Chapter 2
Shortly after returning to the ward, Ferris and Siena entered one after the other.
The moment Siena walked in, her eyes locked onto the son in my arms, her face blooming with a warm smile.
“Oh, what a beautiful baby—so plump and healthy, he looks so smart already.”
Seeing the thick blanket I’d wrapped around the child, she immediately frowned and said urgently:
“Why so bundled up? What if the blanket irritates his delicate skin? Here, use these soft cotton swaddles.”
She pulled out a pile of brand-new baby clothes from her bag, all made of soft, premium cotton.
She couldn’t wait to take the child from my arms.
I shifted away, my tone cold: “He’s my son. Of course I know how to take care of him.”
Siena frowned slightly when she couldn’t hold him, then forced another fake smile.
“Of course, you are a rich young lady, so you will definitely hire many servants to take care of him and raise him to be a successful person.”
Her eyes were full of maternal love as she stared at the child non-stop.
Ferris chimed in at the perfect moment: “Freya, now that the baby’s born, we need to give him a name. How about Henry?”
Before I gave birth, Ferris had given me several lists of names, and he was particularly fond of Henry.
I only understood later that all those names had been discussed between him and Siena beforehand.
What he liked was obviously what Siena liked too.
I refused on the spot, choosing a name he’d never even mentioned:
“No, our son’s name will be Lucas.”
Ferris’s expression darkened slightly: “Didn’t we agree to use one of my choices? Henry sounds so nice.”
I laughed coldly and pushed the child toward him: “Then you raise him.”
The words he wanted to say about me focusing on raising the child died in his throat. He shut his mouth.
Siena looked displeased, her tone becoming sharp:
“Since you personally chose his name, you’d better take good care of him from now on.”
“I’m counting on watching him bring honor to the family and become an outstanding person.”
I replied flatly: “Don’t worry about it. Focus on your own child instead.”
At the mention of her child, Siena’s face twisted with obvious disgust.
“That child is nothing but trouble—unlikable and annoying to look at.”
“Yeah, barely a day old and we just found him not breathing. What rotten luck.”
My whole body went cold, my palms growing damp.
Almost. Just a little later, and I wouldn’t have been able to save my own child.
Yet when Ferris and Siena spoke of that dead baby, they showed no grief whatsoever—completely cold-hearted.
I couldn’t help asking: “Is he really… dead?”
A flash of contempt crossed Ferris’s eyes, his tone decisive:
“Of course. Newborns are fragile to begin with. For a fatherless child to die—that’s only natural.”
“Freya, you need to take even better care of Lucas. He’s this family’s only hope.”
