Christiana’s POV
The cold, sterile atmosphere of the law office felt like a prelude to the war that was about to begin. I wasn’t surprised when I received the invitation to meet Alex’s mother and her legal team. In fact, I’d been expecting it.
Margret Alistair was many things, but subtle was not one of them. I arrived prepared, dressed in my sharpest business suit, showing the confidence of a woman who had fought her battles and earned her scars.
As I entered the meeting room, I saw her sitting there with her team, her posture stiff and regal, eyes sharp as daggers. Next to her sat Alex, his face blank, a mask of indifference that only fueled the anger bubbling inside me. He hadn’t even the decency to look me in the eye. Typical.
Margret was the first to speak, her tone clipped and icy. “Christiana, thank you for coming. We won’t waste time. We’re here to discuss the children.”
“The children?”
Margret leaned forward, her perfectly manicured fingers tapping rhythmically on the table as if she was trying to keep some semblance of patience. “Yes, the children. Ethan and Emma. As you’re aware, they carry the Alistair name. We have grounds to believe they would be better off under Alex’s care, where they would have the resources, upbringing, and stability they deserve.
The arrogance dripping from her voice sent a cold shiver down my spine, but I squared my shoulders and kept my tone level. “Stability? You mean the same “stability‘ Alex offered when he walked away from me? When he decided his life with his new fiancée was more important than his own wife?”
Alex’s jaw tightened, but Margret waved her hand dismissively. “That was five years ago. The past is irrelevant. What matters now is that Alex has reconsidered, and we believe the children need to be with their rightful family.”
I could feel the anger boiling beneath my skin, but I refused to let her rattle me. I leaned forward, meeting her icy gaze head- on. “The rightful family? You mean the one that labeled me barren and worthless? The family that discarded me like trash. after taking vows that were supposed to mean something? Let me make this clear, Margret, I raised those kids. Me. I worked my fingers to the bone, sacrificed everything to provide for them. I was there when they took their first steps, when they had their first fevers, and when they asked why their father wasn’t around.”
I caught a flicker of something in Alex’s eyes, but I ignored it. He had his chance to speak up years ago, and he threw it away.
Margret’s eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with condescension. “This isn’t about you. It’s about what’s best for the children. You’re a single mother running a business; they need more than just your attention. They need security, legacy, and a name that carries weight. You can’t give them that.”
“Oh, but I already have.” My voice was firm, my eyes locked on hers with a fierce determination. “I gave them everything they needed when no one else did. When Alex called me barren, two weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. I carried those twins alone, with no help from anyone. I gave birth alone. I raised them, alone, while your precious son was off living his best life with another woman. And now, five years later, you suddenly want them back because you think you’re entitled to them?”
you
I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped my lips. “You’re delusional, Margret, if you think I’ll hand over my kids just because you’ve decided you want them in your perfect Alistair world. You didn’t care about me when kicking me out, and certainly don’t care about those kids now, because they’re a part of me. This is about control, about proving you can win, but I’m not the same woman you and Alex trampled over years ago. I’ve fought too hard and come too far to let you take anything from me.”
Alex finally broke his silence, his voice low, but the tension in the room was palpable. “Christiana, this isn’t a fight. We’re just trying to do what’s best-
Don’t you dare lecture me on what’s best for them, Alex,” I cut him off sharply. “You walked away. You chose a life without me. You don’t get to stroll back in now and play the hero because things didn’t work out with Bianca.”
Margret’s mask of icy control slipped just for a moment as I saw the flash of anger in her eyes. “Enough of this nonsense,” she snapped. “Those children deserve to be raised with dignity, not in some underdog story you’ve painted for yourself. Alex is their father, and he has the right to be in their lives, to guide them-
“Guide them?” I scoffed, my voice laced with coldness. “You mean the same way you “guided” him into divorcing me? The
Chapter 32
same way you filled his head with lies and twisted every situation to suit your own agenda? You never wanted me in your family, and you did everything in your power to push me out. But here’s the thing. Margret: you didn’t break me then, and you sure as hell aren’t going to break me now. I’m their mother, and no legal team or manipulative scheme of yours is going to change that.”
retort
The room fell into a tense silence as the weight of my words hung in the air. Margret’s face tightened, but she didn’t She was used to getting her way, but I could see she wasn’t dealing with the same meek woman she despised years ago. After what felt like an eternity, she finally spoke, her voice colder than ever. “You’ll regret this. I promise you, this isn’t over.” “Good,” I shot back, standing up and gathering my things. “Because neither am I. You want to fight for them? Bring it on. I’ve been fighting for them since the day they were born. I won’t stop now.
I turned on my heel and walked out of that room, head held high, pulse racing with adrenaline. As I pushed open the door, I caught a glimpse of Alex. For a split second, I saw something like regret in his eyes, but I refused to let it pierce the armor I’d built around myself. He made his choices, and now he would have to live with them.
This fight was far from over, but I knew one thing for certain: I wasn’t going to let anyone take my kids from me. Not Margret, not Alex, not anyone. I’d already been through hell and back. I was ready for whatever they had planned next.
I wouldn’t just survive–I’d win.
