Ignoring The Child

Desmond choked on his breath, his face turning a blotchy, guilty red. "N-no! Of course not! It's just—"

​Realizing his own bluster was failing, Desmond’s eyes darted down to the child standing beside him. He grabbed Lukas by the shoulders, roughly pushing the boy forward directly into Daisy’s path.

​"Lukas!" Desmond urged, his voice dropping into a manipulative, coercive edge. "Tell your mother! Tell her what you were telling me earlier about how much you want your Aunt Maureen to get better!"

​Lukas stumbled forward, his small hands clutching tightly to the silk of Daisy's emerald dress. 

He squeezed out a trembling, watery sob, gazing up at her with wide, wet eyes that looked so impossibly innocent—the exact pathetic act he had perfected under Maureen’s tutelage.

​"Mommy..." Lukas whimpered, his voice cracking with rehearsed heartbreak. "Are you mad at me? Is that why you don't want to help Auntie Maureen? Please don't be mad, Mommy. I love you so much. If Auntie Maureen dies, I'll be so sad... Please sign the papers for me, Mommy. I'll be a good boy forever, I promise!"

​He buried his face against her thigh, sniffling loudly, waiting for her to melt.

​Behind the boy, Desmond crossed his arms, a greasy, satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

In their minds, this was the ultimate trap. 

Daisy had always been helpless against the child. She would bend over backward to keep Lukas happy, even if it meant giving away her soul.

​They stood there, waiting for her to drop to her knees, pull the boy into a frantic, tearful hug, and sign the document on the spot.

​Instead, Daisy stood entirely still.

​Looking down at the crown of the boy's head, the image of his ugly, mocking sneer from just moments ago flashed across her mind. 'How much longer do I have to keep calling Auntie "Mom"? I hate her! She's so ugly and boring anyway.'

​A cold, revolting sensation washed over her skin. It felt as if a slimy, venomous snake were coiling around her leg.

Her baby girl had been switched with this little demon… Her precious baby girl.

​Without a single word, Daisy reached down, wrapped her fingers around Lukas's small wrists, and firmly peeled his hands off her dress. 

She didn't slam him down, but the force of her detachment was so absolute, so devoid of affection, that Lukas stumbled backward a step, his fake tears instantly freezing on his cheeks.

​Daisy pulled out a lace handkerchief from her clutch, calmly wiping down the spot on her silk dress where his hands had touched, as if brushing off dirt.

​"Lukas," Daisy said, her tone unnaturally smooth and chillingly distant. "Interrupting adults when they are discussing business is very rude. Didn't your teachers instruct you on basic manners?"

​Lukas stared up at her, utterly dazed. The woman who used to shower him with kisses and get down on her knees every time he shed a single fake tear was looking at him with eyes as dead and unyielding as a winter grave.

​Seeing that even pushing the child forward hadn't moved her an inch, desperation finally clawed at Maureen's chest. Panic seized her—the cold, unreadable composure in Daisy’s eyes was terrifying.

Maureen resorted to her absolute ultimate, tried-and-true trick.

She gasped sharply, dropping the leather folder onto the marble floor. She grabbed at her chest with both hands, her knees buckling as she let out a pathetic, breathy wail.

​"Agh—! Sis... my... my chest!" Maureen whimpered, stumbling sideways and collapsing dramatically against the arm of the sofa. Her face went pale, tears spilling down her cheeks, and her lips trembling as she squeezed out heavy, ragged gulps of air. "It... it hurts so bad... Sis, help me...!"

​Desmond immediately seized the moment, rushing to Maureen’s side with exaggerated panic, looking up at Daisy with a glare of pure righteous indignation.

​"Are you satisfied now, Daisy?!" Desmond yelled, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. "Look at what your selfish stubbornness is doing to your sister! She’s having an episode right in front of you! Do you want her to die on your living room floor?! Sign the damn papers right now and stop this madness!"

The sight of Maureen clutching her chest would have sent Daisy into a blind, hysterical panic. 

She would have dropped to her knees, crying, apologizing, and signing away every cent she owned just to soothe her sister's ‘frail’ body.

But Maureen now knew the truth. Her body had never been frail, and she had never been sick. All of it from the very beginning was a lie. 

She had learned to lie and be deceitful right from when she was born, and she had passed on that hideous talent to her own child. 

Besides, even if she was indeed frail, with everything that had ​happened in her last life, she didn't care anymore. 

Daisy stood at the foot of the stairs, watching the performance with complete, unbothered detachment.

​She didn't rush over. She didn't gasp. She didn't even blink.

​Instead, Daisy calmly reached into her designer clutch, pulled out her phone, and tapped the screen three times.

​"Oh dear, a severe cardiac episode?" Daisy murmured softly, her voice smooth, even, and entirely devoid of panic. She raised the phone to her ear as it began to ring. "Don't worry, Maureen. I'm calling the emergency trauma team right now. I'll have an ICU unit, three cardiac specialists, and a police escort here in under five minutes."

​Maureen’s gasping instantly hiccuped.

​"And since it's an emergency," Daisy continued, looking straight into Maureen’s wide, terrified eyes with a cold, terrifying smile, "I'll instruct the paramedics to perform an immediate emergency tracheotomy and chest compression right here on the floor. We can't risk you losing oxygen while waiting for that fake overseas flight, can we?"

​Maureen’s fake chest-heaving froze mid-breath, her face turning genuinely pale for an entirely different reason.

"No…"