Chapter 860

“I can disappear. I won’t bother you anymore. As long as…”

“What did you just say?” Irene asked, her voice trembling.

“…you give me back Mike, I’ll take him and leave forever,” Teresa pleaded, her voice breaking.

Irene had planned to give Teresa one last chance, but her defiance only fueled Irene’s anger. She yanked her hand away, her patience nearly gone.

“Give birth to the one you’re carrying, then get out yourself. What right do you have to take my grandson away? Enough, I’m done wasting my breath on you. Just leave already,” Irene snapped.

“If you don’t hand over my child today, I’m not leaving, no matter what,” Teresa shouted, her desperation clear in her voice.

Teresa tried to rush in again, but Irene blocked her and yelled for the security guard.

“Security guard, get her out of here. This woman is crazy today,” Irene shouted.

The security guard grabbed Teresa’s arm and said, “Ms. Johnston, please leave.”

“Get off me! Don’t touch me!” Teresa snapped, brushing the security guard’s hand away. Quick as a flash, Irene slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

“Irene, open the door. Give me back my son,” Teresa cried out.

She was shivering all over, the cold wind biting through her, the chill cutting straight to her core.

Seeing how stubborn Teresa was, the security guard just shook his head helplessly and walked away, leaving her there pounding on the door in the pouring rain.

“You… give me back my child,” Teresa choked out.

Her voice, once hoarse from shouting, was now growing weaker and weaker.

The rain stung her eyes, and she was soaked through. She didn’t even know how much time had passed. Then, her legs gave way, and she crumpled to the ground, limp and trembling.

“Please, I’m begging you, give me back my son,” she cried out, her voice breaking.

She pounded on the door in agony, her shoulders shaking. “Irene, no. Mrs. Lynn, I’m begging you, please give me back my son.”

Her pleas were met with nothing but silence. Inside, Irene pretended not to hear a thing. Nothing would make her open that door again.

The night was pitch-black, the highway just as dark. A Rolls-Royce tore through the gloom, overtaking car after car as it sped down the road.

In the back seat, Jonathan sat with his brows tightly knit. “Step on it. Go even faster,” he urged the driver.

“Mr. Lynn, we’re already pushing the limit. Any faster and we’ll get pulled over,” the driver replied nervously.

“Pull over. I’ll drive,” Jonathan snapped, barely able to contain his impatience. He wished he could sprout wings and fly there himself.

Without a word, Jonathan took the driver’s seat. The driver watched in horror as Jonathan sped up, gripping the armrests tightly, knuckles white with fear.

Finally, the Rolls-Royce screeched to a halt in front of a villa. Jonathan jumped out of the car and froze.

There was Teresa, the woman he loved most, soaked by the pouring rain, trembling as she pleaded with his mother to return her child.

In that moment, it felt like a bullet struck Jonathan’s heart. He was overwhelmed with pain, unable to catch his breath.

Jonathan rushed forward. His hands were almost trembling as he pulled Teresa up. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion.

Teresa froze, then slowly turned her head to look at Jonathan.

She clung to his arm, her voice choked with sobs as she pleaded, “Please, ask your mom to give me back my child. I’ll do anything. Tell me what you want.”

Jonathan couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He just pulled her into his arms, holding her tight.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Jonathan’s heart twisted with guilt. He thought, ‘This is my fault. If I hadn’t seen it, I would never have realized how much my mom crushed her and how small and helpless she looked.’

The rain soaked his hair, and the air carried a chill. Jonathan couldn’t even imagine how long she’d been out here all alone.

He hurriedly took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around Teresa, shielding her from the rain. Then, he knocked on the door.

He knocked so forcefully that it sounded like pounding on the door.