Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son - Chapter 17: Chapter 17
You are reading Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son, Chapter 17: Chapter 17. Read more chapters of Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son.
The tension between us was broken by the soft creak of the door. A nurse, startled by the noise, peeked her head in. "Mrs. Madden, is everything okay?—oh, Mr. Madden!" She froze, eyes widening at the sight of Quinn.
Without a word, Quinn let go of me, his gaze cold as ice. He turned and strode out of the room with barely a glance back.
I watched his retreating figure, a mix of confusion, hurt, and frustration tightening in my chest.
The next morning, after a round of checkups, I was told I could be discharged.
Before I left, I visited my son in the NICU. He was recovering well, and in a couple of days, they'd move him to a regular room for monitoring.
"Mrs. Madden, should I call the driver to pick you up?" a nurse asked politely, having already packed my things.
"No, that won't be necessary," I replied.
I had no intention of going back to Quinn's villa. That place had never felt like home, not for a long time now. Instead, I drove myself back to my family's house.
I hadn't told anyone about my discharge, and the house was eerily quiet when I got back. Lucia was the only one there.
She gave me a feigned look of surprise as I walked through the door. "Ms. Hinton, weren't you in the hospital? What brings you back so suddenly?"
"Where are my adoptive parents?" I asked flatly, not in the mood for her games.
Lucia scoffed lightly, her tone dripping with something close to disdain. "Mr. and Mrs. Hinton took Miss Skylar abroad for an art exhibition."
My stomach dropped. "When did they leave?"
"The night of the 2nd," she replied nonchalantly.
A cold shiver ran down my spine. That date... the afternoon of the 2nd, I'd been fighting for my son's life, my own body torn apart by premature labor.
Meanwhile, Jenna had come to the hospital to scold me, and hours later, she and Elijah had flown off with Skylar to some fancy art exhibit.
Had they ever really cared about me? About my son's wellbeing? Or was I just a pawn in their game, a tool to be discarded when it no longer suited them?
Maybe it was Lucia who'd tipped off the news of my discharge to them. Later that afternoon, Elijah called.
"Natalia, there's no such thing as a grudge between husband and wife that can't be worked out," he said smoothly. "I've already spoken to Alex. Don't worry. As long as he's around, Quinn won't dare divorce you."
I couldn't help but think back to just two months ago when Elijah had told me, in his typical tone, that if I wasn't happy in the Madden family, I could come home anytime. He'd promised to support whatever decision I made.
So what had changed?
Before I could say anything, Jenna grabbed the phone, her voice sharp and impatient. "If you've been discharged, go back to your own house! A married daughter hanging around her parents' place all the time—it's disgraceful!" With that, she slammed the phone down.
Her words hit me like a thousand little pinpricks, sharp and relentless.
I stood there, gripping the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white, whispering under my breath, "I thought this would always be my home..."
Later that evening, Quinn arrived. His Bentley roared up to the house, and Lucia rushed out to greet him, only to be met with a cold, dismissive look that sent her scurrying away.
He stormed into my room like a thunderstorm on a warpath, his face twisted in fury, veins popping from his forehead as if he could barely hold back the storm brewing inside him.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, taken aback by his sudden appearance.
"Isn't this what you wanted?" he snapped, his voice low, simmering with barely contained rage.
I had no clue what he was talking about. Then, it hit me—Elijah must have spoken to Alex, who had likely laid into Quinn about the whole situation.
"Whatever your grandfather said, it wasn't my—" I started to explain, but before I could finish, Quinn grabbed my wrist with a force that sent a jolt through my whole body and shoved me roughly onto the bed.
His gaze was ice-cold as he leaned in. "Isn't this what you've been complaining about?" he spat. "That I've been neglecting you? So, go ahead—tell me what else you want. Let's get it all out now."
Without a word, Quinn let go of me, his gaze cold as ice. He turned and strode out of the room with barely a glance back.
I watched his retreating figure, a mix of confusion, hurt, and frustration tightening in my chest.
The next morning, after a round of checkups, I was told I could be discharged.
Before I left, I visited my son in the NICU. He was recovering well, and in a couple of days, they'd move him to a regular room for monitoring.
"Mrs. Madden, should I call the driver to pick you up?" a nurse asked politely, having already packed my things.
"No, that won't be necessary," I replied.
I had no intention of going back to Quinn's villa. That place had never felt like home, not for a long time now. Instead, I drove myself back to my family's house.
I hadn't told anyone about my discharge, and the house was eerily quiet when I got back. Lucia was the only one there.
She gave me a feigned look of surprise as I walked through the door. "Ms. Hinton, weren't you in the hospital? What brings you back so suddenly?"
"Where are my adoptive parents?" I asked flatly, not in the mood for her games.
Lucia scoffed lightly, her tone dripping with something close to disdain. "Mr. and Mrs. Hinton took Miss Skylar abroad for an art exhibition."
My stomach dropped. "When did they leave?"
"The night of the 2nd," she replied nonchalantly.
A cold shiver ran down my spine. That date... the afternoon of the 2nd, I'd been fighting for my son's life, my own body torn apart by premature labor.
Meanwhile, Jenna had come to the hospital to scold me, and hours later, she and Elijah had flown off with Skylar to some fancy art exhibit.
Had they ever really cared about me? About my son's wellbeing? Or was I just a pawn in their game, a tool to be discarded when it no longer suited them?
Maybe it was Lucia who'd tipped off the news of my discharge to them. Later that afternoon, Elijah called.
"Natalia, there's no such thing as a grudge between husband and wife that can't be worked out," he said smoothly. "I've already spoken to Alex. Don't worry. As long as he's around, Quinn won't dare divorce you."
I couldn't help but think back to just two months ago when Elijah had told me, in his typical tone, that if I wasn't happy in the Madden family, I could come home anytime. He'd promised to support whatever decision I made.
So what had changed?
Before I could say anything, Jenna grabbed the phone, her voice sharp and impatient. "If you've been discharged, go back to your own house! A married daughter hanging around her parents' place all the time—it's disgraceful!" With that, she slammed the phone down.
Her words hit me like a thousand little pinpricks, sharp and relentless.
I stood there, gripping the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white, whispering under my breath, "I thought this would always be my home..."
Later that evening, Quinn arrived. His Bentley roared up to the house, and Lucia rushed out to greet him, only to be met with a cold, dismissive look that sent her scurrying away.
He stormed into my room like a thunderstorm on a warpath, his face twisted in fury, veins popping from his forehead as if he could barely hold back the storm brewing inside him.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, taken aback by his sudden appearance.
"Isn't this what you wanted?" he snapped, his voice low, simmering with barely contained rage.
I had no clue what he was talking about. Then, it hit me—Elijah must have spoken to Alex, who had likely laid into Quinn about the whole situation.
"Whatever your grandfather said, it wasn't my—" I started to explain, but before I could finish, Quinn grabbed my wrist with a force that sent a jolt through my whole body and shoved me roughly onto the bed.
His gaze was ice-cold as he leaned in. "Isn't this what you've been complaining about?" he spat. "That I've been neglecting you? So, go ahead—tell me what else you want. Let's get it all out now."
End of Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son Chapter 17. Continue reading Chapter 18 or return to Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son book page.