Focus on Revenge A Photographer’s Killer Shot novel Chapter 21

Chapter 21

I stared at her in disbelief.

Manipulate?

I hadn’t done anything but protect the child I raised.

Why was it so easy for them-Lillian, Doris-to accuse me of using a child, when it was they who had used me all along?

Lillian now stormed into the courtyard as well.

Seeing Rowan still clinging to me, she lost patience.

“You there-push her away!”

A servant stepped forward and shoved me hard.

I stumbled back, barely catching myself before I hit the ground.

I clutched my abdomen, the sharp pain intensifying with every second.

I watched helplessly as the maids dragged a sobbing Rowan back toward Doris and Lillian.

‘Let go of me! I want to go home with Mommy! Mommy-!”

His cries were raw and piercing, echoing through the courtyard.

My heart sank. I suddenly felt… tired.

One was the child’s biological grandmother. The other, his biological mother.

Compared to them, I-an almost-divorced woman-was nothing. Just an outsider.

A sleek black Bentley rolled through the gates.

he sound of the engine pulled my gaze.

he rear door opened.

‘incent stepped out, clad in a tailored black suit. Cold. Impeccable. Distant.

lis eyes flicked over me-expression unreadable.

‘hird POV:

‘hen landed on Rowan, who was still wailing.

Come here, Rowan,” he said, motioning with his hand.

The maids flinched and quickly released the boy.

towan ran toward him.

“Daddy! You’re finally here!” he sobbed into his father

hest

Vincent ran a hand over Rowan’s head. His voice was calm, low.

“Tell me, what happened?”

Before Rowan could speak, Doris approached.

She wiped her tears away delicately, her tone soft, almost regretful.

“It’s my fault. I didn’t think things through. I appeared too suddenly, and Rowan wasn’t ready to accept that I’m his mother. It overwhelmed him.”

“You’re not my mother!”

Rowan shouted and shoved Doris hard.

She let out a startled cry. Her heel twisted. She was about to fall-

Vincent stepped forward and caught her in his arms.

“You okay?”

“I think I twisted my ankle,” she said breathlessly. “But I’m fine. Rowan’s feelings come first.”

Vincent’s eyes darkened. He bent down and swept her up in his arms.

“I’ll take you to the hospital.”

He turned.

His gaze met Isolde’s.

Her eyes were red, locked onto his face.

‘Is it true?” she asked, her voice trembling. “She’s really Rowan’s birth mother?”

‘Yes,” Vincent replied. His voice was steady. Flat.

‘Doris is Rowan’s biological mother.”

There was no guilt in his eyes.

No remorse.

Only cold, brutal honesty.

Isolde’s heart sank-heavy, slow, breaking piece by piece.

、

‘Rowan listens to you. Take him home. Talk to him. Help him understand.”

That was all he said-before walking away, carrying Doris in his arms.

The black Maybach pulled out of the estate and disappeared down the road.

Isolde stood still for a moment, then bowed her head.

Her eyes burned. Her lips parted slightly. She sucked in a deep breath-again, and again-forcing the tears to retreat.

“Mommy?”

Rowan’s little hand found hers.

“Your eyes are red… were you crying?”

Isolde crouched down, touched his cheek, and forced a smile.

“No, sweetheart. Let’s go home.”

She stood and looked at Lillian. “You heard what Vincent said.”

Lillian glared at her, seething.

But Vincent had spoken-there was nothing more she could say.

Soon enough, Doris would be back for good. Vincent would divorce Isolde.

And that woman would be out of their lives-permanently.

That thought comforted her.

On the drive home, Isolde tried to explain Doris’s identity to Rowan.

But the moment she started, he resisted. He cried again.

solde sighed, helpless and aching.

She stopped talking and simply held him close.

He cried himself to sleep before they reached home.

solde gently laid the sleeping child in his bed, tucking the blanket around him.

Downstairs, she heard the sound of a car.

he had just stood up when the door opened.

Vincent stepped inside.

heir eyes met. The air felt heavy.

Where’s Rowan?” he asked.

Asleep. Upstairs.”

He gave a slight nod and brushed past her, heading up.

solde turned. Watched him go.

Her fingers curled tightly at her sides.

She hesitated… but followed.

Five years. Five years of being his wife. Of nights spent in the same bed.

She deserved at least one answer.

Vincent pushed open the door to the child’s room.

He picked up the sleeping Rowan and turned to leave.

“Where are you taking him?” Isolde asked from the hallway.

“Doris has depression,” he said, not turning around. “She needs him.”

And just like that, he walked out.

Isolde stood frozen.

She didn’t move until the sound of the car disappeared.

No explanations. No choices. No chance to speak.

He came and went as he pleased.

Not once did he ask her opinion.

She glanced around the empty house.

Then she laughed.

A bitter, hollow laugh.

And as she laughed… the tears finally fell.