Shattered Illusions: Love, Lies, and Redemption

"Remington, come on, I'm your mom. You really think I'd do anything to hurt you?

Just think about it yourself. You and Lizetta have been careful, right? So why the big secret when she got pregnant before and suddenly needed to 'study abroad'?

And now, I've been making her those nutritious soups, and she won't touch them. I even heard she joined some dance troupe, planning to perform while she's pregnant! Clearly, she's trying to endanger the pregnancy. With all these shady moves, can you blame me for wanting to dig a little deeper?

I can't stand by and watch her deceive you. In the clinic today, she admitted it herself that the baby isn't yours."

Remington clenched his fists, his handsome face clouded with frustration, unable to listen anymore. He slowly turned to face Hanna, his lips curling into a mocking smile as he spoke. "Mom, what really bothers you? That I might be getting duped, or whether this baby could potentially match with Joseph? You think I'm an idiot, unable to see through this?"

about him being cuckolded, about his feelings, wouldn't

not be his, meaning Joseph lost another chance at a cure. Hanna was pinned under his hawk-like, sharp gaze, her expression

to mask her anxiety, "Remington, you can't think of me like that. You were my firstborn; how

it's for Joseph, he's your brother, your flesh and blood. As the eldest, don't you want him to find a match, to get better? Why get so angry over your child potentially being a match for Joseph?" Hanna's voice grew louder and more assertive as she spoke. Remington, observing her lack of remorse or guilt, felt a chill in his heart despite long having lost any illusions about maternal affection. With a mocking glint in his eye, he let out a dry laugh and leaned closer to Hanna, his

a single day of peace and certainly wouldn't treat my

was thunderous,

sword. She trembled, her grip on Remington's arm weakening as she stepped

have the thought. How could you

Lizetta felt a bit wronged, Remington, you'd turn against your own