His Regret, My Rise
Letting myself feel the weight of it, the injustice, the cruelty, the fear that I might never hold my son again.
Then something shifted.
The despair didn't disappear. But beneath it, something else rose. Something harder. Something that had been buried for five years under layers of compliance and submission.
Rage.
Clean, cold, righteous rage.
Damian thought he could take my son. Thought he could paint me as unstable, as unfit, as the villain in his story.
He was wrong.
I pulled out my laptop. Opened my Phantom systems. Started gathering evidence.
Bank statements proving my financial stability. Nearly five million dollars he knew nothing about.