The Ex-Wife's Redemption: A Love Reborn Chapter 231

It was just an apology. One simple apology and we'd be free. My little Billy could sleep in his warm, soft bed instead of curled up on this hard, narrow cot in the police station.

I watched my son sleep, his small face troubled even in dreams. The weight of my stubbornness crushed my chest.

What kind of mother was I, letting my pride force my child to spend the night in a police station?

The female officer who'd been keeping us company noticed my distress. Seeing Billy was asleep, she leaned forward and spoke in a hushed tone.

"Mrs. Wilson, according to police procedure, you're allowed to make a call to someone you trust," she explained gently. "You can ask them to visit you or to hire a lawyer on your behalf."

She glanced toward the door before continuing, her voice dropping even lower. "In your situation, I'd recommend calling someone with influence. Someone powerful enough to outrank the people pressing charges. That would be your best option right now."

I understood her kindness immediately and replied with genuine gratitude: "Thank you! But you took my cell phone when I arrived."

The officer pointed across the hall to a small room. "There's a landline in there. Once you decide who to call, you can use it." She checked her watch. "There's a time limit though—five minutes maximum."

I thanked her again and walked toward the room without hesitation. Alexander had returned to Aspen for New Year's, and I didn't want to disrupt his life with my problems. Betty was my only option.

Betty didn't have many powerful connections in New York, except for her ex-boyfriend Benjamin. After receiving my midnight call, she immediately called him for help.

Benjamin had a terrible habit—he couldn't tolerate any noise while sleeping. Once awakened, he'd remain sleepless until dawn.

"What the hell do you want?" he barked into the phone, clearly annoyed at being disturbed.

After Betty explained my situation, he cursed under his breath and gave her Henry's number instead.

"She's Henry Harding's wife! Who in New York has more power than him? Why are you calling me instead of him? I'm not in the habit of rescuing other men's wives in the middle of the night!"

Betty quickly dialed Henry's number. She barely finished explaining my situation when he hung up. When she tried calling back, all she got was a dial tone.

Betty stared at her now-dark phone screen, grabbed her coat and rushed to the police station. Unfortunately, her efforts were futile—they wouldn't even let her see me.

I didn't sleep a wink all night. As dawn broke, I sat watching Billy toss and turn on the narrow bed, my eyes bloodshot from exhaustion. Looking at my son's uncomfortable sleep, all my defiance had drained away, replaced by regret and heartache.

Why had I been so stubborn about refusing to apologize?

This world was never fair—the weak always had to bow to the strong. That was just reality.

Just as I'd resolved to swallow my pride and apologize, the door swung open from outside.

"Sophia Wilson, come out!" a voice commanded. "Someone wants to see you!"

The female officer, worried about waking Billy, quickly motioned for me to follow her, promising to watch over my sleeping son.

I had barely taken a seat in the interview room when I found myself face-to-face with the wealthy woman from yesterday, the one I'd fought with. Her face radiated smug satisfaction.

"Well? Have you reconsidered? Ready to apologize?" she asked, her voice dripping with condescension.

I clenched my fists tightly. It went against everything in me to apologize when I'd done nothing wrong. But for Billy's sake, I couldn't watch my child suffer.

"I'm sorry for what happened," I forced myself to say, the words burning my throat. My nails dug deep into my palms, using physical pain to numb the emotional humiliation.

"Too late!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "A simple apology isn't enough anymore. You'll pay my son $1 million in compensation, make a public apology through the media, and write a formal letter of remorse!"

Her demands were even more outrageous than yesterday's. After laying out her conditions, she gave me a contemptuous once-over.

"Don't think I don't know who you are—you're Henry Harding's discarded wife," she sneered. "You're nothing but damaged goods he doesn't want anymore."

She leaned closer, her expensive perfume suffocating me. "You're just a pathetic divorcée who can't even keep her husband. Henry won't lift a finger to help you!"

Her eyes gleamed with malice. "You're like an ant beneath my shoe. I could crush you today and nobody would care enough to save you."

Looking at her fleshy, arrogant face, I suddenly understood something: Billy's fight with her son probably wasn't a simple children's scuffle at all.

I quickly regained my composure, meeting her gaze coldly.

"Since you know about my relationship with Henry, you should also know we're still legally married," I replied calmly. "If Henry decides to target your family, you wouldn't even be able to stay in New York."

I'd expected my mention of the Harding name to at least give her pause. Instead, she burst into mocking laughter.

"You think the Harding family is still the untouchable powerhouse it once was?" She leaned forward, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let me tell you something—Harding Investment is collapsing. Their stock is plummeting, their cash flow has dried up. They'll be lucky to survive the month."

I frowned, unsure whether to believe her. Seeing my doubt, she laughed even louder.

"Don't believe me? When was the last time your father-in-law got a full night's sleep at home? Or your husband—when did he last make time for you?"

Her eyes narrowed with malicious glee. "Weren't you planning to report him for drugging and assaulting you? Go ahead! If you win that case, the Harding family is finished for good. We're all waiting for that day!"

I fell into deep thought. As much as I hated to admit it, there had been signs.

Richard hadn't been seen for weeks. Even in his hospital bed, Henry had been constantly reviewing documents, his brow perpetually furrowed with concern.

Could she be telling the truth?

I looked at her impassive face and asked flatly: "Why should I believe anything you say?"

"Whether I'm telling the truth or not, you'll find out in about twenty days," she replied smugly. "Meanwhile, here's what you'll do: kneel and beg for forgiveness, make a public apology through the media, and pay my son $1 million. Otherwise, you and your son can rot in jail!"

She stood up, straightening her designer jacket. "Henry is too busy saving his family's empire to worry about you. Think about that while you sit here."

I immediately refused: "That's impossible! Don't push me too far!"

Before I could say anything more, she was already walking away. At the doorway, she turned back with a sinister smile.

"If you kneel and apologize to me right now, I might make your stay here more comfortable." Her smile widened at my defiant expression. "But judging by your stubbornness, that's unlikely. So, I wish you an unforgettable experience tonight."

With a final wink, she departed, practically skipping with satisfaction.

I didn't know the true state of the Harding family's finances, but she had spoken with such conviction that I wondered if there might be truth to her claims.

If the Hardings were indeed facing a crisis, how could I possibly save myself and Billy?

When I returned to our room, the female officer could tell from my face that the negotiation had failed.

"Mrs. Wilson," she advised kindly, "these people have money and influence. I really suggest you accept their terms, swallow your pride."

She hesitated before adding, "I've just received orders to transfer to another position. Someone else will be watching over you." Though she didn't spell it out, I understood her implication perfectly.

That woman truly had the power to make things happen—having this sympathetic officer reassigned was just the first step in tonight's planned torment.

I had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I could only endure whatever came.

As night fell, the north wind howled outside, making the tree branches creak ominously.

Exhausted after a day and night without sleep, I had finally succumbed to slumber, curled protectively around Billy's small body on the narrow bed, resembling a child without security.

Heavy footsteps approached from outside, bringing with them an atmosphere of dread as they headed straight for our room.

I wasn't sleeping deeply and opened my eyes at the sound.

Four burly men appeared in our small room, wearing baseball caps pulled low over their faces.

They moved like ghosts in the darkness, silent and menacing.