I Raised Him with Love. He Repaid Me with Spite

He learned to use Zara to catch his father's attention.

There seemed to be an inherent selfishness in high society.

I became his most convenient tool, and could only passively endure.

I fell into darkness once again.

When I woke up again, Grayson brought me some news.

“Your mother is gone, but according to the nurse, she passed away peacefully.”

Mom is gone; I was so shocked that I couldn't react.

“My sympathies,” Grayson said with a hint of empathy and concern in his voice.

He left a beautifully wrapped gift for me and departed.

I didn't care; once, this kind of considerate act from Grayson had moved me.

But the myriad encounters that followed had long since awakened me—this was delusion.

Delusion?

I vaguely remembered the first time my son called me 'Mom'.

Grayson's warning.

I looked down at the little stone my son had given me when he was a child, which was so out of place in the lavish bedroom or in the entire mansion.

Slowly, I untied the string around my neck and moved to the window.

In the end, I carefully tucked the stone back into my collar.

I handled my mother's funeral.

I put away the last family photo, I touched the image of my beaming self, and buried it with my mother.

Back at the old house, I fell ill again, sinking into those unbearable dreams of the past.

In the dreams, there were Mom’s creditors urging payments, her boyfriend’s wife causing trouble, Grayson's humiliation, my son’s betrayal, and my resentment.

Finally, I sank into the cold, boundless dark.

Eventually, I woke up—it was Lucas.

A small shadow enveloped me, blocking my sunlight.

He stood in front of me, his head held high with arrogance.

"Awake? It's good you didn't snitch."

He knew that even if I did, it wouldn’t really affect him—the future heir.

“Very good, we can enjoy the old hag's money this month! Here, take it.”

He tossed a handful of money at me with a malicious grin.

The red notes fluttered in the air.

Lucas's wanton curse, mocking my incompetence, calling me low-born scum.

He poured all his dissatisfaction from the outside world onto me.

I watched the money flying in the air, not silently enduring as usual. This time, I lifted my head.

I stared at Lucas,

“In the future, you can stop wasting your money for entertainment.”

“What did you say?” He sensed something was wrong.

But he didn’t care, just raised an eyebrow and sneered,

“Not enough?”

Seeing me shake my head, a hint of confusion appeared in his eyes.

“You’ve become greedy, but I advise you to be content. You should be grateful. Father said all women are the same, only here for money and benefits.”

I shut down the recording on my phone, sent it in one smooth motion to the etiquette teacher I had hoped never to meet again. I looked out the window, cold sweat dampening the pillow beneath me. I had no strength, didn't want to say another word.

He rushed over, snatching the phone from me.

Seeing the already-sent message, he screamed and demanded,

“What have you done? Retract it, retract it now! Why can't it be retracted?”

I closed my eyes, ignoring the phone.

“Get out, I need to rest.” For the first time, I cursed at him.

Lucas looked at me in shock.

A rhythmic knock sounded at the door.

The etiquette teacher was already standing at the door, wielding a cane.

The etiquette teacher of the Hunt family was a legacy from generations past—pedantic and strict.

Lucas swallowed with fear and followed the teacher out.