Focus on Revenge A Photographer’s Killer Shot novel Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Doris’s tone remained gentle. “I’m truly sorry we kept this from you. I actually suggested Vincent tell you the truth, but he felt the fewer people who knew, the better.”

The fewer people who knew…

So to Vincent, I had been nothing but an outsider.

I stood frozen.

I had believed that, even without love, Vincent and I were still partners-raising Rowan together, sharing years of quiet coexistence. 1 thought we had, at the very least, trust.

But no. From the beginning, I had been nothing more than a placeholder.

Had he told me the truth, I never would’ve let myself fall into this hopeless, one-sided affection…

‘Miss Isolde, we are truly grateful for your dedication over the years,” Doris continued. “You raised Rowan beautifully. As his biological mother, I sincerely thank you.”

I stared at her.

My lips were pale and pressed tightly together, my face expressionless.

But the arm wrapped around Rowan trembled.

I had already lost so much in the past five years.

And now… even Rowan.

‘No!” the boy suddenly shouted, glaring at Doris. “You’re lying! I only have one mommy-and it’s her!”

‘You’re a bad woman! I don’t want you to be my mom!”

Doris froze.

Then, tears welled in her eyes as she covered her mouth, the very image of a wronged, delicate beauty.

Lillian’s expression turned icy. She stood abruptly, her voice sharp and cold.

This is how you raise a child? Teaching him to disrespect his elders?”

My heart was already in turmoil.

I didn’t have the energy to argue with Lillian.

Still, for Rowan’s sake, I said calmly, “He’s just a child. Can’t you at least give him time to process all this?”

“Hmph.” Lillian sneered. “You think I don’t see what you’re up to? Don’t play innocent, Isolde. We’re both women-I see right through you.”

“Old Fu!”

The butler, Mr. Fu, rushed over. “Yes, Madam?”

“Take the young master away! I won’t let a scheming woman like her manipulate the bloodline of the Williams family!”

Mr. Fu hesitated, visibly conflicted-but he still reached for Rowan, gently trying to pry him from my arms.

“No! Let go of me! Mommy, take me home!”

Rowan wailed and clung tighter.

I frowned, unable to bear seeing him like this.

“He has asthma. Can you please not handle him so roughly?”

My voice was low, but carried weight.

Lillian faltered for a moment.

Doris stepped forward, voice trembling with emotion. She clutched Lillian’s arm.

‘Auntie, please… let Mr. Fu release Rowan. It’s okay, really. I failed as a mother-that’s why he doesn’t recognize me. It’s my fault.”

Lillian sighed heavily. Worried about a potential asthma attack, she waved Mr. Fu off.

Freed, Rowan immediately flung himself into my arms.

‘Mommy!”

The force nearly knocked me back. As he crashed into me, I felt a sharp pain in my lower abdomen. My face turned pale.

‘Mommy, Grandma was lying, right? You’re my real mom! I don’t want anyone else-I just want you!”

He sobbed, breath hitching in broken gasps.

gently stroked his head, my heart aching.

He’d always been a fragile child. His asthma meant he couldn’t cry too hard. But right now, he was spiraling.

‘Sweetheart, no one’s leaving you. Mommy’s here, okay? Don’t cry…”

I was only trying to calm him down.

But Lillian wasn’t having it.

‘Isolde, have you no shame? Rowan isn’t even your child! How dare you say something like that?”

Gone was the dignified matriarch-her voice dripped with disdain.

“No wonder he’s never taken to me. I finally understand why he only calls you mommy-you’ve clearly been brainwashing him behind our backs!”

That was it.

Even for Rowan’s sake, I couldn’t stay silent anymore.

I turned, my tone icy.

Mrs. Williams. When Vincent and I got married, I never asked for your approval. If you never accepted me as your daughter-in-law, that’s your right. But if you’re going to lecture about respect, perhaps you should first ask yourself-have you been a good example?”

“Are you calling me disrespectful?” Lillian snapped, eyes narrowing.

“I’m simply saying-between you calling me manipulative and shoving your five-year-old grandson into a meltdown-maybe we

should both reflect.”

My gaze was steady. Unflinching.

“As for the divorce, that’s between Vincent and me. If you wish to keep Rowan, you can. I won’t fight for custody.”

“No! No!”

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