Chapter 243:

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Corinne POV

On Sunday morning, I was reviewing legal documents in my study when my phone chimed with a call from the Carlisle estate.

I answered calmly. “Hello?”

“Good morning, Ms. Sargent,” said Mr. Henderson, the head butler, with formal politeness. “My apologies for disturbing you. Miss Lily’s fever has returned slightly this morning, and she’s asking for her mother.”

My maternal instincts kicked in at once. “Thank you for letting me know, Mr. Henderson. Tell Lily I’m on my way.”

I packed a small travel bag, grabbed my car keys, and drove straight to the Carlisle estate. My daughter’s health and emotional well-being were my absolute, non-negotiable priority.

When I arrived, Mr. Henderson greeted me respectfully at the main entrance. “Ms. Sargent, Miss Lily is resting in her bedroom.”

I climbed the grand staircase to Lily’s room. She was tucked beneath her duvet, her cheeks slightly flushed. The moment she saw me come through the door, her eyes lit up with relief.

“Mommy! You’re here!”

“Of course I’m here, sweet girl,” I said with a smile, sitting down beside her bed and taking her small hand. “Mommy’s right here.”

𝖱𝖾а𝖽 𝗳r𝘰m y𝗈u𝘳 𝗉𝗵on𝖾 𝗼n 𝗀𝘢𝗹𝘯о𝘷е𝘭𝘴.𝘤o𝗆

I spent the entire day at her bedside, giving her the medication her pediatrician had approved, reading her favorite stories, and keeping cool compresses on her forehead until her fever finally broke in the late afternoon.

At dusk, Beatrice Carlisle entered the room, leaning on her gold-headed cane. She watched me tuck Lily in, her expression a complex mixture of urgency and aristocratic gravity.

“Corinne,” she said in a low, measured voice. “Lily’s routine has been disrupted, and her health demands absolute stability. You should spend the night in her room so she can rest peacefully.”

I stood, keeping my posture straight and my voice formally calm. “I’ll stay in Lily’s room tonight to make sure her temperature stays normal, Beatrice. But let me be perfectly clear: I’m here strictly as Lily’s mother, to care for her health. My divorce from Blake is legally final, and my permanent residence is my Manhattan apartment.”

Beatrice raised no objection, acknowledging my firm boundary with a stiff, formal nod.

A moment later, Blake appeared in the doorway, dressed in a tailored dark suit. He looked at me sitting beside Lily, his dark eyes heavy with conflicted tension.

“I appreciate you staying for Lily, Corinne,” he said quietly.

“A mother caring for her child needs no appreciation, Mr. Carlisle,” I replied coolly, my tone distant and professional. “I’m here only for my daughter.”

I closed the bedroom door and devoted my full attention to Lily’s peaceful sleep, completely detached from the domestic theater around me.

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