face.
Elena slowly lifted her gaze toward her husband, Victor Colebrook, who stood nearby with his head lowered as if avoiding the weight of his own choices.
Clinging tightly to his arm stood Vanessa Hartley, a woman Elena had long suspected, wearing a striking red dress and a smile that carried nothing but quiet venom.
“Victor, what does this mean,” Elena whispered as tears streamed down her face, her voice trembling with disbelief and heartbreak.
“That child is yours alone,” Vanessa said coldly while tightening her grip around Victor’s arm, refusing to even acknowledge the newborn as part of their family.
“The illusion is over, Elena, so sign the divorce papers and stop pretending this marriage still exists,” Vanessa added with a mocking softness that only deepened the wound.
Elena gathered her remaining strength and reached out to Victor, her fingers barely brushing his sleeve as she struggled to sit up in the bed.
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