Chapter 250
Chapter 250
That little brat already knew Sophia's identity—and was willingly calling her Mommy?
And Gerald hadn't stopped it. He'd let it happen. He'd even tacitly agreed to bring Sophia back into the family.
How dare he?
She'd swallowed her pride for four years, and in the end, she couldn't even compete with that woman?
Humiliation blazed through Claire's chest like wildfire.
She stared at the tender father-son scene in the living room, her eyes brimming with poisonous hatred.
Just then, her hand trembled. One of the LEGO boxes knocked against the wooden screen.
"Who's there?"
Gerald's gaze snapped back to its usual razor sharpness.
Claire drew a deep breath, forced a smile more painful than tears, and stepped out from behind the screen with her gifts.
"Gerald, it's me. I came to see Milo. I bought him his favorite LEGO sets."
She tried to walk in casually, tried to pretend she'd heard nothing.
But the moment Milo spotted her, the smile vanished from his face.
He stood up, planted his small body squarely in front of Gerald, and regarded Claire with cold eyes.
"Ms. Douglas, Daddy and I are busy. You should go."
One sentence. It ground every shred of Claire's dignity beneath his feet.
Her smile froze.
She ignored Milo and turned her wounded gaze to Gerald on the sofa. "Gerald, look at him—I just wanted to visit..."
But Gerald simply sat there.
His dark eyes were deep and glacial. Even facing Claire's pitiful expression, his voice held no warmth.
"Claire, listen to Milo. Head home. I'm spending the day with my son."
Even Gerald was sending her away.
Claire stood rooted to the spot, shame and fury reaching their peak.
She clenched her jaw, stamped her foot, and bolted toward the front door.
"Ms. Douglas!"
Milo's voice rang out behind her.
Hope flickered—maybe Gerald had sent the boy to call her back.
She turned. And met Milo's eyes, blazing with warning.
He stood inside the Churchill villa's entrance, chin raised, each word deliberate and cutting: "Stop coming to see my daddy. I already have a mommy. Don't ever come to our house again."
That single sentence severed the last thread of Claire's illusions.
She stared at this child—as ruthlessly cold as his father—and shook from head to toe with rage.
For four years, with Sophia gone, she'd practically been his mother.
She'd been so good to him. New toys every day. Hours playing together. And this was what it amounted to?
The fury built and built, but facing Milo, she couldn't force out a single word.
She bit down hard, turned on her heel, and fled the Churchill villa in utter humiliation.
The moment she cleared the gates, Claire collapsed into the driver's seat of her sports car.
She hurled the carefully chosen LEGO boxes onto the passenger seat and broke down sobbing.
She didn't know how long she cried. Finally, with trembling hands, she pulled out her phone and called Hazel.
The instant the call connected, Claire erupted into the receiver in a hysterical scream:
"Mom! That bitch Sophia is back! That little bastard Milo is calling her Mommy every single day now! Gerald—Gerald's buying her a necklace, he's going to put it on her himself! They're conspiring to get rid of me! Mom! What do I do? I hate them! I hate them all!"
Claire sobbed as if her lungs were tearing apart, every word dripping with venom.
The other end of the line went eerily silent.
Hazel was quiet for a long moment. When her voice finally came, it was slow and measured.
"Claire, calm down. So she's back—so what? We drove her out four years ago. Four years later, she's no more of a threat."
"It seems our original plans aren't enough. Claire, stop crying. Dry your tears. It's time we implemented that plan. This time, I'll make sure Sophia is destroyed beyond any hope of recovery."
Claire hung up and stared at the blue sky through the windshield. The tears in her eyes slowly receded.
Sophia, if you insist on coming back to steal what's mine, don't blame me for burying you where no one will ever find you.
---
Outside the Churchill villa gates, Milo pulled his gaze back from Claire's retreating figure. The instant he turned and met Gerald's eyes, every trace of coldness melted from his face.
He scrambled over on his short legs and grabbed fistfuls of Gerald's trouser fabric.
"Daddy! Let's go! Right now—let's go find Mommy!"
His voice trembled.
He was afraid. Afraid that bad woman would come back and destroy the happiness they'd only just found.
He needed to see Mommy. Right now.
Gerald looked at Milo's panicked face and felt his chest tighten.
He bent down, swept his son into his arms, and said firmly, "Okay. Daddy's taking you to Mommy."
The Rolls-Royce cut through Shadow City's traffic.
Thirty minutes later, the car pulled up smoothly outside Sophia's apartment building.
Before it fully stopped, Milo had already unbuckled his seatbelt.
Gerald carried him upstairs. Standing before the locked security door, Milo's small fists hammered against it. "Mommy! Mommy, open the door!"
Footsteps inside. The door swung open.
Sophia stood there in loungewear. The moment she saw Milo, her guarded expression shattered into raw, overwhelming joy.
"Milo!"
She didn't even glance at the man beside him. Pure instinct brought her to her knees, and she pulled the boy crashing into her arms.
His warmth made her eyes sting.
She buried her face in his soft hair, her voice shaking. "Baby, what are you doing here? Did you miss Mommy?"
"Yes! Milo missed Mommy so, so much!"
He burrowed frantically into the curve of her neck.
Feeling his solid warmth against her, Sophia inhaled deeply, steadying the surge of emotion.
But when she rose to her feet with Milo in her arms and her gaze shifted sideways to Gerald, every trace of tenderness vanished.
"Mr. Churchill."
Sophia stepped back, Milo still in her arms, widening the distance between them.
"The child's been delivered. You can leave now."
Her disgust was unconcealed.
Gerald's expression went black.
The air between them locked into suffocating stillness.