Chapter 150: Mother's War
Chapter 150: Mother's War
ANNA SERRANO
"We will know soon enough!" Elena screamed after me, her voice shrill with frustration and what might have been desperation. "The truth always comes out! We'll get a DNA test! We'll prove it!"
I didn't respond, didn't acknowledge her words at all. I simply opened my car door, slid into the driver's seat with as much grace as I could muster, and started the engine.
Only once I'd pulled out of the driveway and Elena had disappeared from my rearview mirror did I allow the facade to crack.
My hands were shaking violently on the steering wheel, trembling so badly I had trouble keeping the car steady. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might actually burst from my chest. My breath came in short, sharp gasps that I couldn't seem to control.
I was terrified. Absolutely, completely terrified in a way I hadn't been since those dark days six years ago when my entire life had collapsed.
I pulled over to the side of the road a few blocks away, unable to drive safely with my hands shaking this badly, and tried to calm myself down.
My fingers shook as I gripped the steering wheel. My entire body trembled with the adrenaline crash, with the fear I'd been suppressing during the confrontation with Elena.
I ruffled my hair with one hand, pulling at it almost violently, the physical sensation helping to ground me slightly, to pull me back from the edge of complete panic.
Calm down, I commanded myself. Breathe. Think. Figure this out.
What did Elena mean by "we'll know soon enough"? What were they planning? How did she even get suspicious in the first place?
Then I remembered—Hermione had told me that Abel had come to her school to see her. I'd been so focused on being angry at Hermione for the deception, so consumed with enforcing boundaries, that I hadn't fully processed the implications of Abel seeking her out.
Did his visit have something to do with this? Had he noticed the resemblance too? Were he and Elena comparing notes, building a case, planning some kind of action?
The thought made my blood run cold.
I fumbled for my phone with shaking hands, scrolling through my contacts until I found the number I needed—Hermione's driver and bodyguard, the man I'd hired specifically to keep my daughter safe.
I hit dial and pressed the phone to my ear, my other hand still gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles had gone white.
He picked up on the second ring.
"Mrs. Serrano!" he said, his voice professional and alert.
"Listen to me very carefully," I said, my voice coming out harder and colder than I'd intended, shaky with barely controlled panic. "Make sure you don't leave Hermione out of your sight at all. Not for a single second. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, ma'am, I—"
"You know Abel Donovan?" I interrupted. "And the rest of the Donovan family? Don't let any of them get close to my child. Not Abel, not his mother, not anyone with that last name. After school, you bring her directly home. No detours, no stops, straight home."
My voice was rising now, becoming louder and shakier with each word.
"Stay on the lookout constantly," I continued. "Be vigilant. Check everyone who approaches her. I will end you if you slip up or if my child gets into any danger. Do you understand? I will personally destroy your life if anything happens to her."
"Yes, ma'am," he said quickly, alarm evident in his voice now. "I understand. She will not get out of my sight. I promise."
"Do your fucking job right!" I screamed at him, all my fear and frustration pouring out in that moment. "Abel Donovan came to see her days ago and you never reported that to me! You failed in your basic duties!"
"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said, genuine contrition in his voice. "I didn't know—I thought it was an approved visit. I will do better. I swear it won't happen again."
"You better," I said, my voice dropping to something quieter but no less threatening. "Because if it does, you're fired and I'll make sure you never work security again."
I ended the call without waiting for his response, my hands still trembling, my heart still racing.
I sat there for a moment, trying to gather myself enough to drive, and realized I couldn't go back to the office. Couldn't go home. Couldn't go anywhere except to my daughter.
I needed to see her. Needed to make sure she was safe. Needed to be physically present to protect her from whatever the Donovans might be planning.
I changed my route abruptly, making an illegal U-turn that earned me an angry horn from another driver, and headed toward Hermione's school.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled into the school's parking lot and sat in my car, staring at the building, my breath still coming hard and fast.
I had a really bad feeling about all of this. A terrible, sinking sensation in my gut that told me things were about to get much worse before they got better.
Damn it!
I hit the steering wheel with my palm, the sharp sound and stinging pain somehow helping to focus my scattered thoughts.
One of the Donovans had managed to piss me off eventually. Despite all my efforts to stay above their drama, to ignore them, to build my life separate from theirs—they'd dragged me back into conflict.
If Elena or Abel truly knew about Hermione's real paternity, if they had any kind of proof or were planning to get it, they would definitely try to take my child from me. I knew how the Donovans operated, knew how much they valued family and bloodline and carrying on the Donovan name.
They would see Hermione as theirs. As their granddaughter, their niece, their blood. They would feel entitled to her, would believe they had rights to her that superseded my own.
No. The word echoed in my mind with fierce certainty. No one will take my child from me. No one.
But even as I thought it, I knew this would cause problems. Massive problems. Legal battles, custody disputes, media attention, scandal—all the things I'd been trying so desperately to avoid would come crashing down on us.
Headaches I really, really wanted to avoid. Complications I'd spent six years preventing.
I won't allow anyone to take my child away from me, I thought again, the conviction settling over me like armor. Hermione is my daughter. Mine. No one else's.
Damn them. Damn all the Donovans for disrupting the life I'd built, for threatening my daughter's security, for not being able to just leave us alone.
I took several deep breaths, forcing myself to calm down enough to think strategically rather than just react emotionally.
I really needed to go see Hermione's teachers immediately. Today. Right now. I needed to have conversations with the principal, with her homeroom teacher, with everyone who had any contact with my daughter during school hours.
I needed to make it crystal clear that no one was allowed to see Hermione except people I had explicitly approved. That no Donovan was allowed near my daughter under any circumstances. That if any of them were sighted anywhere near the school, the staff should call me immediately and involve security if necessary.
If Abel continued to push, if he tried to force contact with Hermione, I would get a restraining order. I would make it legal and official and public if that's what it took to protect my daughter.
Let the Donovans try to explain to their business associates and social circle why Anna Serrano had filed a restraining order against Abel Donovan. Let them deal with that scandal.
I grabbed my phone and my purse, got out of the car, and walked toward the school entrance with determination replacing the panic that had consumed me moments before.
Hermione is my daughter, I repeated to myself like a mantra. My daughter. And I will protect her from anyone and everyone who tries to take her from me.
Even if that means going to war with the entire Donovan family.
Even if that means exposing every secret I've been keeping.
Even if that means destroying whatever fragile peace we'd achieved.
My daughter comes first. Always.
And God help anyone who tries to get in my way.