Chapter 275: Flashback – The Womb of Hatred (23 Years Ago)

Author’s POV

Inside the hospital corridors, which reeked of cold disinfectants, Violet stood rigid as a marble statue, her eyes fixed on an imaginary point in the void. Her features reflected a shock that paralyzed her ability to speak, while her hands trembled with slight spasms she couldn’t control. The words her mother had just uttered were a lightning bolt that scorched all her visions of the future.

On the other side, Stewart exhaled in frustration, turning his face away as he crossed his arms in a defensive stance. He spoke in a sharp tone that stripped the place of any hint of mercy: "I don’t want children from anyone... this was never in my calculations, and it never will be."

The mother didn’t flinch before Stewart’s coldness. Instead, she took a step forward and shot him a stern, indisputable look, saying in a resonant, commanding voice: "You will take this child and raise him by force, Stewart... you have no other choice in this game."

At this, the volcano of silent rage inside Violet erupted. Her voice came out faltering, choked with emotion as she turned to her mother: "Mother... do you realize what you’re asking? I don’t want to give birth to this creature! I can’t stand the thought of my body containing something foreign, growing inside me month after month... I will end this now. I’m going to abort it!" Violet clenched her fists so hard her nails dug into her skin until her knuckles turned white, a sweeping sense of revulsion invading every cell of her body toward that fetus.

A severe cruelty etched itself onto the mother’s face as she raised a warning finger: "Impossible! This child will stay alive and come into the light. I won’t allow you to destroy my desire to see my grandchildren... and what you carry in your womb is my first grandchild, and I will not give him up."

Violet screamed, placing her hand on her chest, feeling as if the hospital walls were closing in on her, choking her breath: "Mother, you’ve completely lost your mind! Look at him... even Stewart doesn’t want it! How can you force me into a hell that no one desires?"

The mother didn’t blink.

She replied with an icy coldness as if discussing a business deal: "I don’t care if Stewart wants it or rejects it... what matters is that I want it, and that is enough."

Violet felt lostness swallowing her. She raised her hand to wipe the beads of cold sweat beginning to cover her forehead and asked in a desperate tone: "And my university? My future that I planned for? Where will I go with a swollen belly? How will I face the world?"

Her mother shot her a scathing look of reprimand and replied bluntly: "You should have thought about your future and your university before you got into this mess... now it’s too late for regret."

Violet gathered the remains of her strength and repeated with desperate defiance, tears gleaming in her eyes: "I told you, I’m aborting it... I won’t let it stay."

Here, the mother began narrating her plan, drawn with diabolical precision, as if she had anticipated this rebellion: "You will never do that. Listen to me well... you only have two months left to finish your academic year, and your belly won’t show clearly during this period, so there’s no need to worry about a scandal. After the exams are over, I will send you immediately to your grandmother’s house in the countryside, far away from all eyes."

Violet’s eyes widened in genuine horror. She took a step back, shaking her head: "What? You really are crazy! Do you think I’ll spend months in that isolation? I won’t do it!"

The mother continued with a chilling mechanicalness, completely ignoring her daughter’s objection: "You will do everything I say to the letter... you will give birth there in secret, and not a single soul will know that you were the one pregnant. Once the child is out, we will give him to Meredith to raise."

Stewart stopped staring at the cold hospital walls and turned toward the mother, his features masked in skepticism: "And do you really think Meredith will accept this play? Will she agree to raise a child that isn’t hers?"

The mother smiled with an absolute confidence that made a shiver run through Violet’s body: "She will... Meredith will do what I decide here. Now, close this ridiculous subject... let us go and wait for Meredith to come out; she is still in the operating room."

The mother moved with her staged dignity, followed by Stewart, while Violet remained in her place, frozen as if nailed to the ground. She felt a bitter nausea tearing at her stomach a nausea that wasn’t due to hormones or pregnancy, but the nausea of hatred. She felt an indescribable disgust at the thought of a living being sharing her body. Violet wasn’t the type to be moved by maternal instinct; she naturally hated children, finding them to be nothing but noise and restrictions she couldn’t tolerate.

She never imagined in her worst nightmares that she would one day be a "vessel" carrying a child to present to her sister on a golden platter.

She couldn’t stand being within those suffocating walls any longer. She left the room with quickened steps, almost tripping over her clothes as if running from a fate chasing her. She left the hospital like a madwoman and hailed the first taxi she saw. She threw herself into the back seat and told the driver in a breathless voice to take her to the public park; she needed oxygen, a vast space to be alone and figure out how to face this siege.

When she arrived, she paid the fare and got out quickly, heading toward the deepest point of the park until she found an old wooden bench eaten away by woodworms. She sat down in a breakdown, burying her face in her palms, letting her body shiver freely. She drowned in an ocean of dark thoughts and, in the dark depths of her heart, made one decision: If this child was destined to be born against her will, she would not allow a single human on earth to know her connection to it... she would erase this trace as if it never existed.

In that moment, while drowned in her desolate silence, she felt a slight pressure on the bench beside her; someone had sat near her. She didn’t bother to raise her head or look at them; she was too heavy to care about a stranger’s presence. But suddenly, a familiar voice, deep and calm, pierced the stillness of her turbulent thoughts, speaking with a calculated coldness:

"How are you, Violet?"

Violet turned her body stiffly, feeling a slight shiver of excitement and anticipation as she saw Morgan sitting with a terrifying calmness beside her. She hadn’t seen him since that wild night at his house the night she left her eternal mark on his skin when she coldly tattooed the word "Blind." She shot him a scrutinizing look and said in a low voice carrying a tone of feigned indifference: "Morgan... what brings you here?"

He replied, fixing his piercing gaze on her features as if trying to read what lay behind the mask of coldness: "You look surprised to see me... did you think you’d get rid of me that easily?"

A malicious smile formed on her lips, gleaming in her almond-shaped eyes. She squinted and said: "Are you stalking me, Morgan? Have you become my shadow that follows me in secret?"

He spoke in a calm tone, but one that carried a hidden threat: "You know the answer well... I don’t let what interests me slip from my sight."

She raised her head with exaggerated pride, interlacing her fingers over her knee, and said: "It took you quite a while to pull yourself together and face me after that night."

He leaned his body toward her slightly, until she inhaled his strong perfume mingled with the scent of tobacco. He replied in a husky voice: "I am a man who doesn’t like to rush his steps, especially with a woman like you... I like to drain the moment until the very last drop."

She asked with genuine curiosity, tilting her head to the side: "And why all this deliberation with me specifically?"

He said, looking at her lips with an unsettling focus: "Because you are the type who has the power to make me lose my mind completely... staying away from you was the only way I could control my desire to possess you."

She let out a light laugh that rang through the silent park. She said with amusement: "Mmm... so you finally admit it... you are a psychopath, Morgan."

He replied with an unshakeable coldness: "I’m no more deranged than you are, Violet... we are two sides of the same coin."

Her narcissistic smile widened. She said with vanity: "Thank you for that wonderful compliment... it’s the best thing I’ve heard today."

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if recalling the feel of the scalpel blade sinking into his skin by her hand. He said: "You know very well how to use a scalpel with a surgeon’s precision... your skills in torture and tattooing impressed me more than I expected."

She replied with a poisonous coyness, touching her neck: "I’m so glad my work met your approval... don’t forget that being a surgeon is my profession."

He reached out and felt the site of the tattoo under his clothes, where the word still scorched his skin. He said: "You tattooed exactly the right word... ’Blind’."

She asked, moving closer to him until their gazes met in a blatant challenge: "And to what degree do you find it correct? I want to know how your sick mind interprets this tattoo."

He said, drowning in the depth of her dark eyes: "To the degree that it represents the truth of my love for you... a blind love that sees nothing but your savage beauty." 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

She said with an indifferent coldness, turning her face away: "That interpretation isn’t enough for me... I want more."

He spoke with an infatuation that coated his voice, making him sound enchanted: "Nothing in this universe is enough for you, Violet... all words, all actions, seem dull and insufficient to satisfy your ego."

Morgan’s words were the fuel that fed Violet’s flaming narcissism; he knew exactly which strings to pull to make her feel her greatness. She leaned back on the decaying wooden bench and watched the distant sky, saying in a mysterious tone: "Do you want me to give you another tattoo? A new name to define your identity to me?"

Morgan replied with clear interest as he watched her movements: "A wonderful idea... what is going on in that beautiful mind this time?"

She said, toyed with strands of her hair boredly: "I haven’t decided yet... but inspiration will come to me the moment I see your blood flowing again."

He said suddenly, trying to tense the atmosphere and grab her full attention: "I know you’re with Thomas now..."

No sign of surprise appeared on her face; if he knew her location in this secluded park, it was natural that he was watching every inch she moved.

She said coldly, looking into the void: "And what is required? Do you want to congratulate us and wish us eternal happiness?"

He said in a tone charged with desire and suppressed jealousy: "You know very well what I wish for, Violet... I wish to be the one who tears your clothes off every night."

Violet smiled a mysterious smile and said: "I know... I know exactly what’s going on in your head."

He asked with sudden seriousness, grabbing her hand: "Do you really love him? Was that man able to reach your heart?"

She turned to him with a coldness that shook his being. She replied bluntly: "I don’t know how to love... these weak emotions have no place with me." She continued, looking directly into his eyes with sharpness: "I only know how to seize the thing I want, and how to possess it until I’m bored of it."

Her harsh words only increased Morgan’s sick admiration; every word she spoke made him more certain that this woman was the missing half of his dark soul. He loved her strength, her cruelty, and her detachment from emotions in a way a sane mind couldn’t imagine. He said in a low voice: "Interesting... you become more beautiful in my eyes the more cruel you become."

She said suddenly, shattering the dark romantic atmosphere, reaching her hand toward him: "You didn’t give me the amount we agreed upon for that night... I don’t work for free, as you know."

Morgan smiled sarcastically; Violet surprised him every second with her materialism and her ability to turn everything into a deal. He pulled out his leather wallet, stuffed with stacks of cash. As soon as he opened it, Violet’s hand reached out like lightning and pulled out every single banknote inside without exception. She said triumphantly: "Thank you... I’ll consider this the required amount and then some."

Any other man in Morgan’s place would have despised her and thought she was just a whore chasing money, but Morgan saw in her a queen taking tribute from her subjects; he saw that she deserved all the treasures of the earth, and that she knew her high worth and found no shame in demanding it with utter boldness.

He said calmly as he watched her put the money in her bag: "When will you leave Thomas and come to me?"

She asked defiantly, raising her eyebrows: "Why? Do you really want to take his place?"

He replied with a piercing honesty: "I don’t want to take his place... I want to possess you entirely. I want to settle my accounts with every man who touched you before me."

She said with a cold, mocking laugh: "That is a dream hard to achieve, Morgan... it is very difficult, even impossible, to possess a woman like me."

Morgan said with stubbornness and determination: "Yes, I know that... and by nature, I only desire the impossible."

She said, rising from the bench and dusting off her clothes with dignity: "Currently, I am very comfortable with Thomas, and I don’t intend to leave him for anything, no matter what it is."

He said, trying to warn her, his voice carrying a dangerous secret: "But you don’t know the truth, Violet... you don’t know that Thomas..."

She interrupted him firmly, refusing to hear anything that might spoil her plans: "I’m going now, Morgan... stop talking."

Morgan wanted to tell her that Thomas the man she thought she possessed was a married man with two sons, playing the role of a bachelor brilliantly. But she surprised him with a move he didn’t expect; she moved her face close to his until their breaths met, and kissed him a strange and confusing kiss. It wasn’t on his cheek or his lips; it was exactly in the middle. She touched part of his lips and part of his cheek a fleeting sensual touch that stole his heart and mind.

She said with her usual coldness as she moved away: "Goodbye, Morgan." Then she walked away with confident steps, leaving him drowning in the whirlpool of her trace, unable to move from the shock of her surprise.