Chapter 4-Total destruction

Grace rushed out of the room in a panic and shouted at the top of her lungs, "Earthquake? Was that an earthquake?"

Nancy ran out as well, clutching the crying baby. She had heard the crash, panicked, and bolted for the door barefoot, her handbag still in her hand. She had not even stopped to put on shoes.

The two women hurried into the living room and stopped short.

Lucille, always calm and rational, had lost control. She smashed her favorite ornaments one after another, sending them crashing to the floor.

Grace rushed forward to stop her. "Ma'am, please stop breaking things. Whatever it is, talk it out. Please."

Nancy rocked the wailing baby and cried out in a shaky voice, "Ma'am, please stop. You're scaring the baby."

The child's desperate cries seemed to drain all the strength from Lucille's body. Her grip loosened on the blue-and-white porcelain vase. At last, she set it down and stepped forward to gather the baby tightly into her arms.

The baby's face was red from crying, both small fists clenched tight.

Nancy leaned in, flustered. "She must be hungry. I made formula, but she wouldn't take it. Ma'am...I think she needs you."

Lucille barely hesitated. She reached instinctively to lift her shirt.

Then she realized something. She looked up and met Gideon's unreadable gaze.

For years, he had only seen her in her sharp, polished work mode, efficient, immaculate, always in control. He had never seen her disheveled like this, lifting her clothes in public to nurse.

Even she felt a surge of humiliation. However, the baby would not stop crying.

Lucille pushed the feeling aside. She turned her back to him, lifted her shirt, and drew the baby gently to her breast.

The room fell quiet at once. Only the sound of the baby swallowing remained.

Gideon stood where he was and looked at Lucille's back as she fed their daughter. His expression was complex, his gaze dark and unreadable.

Grace began to clean up the broken pieces in silence.

Nancy stepped closer and spoke softly as she watched Lucille nurse. "You've really had it hard, Ma'am. For the baby to get breast milk, you endured that engorgement pain and kept trying for half a month before your milk finally came in.

"Ever since she started nursing, she's been getting stronger every day. Just look at her face now. So round and healthy."

Lucille said nothing. A chill settled deep inside her.

Still, her ears strained in spite of herself. She felt disappointed to the core, yet some stubborn part of her continued to wait, to hope she would hear something from behind her.

After a long moment, she heard light, measured footsteps draw closer.

Gideon stepped in front of her. He looked at her first, then lowered his gaze to the baby in her arms, still nursing greedily.

A moment later, the baby stopped. Lucille quickly pulled her clothes back into place.

Gideon crouched down. Almost without thinking, and with unexpected care, he took the baby from Lucille's arms. "Baby, I'm your daddy. We finally get to meet."

He lowered his head and studied the infant in his arms for a long moment.

For once, softness touched his usually cold face.

"Sir, everyone says the baby looks just like you," Nancy said with a teasing smile. "It's like she was made from the same mold."

"Really?" Gideon looked up, a smile in his eyes, and held the baby a little closer.

Lucille stared at the two matching faces, one large and one small, and felt her nose sting.

There was warmth in the way Gideon looked at the child.

The tight knot in her chest loosened slightly. Even her anger softened.

Then a shrill ringtone cut through the room.

Gideon pulled out his phone.

The name on the screen, Rayne, pierced Lucille's eyes.

He stepped aside and answered. A woman's panicked voice came through at once. "Giddy, Connor threw up his milk. A lot of it. I'm freaking out. What do I do?"

Gideon's face tightened. "Don't panic. I'm coming right now."

He did not hesitate. He grabbed his coat from the sofa and headed for the door. Then, as if he remembered something, he paused. "Lucy, Rayne just became a mother. She doesn't know anything. I'll go check on her and come right back."

Lucille could not speak. Her heart turned cold again. She watched his broad back disappear through the door and felt nothing but bitter irony.

He had been home for less than half an hour. One call from Rayne, and he left at once.

Did he care for Rayne that much because he was helping a friend, or because he wanted to?

Nancy held the baby and looked completely baffled. "Ma'am, did Mr. Prescott just leave like that? Who did he say just became a mother? You're the one who just became a mother…"

Even the nanny could see how thoroughly Gideon ignored her.

Grace shot Nancy a sharp look, signaling her to stop.

Lucille drew a slow breath. Her eyes turned cold again. "Nancy, pack the baby's things. I'll go upstairs and pack mine. We're not staying in this house."

Nancy's mouth fell open.

Grace went pale and hurried forward to stop her. "Ma'am, please don't do anything rash. Mr. Prescott is usually very good to you. He… is just too busy. He may not have spent much time with you during the pregnancy, but he had flowers delivered every week. Look, the sunflowers are still on the table. They're so fresh."

Sunflowers were Lucille's favorite. They always faced upward, grew with all their strength, and didn't depend on anyone.

Yet throughout her pregnancy, while Gideon did all those things for Rayne, all he had sent Lucille were a few sunflowers and a quiet reminder to stay strong on her own.

Disgust surged in her chest.

She shoved Grace aside and said coldly, "Throw them out. Looking at them makes me sick."

Lucille stormed upstairs.

Grace stood frozen for a moment, alarmed, but she still obeyed and threw the freshly delivered sunflowers into the trash.

…

Upstairs, Lucille packed her luggage in no time. She was about to head back down when her phone buzzed.

It was her best friend, Gwen Taylor.

Lucille steadied herself before answering. "Gwen."

"Lucy, I heard your husband threw your daughter a one-month party at noon and invited a ton of people. Why didn't you call me? Are we fake friends now?"

"It wasn't for my daughter," Lucille said. "It was for someone else's son."

Gwen exploded. "What the hell? Your husband has someone on the side? He even has a son?"

From pregnancy to birth, Lucille had carried everything alone. Gwen knew that better than anyone.

She had been unhappy with Gideon for a long time. She just had not expected this.

Lucille tugged at the corner of her mouth in a bleak smile. "He says it's his cousin's son. Her husband is Otto Westbrook. Remember him? The top student from our school back then. He's overseas now on some classified project and can't come back, so Gideon thinks looking after his son is his duty."

Gwen grew even angrier. "Even if that's true, he still can't ignore his own daughter and throw himself into taking care of someone else's son. Fine, he ignored you during the pregnancy. But now your daughter is already a month old, and he's still doing this? Lucy, what exactly are you holding on to him for?"

A cold light settled in Lucille's eyes. She forced down the surge of emotion. "Come get me. We'll talk then. I'm still weak. I can't drive. Come pick up the baby and me. I don't want to stay here anymore."

At that point, all she felt toward the marital home was disgust.

The walls were covered with photos of her and Gideon from the past five years. Even those made her sick.

She tore every one of them down and cut them to pieces with scissors. Then she found a hammer and smashed the glass display wall. One by one, she slashed apart the handbags Gideon had given her, the ones that had never suited her taste.

She boxed everything up, every last piece of "trash," dragged it into the yard, poured gasoline over it, and lit a match.

She did not want to take a single thing from this place.

At present, she only wanted destruction. She wanted all of it gone.

Flames roared up, sending thick black smoke into the air.

The smell of burning spread everywhere. Neighbors opened their windows, thinking there was a fire.

Grace and Nancy exchanged looks. The cold fury Lucille was radiating kept them from getting any closer.

Grace slipped into the bathroom and called Gideon three times. He did not answer once.

…

By the time Gwen arrived, Lucille stood in the middle of the yard in nothing but a thin nightgown, firelight casting her pale face in sharp gold and black.

Gwen's nose stung. She yanked off her down jacket and draped it over Lucille's shoulders.

"Have you lost your mind? You're barely back on your feet, and you're standing here in the cold without even a coat? Your man doesn't care, and your staff are useless too?"

She cursed under her breath as she pulled Lucille into her arms and took the suitcase from her hand.

Wrapped in Gwen's warmth, Lucille finally let go. Her awareness slipped. Her body went limp, and she collapsed.

"Lucy. Lucy…"

Somewhere in the haze, she heard someone calling her name. Her eyelids felt too heavy. She could not open them.