BILLIONAIRE'S DIVORCED WIFE IS A COP

The pain was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It felt as though my entire body was being torn apart, and no number of breathing techniques could reduce the pain that surged through me. I gripped the bed rails tightly.

"You're doing great, Racheal. Just a little more." Dr. Fred Clark's voice was steady, a beacon in the whirlwind of pain and fear. His calm and familiar presence was the only thing grounding me in that moment. He is my ex-boyfriend’s brother.

With one final, excruciating push, I felt a release and heard the most beautiful sound in the world—a baby's first cry. Tears dripped down my face as they placed my baby girl on my chest. Her tiny body, warm and wriggling, was a miracle. I looked down at her, marveling at her perfect little fingers and the soft fuzz of hair on her head.

But there was no time to linger in this moment of happiness. Another wave of pain hit, and I knew my son was coming. I already knew it would be a son because I had been pregnant with twins—a boy and a girl.

"You're almost there, Racheal," Fred reassured me, his hands gentle but firm as he guided me through the birth of my second child. Two nurses were also in the room, lending their support. I screamed, every fiber of my being consumed by the effort, and then there he was—my baby boy.

Suddenly Mrs. Bennett, my ex-husband’s mother, Benjamin, and two of her female workers appeared before me. “Hand over the baby to us!” She yelled. She grabbed my son away from Fred, handed him over to one of her maids, and grabbed my daughter.

"No! Please, don't take my babies!" I cried, my voice breaking with desperation. My heart felt like it was being ripped from my chest. "Please, Mrs. Bennett, I need to hold my children!"

"You know the condition, Racheal. We agreed to this." At that moment, I remembered the contract I had signed while I was pregnant to give them my unborn baby at birth. Even though I wanted to hold my babies, I knew there was nothing I could do but accept defeat. It was in the divorce contract that I was going to give them my unborn baby.

“You can’t just take her babies away from her; a mother needs to hold her children immediately after birth!” Fred said it sternly as he stood in front of Mrs. Bennett.

“Please stay out of this; you have no idea our agreement with Racheal.” Mrs. Bennett said it with a cold tone.

“I don’t care about your agreement with her, but I can’t just let you walk out with the twins.” Fred was not backing down; I could tell he was worried about me. Even though he had no idea what I had gotten myself into,

I saw Mrs. Bennett's gaze soften. I had no idea what she was thinking at that moment, but she handed my daughter back to Fred. “Here you go, but I will leave with the baby boy.” She said it sternly.

“Please, don’t take my baby boy; I need to hold him!” I begged; at this point, I didn’t care about the agreement that we had, but I didn’t want them to take my son away.

Mrs. Bennett shifted her gaze over to me. "Oh, shut it! Have you forgotten our agreement? I was being generous, giving you, your daughter, but don’t push your luck.”

I knew I had to accept defeat. "Please," I begged, my voice a raw whisper. "Please take care of him. Promise me you'll take care of him."

She nodded curtly, a gesture that felt more like a dismissal than an assurance. My son’s cries grew distant as he was carried away, and my heart shattered into pieces. I turned back to Fred, my vision blurry with tears.

"You did great," he said softly, wiping a tear from my cheek. He handed me my daughter, her warmth a fragile comfort amidst the storm of loss raging inside me.

“Thanks a lot, Fred.” I had to thank him for helping me out. He has no idea what I got myself into, but he still helped me out.

“Don’t mention.” He muttered.

"I don't know if I can do this," I whispered, clutching my baby girl close.

"How can I live knowing he's out there without me?" Even though I knew the agreement I had made with Benjamin and her mother during the divorce, at the end of the day, I felt maybe she wouldn’t take my children away from me. But now I lost my son to her and her Benjamin.

Fred’s eyes softened, and he placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"You're one of the strongest people I know, Racheal. You’ll find a way. And you have her. She needs you."

I nodded, though it felt like an impossible task. I looked down at my daughter, her innocent eyes closed in peaceful sleep. For her, I would find the strength. For her, I would survive this heartbreak. But the ache for my son would never truly fade, a constant reminder of the price I had paid.

***

It was a bright morning. I watched Kyla, now four and a half, carefully draw at the kitchen table. She looked up and caught my eye, giving me a bright smile that lit up her entire face.

"Look, Mommy! I drew a picture of us," she said, holding up her masterpiece. Two stick figures, one tall and one short, stood hand in hand under a blue sky.

"It's beautiful, sweetheart," I said, my heart swelling with pride and love.

"You have such a talent."

She beamed, the praise meaning the world to her. I glanced at the clock, and my stomach sank a little. Time was always against us. I had to leave for work soon, and the guilt gnawed at me. I was a working mother, and that often meant missing out on moments with her that I could never get back.