Bad Nanny

"I'm not only alive. I'm living well."

I glared at Austin.

For six years, I had imagined him waiting for me, flowers in hand, our daughter by his side, welcoming me home.

But reality was crueler than any nightmare.

I had spent those six years in the lab. My face had aged under the radiation and drugs. He, on the other hand, had hardly changed at all. He still looked as handsome as when we first married. Only now, those once-warm eyes were cold and unrecognizable.

The man before me was no longer the Austin who had loved me.

Before our marriage, the research institute had courted me repeatedly, but back then, Austin's startup had failed, and he'd fallen to rock bottom.

I stayed by his side, rejecting opportunity after opportunity. Later, the institute secretly funded him to ease my worries, and when his company thrived, we married.

But his success had never been his own. With a flimsy company full of holes, how could he have drawn so much investment? All of it had come from the resources I had given him.

And now, he turned his back on me as though none of it mattered.

My daughter stared at me in disbelief.

"Are you really… my mommy?"

When I nodded, she flung herself into my arms, sobbing.

"Mommy, is it really you? I missed you so much. Why did you only come back now? Dad said you were dead. I couldn't even find your grave…"

Her words broke something inside me. I stroked her hair, forcing my fury into focus. Every ounce of it pointed at Austin.

"Austin, I don't hate you for finding another woman. But Amy is your daughter. How could you let her suffer like this?"

He showed not a flicker of guilt. Instead, he reprimanded me coldly.

"And what right do you have to lecture me? You abandoned her for six years. What kind of mother does that?"

Then, with casual indifference, he added, "Since you're back, sign the divorce papers."

The crowd, who had finally settled, burst into uproar again.

"I didn't know Mr. Grant even had a wife!"

"She disappeared for so long. We thought she was dead."

"Maybe she ran out of money and came crawling back to blackmail him."

I ignored the gossip and stepped toward him.

"You want a divorce? Fine. But I have two conditions."

He gave me a frigid look and nodded slightly. "Say it. How much do you want?"

"I don't want money," I said. "I want back everything I gave you. Since you no longer love me, they're useless in your hands."

He frowned.

"I thought you were dead. I burned everything. Only this remains."

From his bag, he pulled out a ring.

The sight of it made my heart tremble.

Seven years ago, during a car accident, I had shielded him with my body and broken three ribs. When I woke in the hospital, he was drenched in tears. He had held my hand, swearing he would love me forever.

Later, two of those ribs were crafted into a ring. He said he would wear it always, to remember my sacrifice.

For a fleeting moment, his eyes softened as he stared at the ring. But then he tossed it carelessly at my feet.

I scrambled to pick it up, clutching it to my chest.

"I don't have time," he said, his face dark with impatience. "What's the second condition?"

I tightened my grip on my daughter's hand. "After our divorce, Amy's custody belongs to me."

"Impossible. Amy is my daughter."

"How shameless can you be?" My voice shook with suppressed rage. "If you truly thought of her as your daughter, you wouldn't let a bastard child and a nanny torment her."

His face darkened instantly. He struck me across the face.

"Claire, watch your mouth! That boy is my son! Sign the divorce papers now, and I'll be merciful enough to give you money. Refuse, and don't blame me for being ruthless."

My daughter broke into heart-wrenching sobs. She collapsed to her knees, pleading.

"Dad, I'll go with you! Just don't hit Mom again."

Clutching my swollen cheek, I glared at him, then pulled Amy into my arms and shielded her behind me.

"Don't be afraid, Amy. With me here, you'll never kneel to anyone again."

I shot Austin a searing look.

"Least of all to this beast who dares call himself a father."

His eyes sharpened with murderous intent.

"You dare say I'm unfit to be a father? And what about you, Claire? You abandoned her for six years! Is that what you call being a good mother?"

Isla sneered. "Look at yourself. You can't even take care of yourself, and you think you can raise Austin's daughter?"

I met her contempt with icy resolve. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out my identification card.

"How do you know I can't?" I held it high for all to see. "I'm a researcher with the National Research Bureau. I don't need to tell you what that means."