People around me had advised, “You should have another child. Powerful men are never without women. At least Diego’s cleaner than most.”
“Give him more children. No matter what he does outside, your title as Mrs. Powell will always stand firm.”
The Powell family only produced one son per generation.
If I had another child, boy or girl, then even if Diego wanted to make things hard for me, his parents would step in first.
After all, who would go against the benefits right in front of them?
And more importantly, I still had Madeline.
She was nearly everything I lived for.
I carefully tucked the report away, drove home, and brewed a pot of nourishing soup while waiting for Madeline to return.
Night slowly fell.
After the tenth unanswered call to Diego, I could no longer hold it in.
I grabbed my car keys and rushed out to look for him.
He wasn’t at the office.
The amusement park had long closed.
Just as I was about to drive to the Powell family’s old residence in a panic, the housemaid finally called.
“Madam, Madeline’s home. Assistant Walter just dropped her off. She’s sleeping soundly now.”
I leaned back in my seat, closed my eyes, and exhaled slowly.