Chapter 3
673words
"Miss, arrangements at Emma's school are complete.
James Sullivan will collect her after dismissal today."
Warmth spread through my chest as I nodded gratefully.
That afternoon, I arrived at the school well before dismissal.
The black Rolls-Royce Ghost glided silently into the parking area, drawing curious glances from other parents.
When the dismissal bell rang, children streamed from the building.
"Emma!"
I immediately spotted my daughter with her little backpack.
As I moved toward her, a figure abruptly intercepted me.
Margaret Reynolds blocked my path.
She spread her arms protectively, shielding Emma behind her.
Robert Reynolds gripped my daughter's arm with unnecessary force.
"What are you doing here? Emma is a Reynolds! The divorce agreement clearly states—custody belongs to her father!"
She glared venomously, her voice reaching a piercing pitch.
When she spotted James Sullivan emerging from the car, her eyes widened with malicious delight.
As though she'd discovered valuable ammunition.
"Oh my goodness! Everyone, look here!"
She raised her voice dramatically, slapping her thigh theatrically,
"This woman was thrown out of our home just yesterday!
Today she arrives in another man's luxury car!
Bringing her lover to her daughter's school—have you no shame?!"
James Sullivan frowned deeply, stepping forward to position himself protectively beside me.
"My relationships are none of your concern.
Return my daughter to me!" Seeing Emma's terrified, tear-streaked face made my heart constrict painfully.
"Return her to you?
So you can parade my granddaughter before your new lover? Never!"
Margaret Reynolds shouted defiantly.
Noticing the gathering crowd and raised phones recording the scene, she grew more theatrical.
I moved to retrieve Emma, but Margaret deliberately threw herself backward onto the ground, clapping her hands dramatically:
"She attacked me! The adulterous daughter-in-law wants to kidnap the child! She's assaulting an elderly woman!
Keep recording, everyone! Make her infamous! Let the world see this violent homewrecker!"
Emma's terrified sobs, Margaret's theatrical wailing, Robert's accusations, and spectators' murmurs created a suffocating cacophony.
Blood rushed to my head as darkness encroached on my vision.
The sharp scent of antiseptic penetrated my consciousness.
I opened my eyes to sterile white ceiling tiles.
Walter Jenkins and James Sullivan stood beside my bed, their expressions tense with concern.
"Miss, you're awake!" Walter's relief was palpable.
"Emma... where's my daughter?"
Memory flooded back as I threw aside the blanket, attempting to rise, but my legs buckled beneath me.
"The Reynolds have taken her temporarily.
Don't worry—the Chairman has engaged our top legal team. We'll secure custody immediately."
Walter gently restrained me. "The doctor diagnosed severe exhaustion compounded by emotional distress. You need proper rest."
Staring at the darkness beyond the window, my heart constricted painfully.
Emma had never spent a night without me—she must be terrified, crying for her mother.
"Is Father... disappointed in me?" I couldn't help asking.
Walter smiled reassuringly: "Not at all. The Chairman is deeply concerned for you.
He instructed you to rest and regain your strength.
The day after tomorrow, he'll escort you to the Blackwood Group's annual gala."
Gala?
I suddenly recalled the conversation I'd overheard before being expelled.
Ethan had whispered excitedly about the Blackwood Group's exclusive event.
"Ethan Reynolds appears on the guest list."
Walter added meaningfully.
Realization struck me with physical force.
They had orchestrated my removal to prepare Ethan for meeting the "Blackwood heiress."
They had prepared the red carpet, never suspecting who awaited at its end.
My phone chimed with Ethan's message.
"Olivia, I hear you're riding in a Rolls-Royce now. Found yourself a wealthy benefactor already?
Emma is my daughter—accept that reality.
After tomorrow's Blackwood gala, we'll exist in different worlds. Chairman Blackwood has personally expressed his appreciation for me.
Why am I even telling you this? What would a simple housewife understand about business connections?
We're finished. Stop harassing my family."
I could visualize his smug expression perfectly.
I tossed my phone aside dismissively.
He was right about one thing.
After tomorrow night, we would indeed occupy different worlds.
I hoped he would remember his words forever.
