The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife novel Chapter 70

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The Perfect Frame

At eleven o’clock at night, the mansion was already quiet.

The staff had returned to their quarters. Daniel was still locked in his study with his laptop and bourbon. Margaret had gone to bed in her own wing. Alina was locked in her room as usual.

And Clarissa stood outside Junior’s room with her hand on the door handle, listening to the boy’s steady breathing from inside.

She’d been waiting for this moment all day. Waiting for the mansion to truly sleep. Waiting until there were no witnesses.

With slow, careful movements, Clarissa turned the handle and opened the door.

Light from the corridor spilled in slightly, falling across the bed where Junior slept curled up. A Transformers robot toy was clutched tightly to his chest. Optimus Prime. A gift from Alina for Junior’s third birthday.

Clarissa knew this because she’d heard the story countless times. From Margaret. From the staff. Even from Junior himself when the boy was still comfortable enough to talk to her.

“Mama Alina said Optimus is strong like Junior. So Junior has to take care of him.”

Mama Alina.

Two words that made Clarissa want to vomit every time she heard them.

She stepped into the room with silent footsteps, closing the door behind her with a barely audible click.

Junior didn’t move. His breathing remained deep, steady. Sound asleep.

Clarissa stood beside the bed, staring at the boy who was biologically hers but felt like a stranger.

Five years. Five years she’d lost. Five years Alina had stolen from her.

And now Junior slept with the robot that woman had given him. Clutching it like a treasure. Like Alina was the real mother and Clarissa was just… what? A guest? An intruder?

No.

Not anymore.

Clarissa reached for the robot with a quick but careful motion, pulling it from Junior’s embrace slowly.

Junior shifted slightly, frowning in his sleep, his hands searching for the missing robot.

Clarissa froze, waiting.

But Junior just turned over, hugging his pillow instead, and continued sleeping.

Clarissa exhaled the breath she’d been holding, staring at the robot in her hands.

Blue and red plastic. Not very expensive. Not very special. But to Junior, this was everything.

And that was exactly why this robot had to disappear.

She walked out of Junior’s room with the robot in hand, closing the door softly.

In the corridor, she paused briefly, listening. No sounds. No footsteps. The mansion was still quiet.

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Clarissa walked quickly to her own room, entered, and closed the door.

Inside, she’d already prepared everything.

A small hammer she’d taken from the toolbox in the garage that afternoon. A large plastic bag. Rubber gloves.

She placed the robot on the floor, put on the gloves, then picked up the hammer.

Stared at Optimus Prime for one last moment.

Then swung the hammer down.

CRACK.

The robot’s head shattered. Plastic scattered.

Clarissa swung again. And again. And again.

Each strike brought a dark satisfaction. Each piece of broken plastic felt like a small victory.

This wasn’t just about the robot. This was about erasing Alina. Piece by piece. Memory by memory.

Junior would wake up tomorrow morning and find his beloved robot missing. He would cry. He would search.

And Clarissa would be there to comfort him. To give him a new toy. A better toy. A toy from his real mama.

Slowly, Junior would forget. Forget about Optimus. Forget about all the gifts from Alina. Forget about Alina

herself.

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