Chapter 2 Just a Bastard
Rachel's hand trembled as she pushed the door open.
She felt the damp cold air rush over her skin—chilling.
The room was windowless, its cramped, suffocating space barely illuminated by a single low-watt bulb which cast a sickly yellow glow—it was no place for a child.
Only other thing was a narrow cot that had a thin, mildewed blanket right over it. There was also a small, fragile figure huddled in the corner of the narrow cot.
The boy was painfully thin, dressed in filthy, ill-fitting clothes that hung off his frail frame. His face was pale, his hair brittle and faded, and he clutched a piece of hard, stale bread, nibbling at it in tiny bites.
At the sound of the door, he flinched and lifted his head. His wide eyes were filled with fear and wariness, like a stray kitten that had been kicked too many times.
The moment he saw a stranger, he shrank back against the wall, the bread slipping from his fingers. His small body shook uncontrollably.
Rachel froze up, feeling shock all over her muscles as her blood turned to ice. Was this her son?
The child she had ached for every day and night in prison? Since when had the Lancaster Family fallen so low that they could not even feed a child?
Her son had been locked away in a place like this—hidden like a rat in the dark.
"Baby..." Her voice cracked, tears spilling before she could stop them.
She lunged closer to him, eager to have him in her arms.
He was startled by her sudden move, instantly crying out in fear. He crawled away to another corner and buried his face in his knees, whimpering weakly as he shivered.
How could Sebastian be this cruel? Hating her was one thing, but this child was innocent. She felt so much grief and even more fury, almost drowning in them.
She spun around and bolted from the tiny, airless room, running headlong back into the still-roaring party.
As soon as she emerged, the music and chatter died down. Everyone stared at her with widened eyes, while she trembled in rage and emotion. Sebastian had a glass of wine in one hand. Laura was also by his side, wearing a smile that rivalled the glow of the diamonds around her neck.
Rachel marched over to him with tears burning in her eyes. As she spoke her angry words, she pointed back the way she'd come from.
"Sebastian! Are you even human? That is your son! You—you locked him in there? He's just a little boy! He's afraid of the dark! He's starving! He thought I was going to hit him! God, what have you done to him?"
Her voice shook, the words tumbling over each other in a near-hysterical rush.
Sebastian set down his glass and looked at her with icy detachment, as if watching a bad actress overplay her part.
"My son?" His laugh was cold and sharp. "Rachel, I already had the paternity test done. And you still want to claim he's mine? That boy is nothing but a bastard you had with God knows who. I've fed him, kept him off the streets—that's more than he deserves."
"As for where he lives?" He glanced in the direction she had come from, utterly indifferent. "For a bastard, having a roof over his head is already a luxury."
"You animal!"
Rachel roared at him, still confused by the test being wrong, but she didn't think about that, now exploded with rage.She raised her hand, ready to strike his face. She swung, but he caught her wrist with bone-crushing force.
"Three years in prison and you still haven't learned your place."
He threw her hand away like it was a hot rod, and he turned to the security guards and barked, "Get this crazy woman out of here. If she sets foot inside again, you're all fired."
The guards didn't hesitate. They hauled her limp frame over to the exit and threw her out the door like she was trash, and she landed hard onto the cold wet ground. The fine autumn rain had begun falling at some point, and her thin clothes were already getting soaked. The chill cut straight to her bones, but it was nothing compared to the chill in her heart.
The music and laughter swelled up once more inside the house, as if all that had happened was just a dream.
Her pain, her humiliation—inside those walls, it was nothing but an unwelcome interruption.
She sat in the rain, her vision blurred by the mix of tears and water, her body trembling from cold and anguish alike.
All she could remember was the sight of the boy's terrified eyes, and his small fragile frame—the images sliced through her like a blunt knife.
And then, a pair of jeweled high heels stopped in front of her.
Rachel lifted her head in a daze.
Laura stood there under a lace-trimmed umbrella, looking down at her with the smug pity of a victor.
The star of the party had come out alone, and it was not to offer kindness.
"Well, if it isn't our Mrs. Lancaster," Laura said sweetly, her voice dripping with malice. "Sitting out here in the rain—you must be freezing. Oh, wait. I forgot. You won't be Mrs. Lancaster much longer. Sebastian already has the lawyers drafting the divorce papers."
Rachel could only stare at her, with quivering lips that produced no words.
"Look at you. Pathetic." Laura nudged a puddle with her toe, sending a splash of dirty water onto Rachel's trousers. She laughed softly. "You only have yourself to blame. You had the name, but you disrespected it by cheating and embezzling company funds—"
"I never did any of that!" Rachel rasped, her voice nearly swallowed by the rain; so weak and desperate.
"Does it matter if you did?" Laura crouched slightly, her tone dropping to a venomous whisper meant for Rachel alone. "What matters is that Sebastian believes you did. What matters is that I've won. Soon, everything will be mine—your title, Sebastian's love, the Lancaster fortune. Oh, and that little bastard."
At the words "little bastard," Rachel's head snapped up, her eyes burning with murderous fury.
Laura only smiled wider. "Don't look at me like that. You're the one who got yourself knocked up by, only God knows who. The look on Sebastian's face when he saw the DNA report was so priceless. Letting that brat live is the most mercy you'll ever get from him. Did you really think he'd raise a bastard as his heir?"
"It was you! You planned all of this!" Rachel's teeth chattered with rage.
"Careful, Rachel," Laura straightened out and smoothed her dress, wearing a look that was innocent and cruel at the same time, "You can't just accuse a person. Do you have any evidence? You certainly didn't have any three years ago, and now you're just a felon fresh out of prison. Who would believe anything you say?"
