Chapter 3

Jasmine, furious, yanked her hand away and stood up, ruthlessly kicking Aster in the stomach.

The poor boy arched his back in pain, retching violently. In the past few days, he hadn't even eaten more than scraps while taking care of me, so in that moment, nothing came out but blood mixed with stomach acid.

Suddenly, footsteps came from outside the door.

Jasmine's expression changed and immediately put on Aster's clothes properly. The moment she finished zipping up his jacket, Shawn walked in the door.

"I left my watch… Aster?"

His eyes locked onto his son, whose forehead was bruised and swollen. His expression shifted to shock.

“What’s going on? Jasmine, did you hit him?”

Jasmine furrowed her brows and massaged her temples, swaying as if she was about to faint.

Shawn immediately stepped forward, holding her in his arms.

"I don't know what I did wrong, Shawn…" Jasmine murmured, deliberately lifting her wrist to reveal the bite wound.

As she cried, she recounted the false tale of how Aster had hit the door and made a ruckus outside, and how she let him in out of the goodness of her heart, only for him to hit himself on the wall repeatedly, saying that she abused him.

Seeing the bloody marks on her wrist made any lingering suspicions Shawn had about the situation vanish.

However, I knew that Aster had already lost most of his strength by that time, so he didn't even manage to bite her all that hard. Those marks were left behind by the blood in his mouth!

The bodyguards stood beside him, subtly supporting him so that he wouldn't crumple to the ground.

"You've become a sly one, Aster! To think that you've learned to cause trouble while I wasn't around… How in the world did Astrea raise the heir of our family to become a hooligan? I'll make sure she never sees you once we get a divorce!"

My son didn't cry while he was being beaten up, but this was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Daddy… Don't you love Mommy anymore? Don't you want me anymore…?"

His weak, trembling voice, his battered face, and his swollen, tear-filled eyes made Shawn’s foot hesitate mid-step.

Jasmine’s eyes flickered, and she stumbled out of Shawn’s arms.

"Silly boy, your father's a grown-up! He wouldn't be as childish as you, throwing that toy car on the floor! You even said you didn't want it anymore!"

That was when Shawn noticed the shattered toy car on the floor. His expression stiffened.

Jasmine discreetly signaled to one of the bodyguards, and he tapped his phone, playing an audio recording.

"Bad lady! You're a bad lady! Gimme my little sister back! I'm telling Daddy so the police can catch you!"

At that point, Shawn's expression became stormy, and he was so angry that his fingers trembled. "To think I was worried about you… You must have learned to act pitiful from your mother!"

I shook my head, screaming desperately—no, no!

Aster was the most well-mannered child there was! Why wouldn't he believe his own son?

Shawn ordered the bodyguards to throw Aster out of the room.

Aster collapsed onto the floor, motionless.

Even after Shawn retrieved his watch and finished comforting Jasmine, he found Aster still lying face down outside the door.

"Still keeping up the act, huh? So young, yet so manipulative."

At that, he took a picture and sent it to my phone.

"Come and get your son! Do you want to embarrass yourselves even more?"

What Shawn didn’t know was that I was already kneeling beside Aster, crying as if I had died all over again.

At that moment, I hated myself more than I hated Shawn and Jasmine.

Why did I have to stand by and watch my son suffer such cruel abuse?

Why did I have to die so soon?

If Jasmine truly became Aster’s stepmother one day, would we have to endure this living nightmare forever?

Seeing that I didn't message him back, Shawn scoffed and walked away, and that's when Aster slowly came to.

His sweat and blood had dried, sealing his eyelids shut.

Too weak to stand, he groped blindly toward the familiar staircase, crawling forward with great effort.

"Mommy… I want to go back to Mommy…"

Doctors and nurses passing by whispered among themselves—some in pity, others in ridicule.

I followed behind Aster, my soul pierced by a thousand needles.

Step by step, each feeling like a lifetime.

By the time he finally made it back to me, my blood had long since frozen in the cold night air, but Aster didn't understand. He smiled brightly. "Mommy's not bleeding anymore!"

Without his desperation keeping him awake, he passed out by my lifeless body.

The next morning, a janitor was the first to notice something was wrong.

She screamed in terror, stumbling up the stairs. "T-They're dead!"

Shawn, jolted awake by the commotion, stormed out in frustration, shoving aside the medical staff.

"What now, Astrea? Did you get the janitor in on the act too, after what you told Aster to do yesterday?"

The moment he saw my face, paler than the walls around me, every last trace of color drained from his own.