Chapter 4

Flora pushed her wheelchair in. Adrian strode to meet her.

"Didn't I tell you to rest? What are you doing here?"

He crouched in front of her, worriedly holding her hand. His eyes held that familiar focus and tenderness.

Only, it no longer belonged to me.

Flora pointed to the fruit plate on her lap, smiling sweetly:

"Lena gave birth to our children, and now she's saved me. I want to thank her..."

"This is fruit I cut for you. Does she deserve to eat it?"

Flora quickly covered his mouth, playfully scolding:

"How can you say that?"

Adrian fed Flora several pieces of fruit carefully before allowing her to bring the rest to me.

"I can never repay your kindness, so I have a request. I don't know if you'll agree?"

Her gaze fell on the thick bandages on my chest, choking with emotion.

Adrian dotingly kissed away the tears on her face. "Flora, is there anything your husband can't handle? Why do you need to beg her?"

Flora shyly pushed him away:

"Adrian, Lena is watching. Stop it! Don't delay me from talking business with her."

Flora's face was bashful, her complexion rosy—not at all like someone who just had heart transplant surgery.

"Lena, can I ask you to be the godmother of my three children? After all, you saved me, and they were all born from you..."

"No!"

"I don't agree!"

Adrian and I refused in unison, making Flora's smile freeze.

"Why do you both..."

Adrian quickly planted another kiss on Flora's lips before turning to look at me, his eyes instantly returning to their usual coldness.

"Lena Parker, please understand. Only women like Flora are worthy of being Mrs. Whitmore, worthy of being my children's mother. And you..."

He paused, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "You're just a breeding tool. You'll never be worthy."

A sharp pain shot through where my heart should be.

I closed my eyes, forcing the tears back.

Adrian's devotion to Flora Reed was famous in New York—he'd give her the stars if she asked, never the moon.

Refusing to let me be the children's godmother was the first time he'd ever said no to Flora.

To compensate her, he immediately called Mark to attend an auction and bid on everything Flora might possibly like.

Flora suddenly leaned close to me and whispered:

"Lena Parker, you're really hard to kill. You didn't die after giving birth three times. Now you've got a new heart and you're still so resilient. I just wonder about your mother..."

My pupils constricted. She actually knew about my mother's critical condition.

After a moment's thought, I understood why each of my three deliveries had been more dangerous than the last.

But I couldn't hate this woman who had helped Adrian at all.

"As long as you don't touch my mother, you'll get your wish within a month."

At my last prenatal checkup before the third delivery, I collapsed in the examination room.

After emergency treatment and tests, they discovered late-stage brain cancer.

The doctor said with good care, I had three months at most.

Now that I'd given my heart to Flora, I probably had only the "shortest month" the doctor mentioned.

...

Adrian never showed up until I was discharged.

I also got used to the dull, painful beat of the artificial heart in my chest.

I returned alone to the Whitmore villa and didn't go check on the three children as usual.

Unexpectedly, the door opened a crack, and little Hudson peeked his head in worriedly.

"Miss Parker..."

He was Adrian and Flora's eldest son, now three years old.

"Miss Parker, I heard from Mommy that you saved her. This is my favorite chocolate. It won't hurt anymore after you eat it."

Hudson waddled over on his short legs and handed me the chocolate that had melted somewhat in his grip.

The softest part of my heart was touched. I forced a smile for Hudson and accepted the chocolate:

"Thank you."

The moment I put the chocolate in my mouth, Hudson suddenly burst into tears.

I quickly got up to pick him up and comfort him, but he suddenly pushed hard against my heart:

"Bad person! Why did you steal the chocolate I gave Mommy? And pinch me to make me call you Mommy? You're not my mommy!"

I clutched my heart, cold sweat instantly beading on my forehead. An ominous premonition wrapped around me along with the heart pain.