Page 121 of Possessive Billionaire's Twisted Hunt

Without thinking, she stepped in front of Christian, blocking Gemma from coming any closer. She pushed the woman back by her shoulders.

"Don’t come closer. He doesn’t want to see you. Leave. Right now!"

Gemma’s expression darkened with sorrow. She glanced at Christian. "You’re not going to forgive me?" she whispered. "I made a mistake, Christian. I keep apologizing—that’s why I come to you again and again. Can’t you just forgive me? I’m your mom! I gave birth to you. You owe me this much, Christian. I feel so guilty for that day. It eats at me every single day." Tears welled up in her eyes.

Christian’s face remained emotionless. "Not all things deserve an apology," he said flatly. His gaze bore into her, void of warmth. "You may have given birth to me, but you were never a mother."

His tone turned even icier. "If you feel guilty, then do yourself a favor, and stay out of my fucking sight. Live with the choices you made. The guilt is yours to bear, not mine."

Gemma’s heart clenched painfully. He hadn’t called her 'Mom' since the day she left him. And now, he was looking at her as if she were nothing more than a stranger.

Back then, while pregnant with Christian, she had fallen in love with another man. Even after giving birth to Christian, she couldn't get over her love for that man. Drowning in depression, she had taken Christian with her. And then she made the cruelest decision—leaving Christian behind in the middle of the city to search for the man she loved.

She hadn’t realized the severity of her actions back then.

She married that man, started a new life, and never looked back. But as time passed, guilt consumed her. It haunted her, whispering in the dead of night, never letting her sleep. Christian’s cries from that day echoed in her mind like a never-ending nightmare.

And in her mind, she had convinced herself that unless Christian forgave her, that nightmare would never end.

"Christian..." Gemma’s voice cracked as she begged.

"Leave." His grip on Ivy’s hand tightened, his fingers curling possessively around hers. He met Gemma’s gaze with finality. "Don't come back. Not now, not ever. I don’t want to see you again."

Tears spilled down Gemma’s cheeks. She turned around, leaving the room, then the hospital, her hand clutching her chest as she walked away.

The next day, Christian was discharged.

The doctors were shocked by his rapid recovery. Unlike the last time, when his paralysis had lasted for months, this time he regained movement within hours.

They called it a miracle.

Christian disagreed. "It wasn’t a miracle," he said. "It was Ivy."

His voice held no doubt when he added. "She lives inside me. She’ll never be apart from me. She’s my soulmate."

Ivy nearly died of heartache all over again.

Hank came to drop them off at Christian’s house. As he glanced around the massive yet empty mansion, he clicked his tongue.

"You both should have kids soon," he remarked casually. "This place already feels like a haunted house."

Ivy’s eyes widened, and she immediately turned to Christian in alarm.

But the man had no shame whatsoever. Instead, he shot her a heated stare, his gaze dark and suggestive. Flustered, Ivy quickly turned her head away, her cheeks burning.

Hank left soon after, and as night descended, Ivy found herself in bed with Christian, his arms wrapped around her from behind. His hand had slipped beneath her nightshirt, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on her stomach.

Ivy’s eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, her body relaxing into his hold. Just as she was about to drift off, Christian’s voice broke the silence.

"Ivy," he whispered suddenly, his lips grazing her ear.

"Hm?" she mumbled sleepily.

"I heard you," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "When you thought I was asleep. I heard you say that you love me."

Ivy’s eyes flew open, her heart pounding violently in her chest.

She had thought he was asleep when she’d whispered those words.

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