He Killed Our Son for the Affair I Never Had

Freya’s POV

Harper wept, tears streaming down her cheeks like petals in the rain. “If you have a problem, take it out on me. Why go after Kayden? He’s just a kid! I’ll apologize to you—just please, let him go, all right?”

As she spoke, she started to beg for my forgiveness.

Rodney stepped forward and pulled the pitiful Harper into his arms, his gaze hardening as he turned to glare at me.

“How dare you lay a hand on my child!”

“Rodney,” I said flatly, “If you don’t give me my daughter back, I’ll kill him.”

I met his eyes without flinching, openly taking on a crime I hadn’t committed. The boy wasn’t even in my hands, but that didn’t matter now.

His expression darkened with hatred, yet he still refused to say whether my daughter was alive.

Watching him, my heart plummeted to the very bottom.

Could it be true? Was my daughter truly… dead?

The thought tore through me, and I could no longer hold myself back. I lunged forward and wrapped my hands around Harper’s throat.

“Rodney, give my daughter back to me! If she’s dead, Harper will go to the grave with her!”

Harper clearly hadn’t expected me to act so recklessly. Her smug expression collapsed into sheer panic.

Rodney’s eyes flickered toward her, his hands lifting as if to calm me down.

But in the next second, the hospital room flooded with bodyguards. They wrenched Harper from my grip, and I was instantly surrounded.

Slaps rained down on my face—hard, stinging blows—while Rodney stayed at Harper’s side, soothing her like a frightened child. His gaze, however, when it turned back to me, was pure ice.

“Throw her into the cold storage,” he ordered. “When she’s ready to tell us where Kayden is, let her out. If not, keep her there until I find him myself!”

The next second, they stripped away my clothes and shoved me into a freezing storage room. The air bit at my skin like knives; it was thirty degrees below zero. Standing at the doorway, Rodney met my eyes.

“Rodney,” I rasped, my voice raw from the cold, “I truly regret ever marrying you!”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second… But in the end, he turned without a word and walked away.

When the door finally opened again, three hours had passed. I uncurled my stiff, frozen body and slowly stepped out.

Rodney stood there holding Harper protectively, his gaze wary.

Behind them, Harper’s son looked perfectly healthy—looking warm and utterly unshaken.

I didn’t spare them another glance. Instead, I walked past and retrieved my phone from the room.

I typed a message to Macsen.

[Macsen, is my daughter still alive?]

I gripped the phone so tightly my knuckles ached. If Farrah was truly gone, I would set this entire place ablaze and drag every last one of them into the flames with me!

A reply came almost immediately.

[My men saved her. She’s fine. Get your documents ready. Tomorrow, I’ll come with your daughter to pick you up.]

My vision blurred as tears finally spilled over.

Thank God. Thank God my daughter was still alive!

Just then, Rodney stepped forward.

His expression was complicated as he studied me. “Who are you talking to?”

I didn’t even look at him. “Someone you don’t know,” I replied coolly.

He reached out, trying to snatch my phone, but I didn’t resist.

Still, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t unlock it. In the end, he had to hand it back, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“Tomorrow,” he said flatly, “you’re coming with me to a press conference. You’ll publicly admit that we’re already divorced.”

A short laugh escaped me as I idly scrolled through my phone. That was when I saw the news—Rodney had been far too brazen these past few days. His relationship with Harper was now all over the internet.

Only the identity of their child had been carefully kept under wraps.