The day I was acknowledged by the wealthy family, I had a three-year-old child by my side. Sophia, the adopted daughter, covered her mouth and laughed, “Sister, life must have been tough for you these years, huh? You even had a bastard child. How dare you come back to the Sullivan family?” My ex-fiancé, Mark Foster, immediately darkened his face and turned to Mr. Foster Sr., saying, “I absolutely refuse to marry a woman with such a questionable background.” I lowered my head, gently stroking my child’s soft hair, and nodded obediently, “Alright.” After all, this child belonged to his uncle. In the tea room of the Foster family mansion, Mr. Foster Sr. sat in the main seat with a grim expression. Mark’s mother, Linda Foster, who had slept her way to her current position, was crying in a shrill voice, “Mr. Foster, Mark is your only grandson. How can he marry a woman with a bastard child? What will people say?” She glanced at me sideways, her words full of insinuation, “Some people will do anything to climb the social ladder.” My mother laughed coldly, “Mrs. Foster, didn’t you also rely on an ‘accidental’ pregnancy to enter this family? How ironic that you’re now calling others impure.” Linda’s face instantly turned ashen. Mark suddenly slammed the table, throwing a disgusted look at me, “I’ll release a statement tomorrow to break off the engagement.” I lowered my eyes to hide my smile. That suits me just fine. Mr. Foster Sr. frowned deeply, his gaze moving back and forth between me and my child. But my little one wasn’t shy. He looked up with his small face and chirped sweetly, “Hello, Grandpa!” Mr. Foster Sr. was taken aback, his stern expression cracking slightly, “This child… seems quite clever.” Seeing this, Linda immediately shrieked, “Mr. Foster, don’t be fooled! Who knows where this bastard child came from…” Before Linda could finish, my mother had already slammed her teacup onto the saucer with a loud “clang”. “Mrs. Foster, mind your words. You have no right to comment on my family’s bloodline.” Linda’s face alternated between red and white, “What do you mean? Are you saying this child is…” “Enough!” Mr. Foster Sr. suddenly roared, his dragon-headed cane striking the marble floor with a startling sound. The tea room instantly fell silent, with only my child shrinking into my arms uneasily. I gently patted his back, feeling his tiny body trembling slightly. “All of you, shut up!” Mr. Foster Sr. sighed, “This matter ends here! Everyone get out!” My mother laughed coldly, standing up gracefully, “Perfect, we Sullivans don’t want to stay any longer either.” She gave me a look, “Olivia, let’s go.” The little one seemed to sense my mood and touched my face with his soft little hand, “Mommy, don’t be angry. Little Bean will protect you.” I didn’t look back, just held my child tighter. My mother’s hand holding mine trembled slightly, her eyes almost overflowing with guilt. She had originally intended to use this arranged marriage to let me return to the Sullivan family properly, to reclaim everything that belonged to the true daughter. After all, the engagement with the Foster family was originally meant for me. But she hadn’t expected that this carefully arranged meeting would turn into a scene where my dignity was trampled. Linda’s acerbic mockery and Mark’s disgusted looks all stabbed at her heart like knives. Her voice choked, “Olivia, it’s Mom’s fault…” I shook my head, gripping her hand back. This humiliation was never our fault.
By the time we returned to the Sullivan mansion, it was already dark. The hall was brightly lit, with my father sitting on the sofa reviewing documents. Sophia was leaning against him, smiling coyly. Seeing us enter, a flash of mockery crossed her eyes as she deliberately raised her voice, “Dad, sister has come back with her child.” My father looked up, his gaze falling on the child in my arms, his brow instantly furrowing, “You have the nerve to come back?” Before I could speak, Sophia was already covering her mouth and laughing lightly, “Sister, you’ve certainly had an exciting life out there. Having a child out of wedlock, bringing back a little bastard, how scandalous if word gets out.” “Sophia!” my mother rebuked sharply, “Watch your mouth!” But my father raised his hand to stop my mother, his eyes coldly fixed on me, “Whose child is this exactly?” I took a deep breath, my nails almost digging into my palms. Those memories I had deliberately buried came flooding back. Three years ago, on that rainy night, I found Ethan Foster covered in blood. I sent him to the hospital and cared for him day and night. Ethan had lost all his memories due to the car accident. I took care of him, accompanied him through rehabilitation. He always liked to hold my hand in the warm afternoon sun, saying softly, “Olivia, when I’m better, let’s get married.” His palm was warm and dry, his gaze so focused as if I was the only person left in the world. Later, as he gradually recovered, we lived in a small house by the sea. He would brew coffee in the early morning and gently kiss my forehead. He would also hold me in his arms during thunderstorms, saying “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.” At that time, he was so gentle, unlike the cold young master of the Foster family, but just an ordinary man who loved me deeply. But later… His memory returned. One morning, when I woke up, the bed beside me was already empty. A check was left on the table, the amount so large it hurt my eyes. He also left a note, saying he would come back for me. I hated him for leaving without a word, so I burned the note and left that place. After leaving, I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t want to abandon this little life, so I chose to give birth. Three years later, the Sullivan family found me. “Can’t say it?” My father sneered, “You’ve completely disgraced the Sullivan family!” “Disgrace?” My mother suddenly stood up, her voice shaking, “When you brought Sophia home back then, didn’t you feel disgraced? Now you dare to blame Olivia?” My father’s face turned ashen, “How can that be the same? Sophia is my biological daughter!” “And what about Olivia?” My mother’s eyes were red, “Isn’t she your flesh and blood? Your favoritism should have a limit!” Sophia pretended to mediate from the side, “Auntie, don’t be angry. Dad is just worried about sister’s reputation…” “No need for your fake kindness!” My mother pushed her away. Sophia staggered a few steps, deliberately falling to the ground, tears instantly welling up, “Dad, I was just trying to calm Auntie down, but she pushed me…” My father flew into a rage, raising his hand to strike my mother. I rushed forward to shield her, but suddenly heard my child burst into tears. “Mommy… I’m scared…” he tightly hugged my leg, his little face covered in tears. At that moment, my heart felt like it was torn in two. I crouched down and hugged him, my voice trembling, “Little Bean, don’t be afraid. Mommy’s here.” My father’s hand froze in mid-air, finally dropping heavily. He rubbed his brow wearily, “Go back to your room, don’t stand here annoying me!” My mother still wanted to argue, but I held her back and shook my head. As I carried my child upstairs, Sophia’s triumphant gaze stabbed into my back like knives. Closing the door, my child nestled against my shoulder, sobbing softly, “Mommy, why doesn’t Grandpa like us?” I bit my lip hard, tears finally falling. Why? I wanted to know why too. Why did Ethan leave without a word? Why did my father only have eyes for Sophia? Why did my child have to bear all this malice? Outside the window, thunder rumbled, and raindrops slammed against the glass. I held my child tightly, as if I could shield him from all the storms of the world this way.
Early the next morning, there was a commotion downstairs. Followed by Sophia’s exaggerated giggles. “Mark, why did you suddenly come?” Sophia’s voice was sickeningly sweet, “Did you miss me?” Mark’s voice carried impatience, “Where’s your sister?” My heart suddenly sank. What was he doing here? The door was suddenly pushed open. Mark stood at the doorway with a gloomy face, Sophia hanging on his arm with a malicious smile. “Sister, Mark has something to say to you.” Mark coldly swept a glance at the child in my arms, frowning in disgust, “Olivia Sullivan, I’m warning you, don’t think you can cling to the Foster family just because you have a bastard child.” My fingers unconsciously tightened, and my child whimpered softly in his sleep. “I’m not…” My voice was barely audible. “Not?” Mark sneered, “Then why did you choose this time to return to the Sullivan family? What, can’t afford to raise the child anymore? Want me to pay for the bastard’s milk powder?” Sophia added fuel to the fire from the side, “Sister, life must have been tough for you these years? Raising a fatherless child…” “Enough!” I suddenly looked up, “Who gave you permission to call my child a bastard?” Mark seemed to be angered by my reaction. He strode over and grabbed my wrist, “Olivia Sullivan, stop playing the victim! If it weren’t for the relationship between our families, I wouldn’t have agreed to marry you in the first place!” His grip was shockingly strong, causing a sharp pain in my wrist. My child was startled awake. Seeing the scene before him, he immediately burst into tears. “Mommy! Don’t bully Mommy!” He reached out his little hands, trying to push Mark away. Mark shoved the child away. His small body hit the wall with a dull thud. “Little Bean!” I broke free from Mark’s grip and rushed to hug my child. A red mark had appeared on his forehead, and he was crying uncontrollably. “Mark Foster! He’s just a child!” I shouted hoarsely, tears blurring my vision. Sophia laughed gleefully from the side, “Oh my, Mark, this child is quite protective, just as shameless as his mother.” Mark looked down at us coldly, his gaze icy, “Olivia Sullivan, I’ll make a public statement tomorrow to break off the engagement. If you dare to cause any trouble…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but the threat was clear. I held my child tightly, feeling my heart shatter into pieces. Why? Why treat us like this? What wrong had my child done? He’s just an innocent child… Mark turned to leave, Sophia shot me a triumphant look and followed, clinging to his arm. “By the way,” Mark stopped at the door, not looking back, “Uncle asked me to tell you, stop dreaming. The Foster family will never acknowledge this bastard.” Those words were like a knife, stabbing deep into my heart. Ethan… This child is his own flesh and blood. The door slammed shut. I could no longer hold myself up, sliding to the floor with my child in my arms. My child’s little hands frantically wiped away my tears, “Mommy, don’t cry. Little Bean will blow the pain away…” I held him tightly in my arms, my tears soaking his collar. The man who had promised me a home three years ago now wouldn’t even acknowledge his own child. All those gentle whispers, those passionate promises, turned out to be nothing but a joke. “Mommy, why doesn’t Daddy want us?” my child suddenly asked softly, his voice filled with confusion and hurt. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, the pain almost unbearable. How could I answer? Outside the window, the rain grew heavier, thunder rumbling. I hugged my child tightly. In the Sullivan house, apart from my mother who truly cared for me, it was just me and my child depending on each other. “Little Bean, don’t be afraid,” I said softly, my voice trembling terribly, “Mommy will never leave you.”
The day the invitation to the Foster family banquet arrived at the Sullivan house, my mother slammed it on the coffee table in front of my father. “Olivia must go,” she said, her nails almost digging into the leather sofa. “My daughter is not some dirty secret to be hidden away.” My father frowned, looking at the child in my arms. Sophia immediately chimed in with her sweet voice, “Auntie, won’t it be more embarrassing if sister brings the child?” “Shut up!” my mother snapped, then turned to my father, her eyes red, “Sullivan, search your conscience. What exactly has Olivia done wrong? Is it her fault she was abandoned? Is it her fault she’s raising a child alone?” My father remained silent for a long time, finally turning his face away, “Do as you please.” I bit my lip hard until I tasted blood. My child seemed to sense my emotions, his little hand clutching tightly at the hem of my clothes, his big eyes full of unease. On the night of the banquet, my mother chose a dark green velvet gown for me. As she styled my hair, her fingers trembled slightly, “Olivia, hold your head high tonight. You’ve done nothing wrong.” I looked at myself in the mirror, forcing a smile onto my pale face. My child, dressed in a little suit, lay on my lap looking up at me, “Mommy, are we going to see Daddy?” My heart suddenly clenched. “Little Bean,” I knelt down to adjust his bow tie, my voice barely audible, “If… if Daddy doesn’t recognize us, don’t be sad, okay?” He nodded innocently, but in his clear eyes, I saw my own reflection full of nervousness and anxiety. The Foster family mansion was brightly lit. As soon as we stepped into the banquet hall, I heard a familiar deep voice coming from the direction of the balcony. “She’s nothing but a gold digger,” Ethan’s voice was full of contempt. “Bringing a child of unknown origin, thinking she can latch onto the Foster family. How laughable.” I froze in place, my blood instantly turning to ice. My mother angrily wanted to rush over, but I held her wrist tightly, shaking my head. “I heard the child looks like someone from the Foster family?” someone asked curiously. Ethan let out a cold laugh, “I’ve seen this trick many times. Mark was right to break off the engagement. Who knows how many men she’s been with…” His words suddenly stopped. Because I had walked out from behind a Roman column, holding my child’s hand. Under the crystal chandelier, Ethan’s wine glass shattered on the marble floor. He stared at me intently, his pupils contracting violently, cracks appearing for the first time on that usually composed face.
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