The Champion I Raised For Revenge - Chapter 2: Chapter 2
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From that moment on, under her critical eye, I balanced brutal training sessions with the exhausting realities of motherhood. Each day was a war, but I pushed through.
When competition day came, I defied expectations and clinched my sixth gold medal in swimming—solidifying my reign as the undisputed queen of the pool.
The crowd erupted as I stood victorious, but instead of basking in the glory, I dropped a bombshell: I was retiring.
Despite the fans' protests and media frenzy, my mind was made up. I walked away from swimming to focus on my new mission—raising this child.
I named her Natalie Stevens. She became my entire world, the vessel for every hope and dream I had left. I was hellbent on molding her into the next swimming prodigy.
Nothing was too good for her—top-tier schooling, premium nutrition, the most elite training regimen. I held nothing back, drilling every technique, every secret I'd mastered into her.
I gave her everything, convinced my devotion would finally shut my mother-in-law up. But it wasn't enough.
With a dismissive sneer, she snapped, "Stop forcing her into the pool! Look at what swimming did to you—wrecked your body. No wonder you're barren."
Her voice cut like glass. "If you could give my son a child, do you think he'd have needed someone else?" I actually laughed—the absurdity was staggering. Me? The one who couldn't conceive?
The truth? Jacob had begged me to wait. "We're young," he'd said. "Focus on your career first." Like an idiot, I'd agreed. Now his mother twisted it like I was the problem?
"Swimming has nothing to do with this," I fired back. "Stop inventing lies!" She just rolled her eyes. "What would you know? You're still a child yourself. No more swimming!"
Then the final blow: "A woman who can't bear children is worthless. You're a failure."
I nearly choked. Eight gold medals. Global recognition. A legend in my sport. Yet to her, I was nothing—because I hadn't popped out a baby?
Slow, deliberate, I bit out each word: "If you want me to raise Natalie? She swims. Otherwise, take her. Right. Now." I thrust the baby toward her.
Her mouth flapped uselessly. Face purpling with rage, she stomped like a toddler—but not another word escaped her.
When competition day came, I defied expectations and clinched my sixth gold medal in swimming—solidifying my reign as the undisputed queen of the pool.
The crowd erupted as I stood victorious, but instead of basking in the glory, I dropped a bombshell: I was retiring.
Despite the fans' protests and media frenzy, my mind was made up. I walked away from swimming to focus on my new mission—raising this child.
I named her Natalie Stevens. She became my entire world, the vessel for every hope and dream I had left. I was hellbent on molding her into the next swimming prodigy.
Nothing was too good for her—top-tier schooling, premium nutrition, the most elite training regimen. I held nothing back, drilling every technique, every secret I'd mastered into her.
I gave her everything, convinced my devotion would finally shut my mother-in-law up. But it wasn't enough.
With a dismissive sneer, she snapped, "Stop forcing her into the pool! Look at what swimming did to you—wrecked your body. No wonder you're barren."
Her voice cut like glass. "If you could give my son a child, do you think he'd have needed someone else?" I actually laughed—the absurdity was staggering. Me? The one who couldn't conceive?
The truth? Jacob had begged me to wait. "We're young," he'd said. "Focus on your career first." Like an idiot, I'd agreed. Now his mother twisted it like I was the problem?
"Swimming has nothing to do with this," I fired back. "Stop inventing lies!" She just rolled her eyes. "What would you know? You're still a child yourself. No more swimming!"
Then the final blow: "A woman who can't bear children is worthless. You're a failure."
I nearly choked. Eight gold medals. Global recognition. A legend in my sport. Yet to her, I was nothing—because I hadn't popped out a baby?
Slow, deliberate, I bit out each word: "If you want me to raise Natalie? She swims. Otherwise, take her. Right. Now." I thrust the baby toward her.
Her mouth flapped uselessly. Face purpling with rage, she stomped like a toddler—but not another word escaped her.
End of The Champion I Raised For Revenge Chapter 2. Continue reading Chapter 3 or return to The Champion I Raised For Revenge book page.