The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife novel Chapter 98

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Locked Doors

Mrs. Helen stepped out of the room, her face still wet with tears but her posture resolute.

Mr. Harris stood in the corridor exactly where he’d been for the past hour, hands clasped in front of him, expression professionally blank.

“Mr. Harris,” Mrs. Helen began, keeping her voice steady despite the tremor underneath. “Mrs. Blackwood needs to go to the hospital. Young Master Junior-”

“I know about Young Master Junior,” Mr. Harris interrupted quietly. “Mr. Blackwood called a few minutes ago with specific instructions.”

Mrs. Helen’s stomach dropped.

“What instructions?”

“Mrs. Blackwood is not to leave the mansion under any circumstances. Not tonight. Not without Mr. Blackwood’s direct authorization.” He paused, something uncomfortable flickering across his features. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Helen. Those are my orders.”

“But she’s his mother,” Mrs. Helen protested, voice rising slightly. “She has every right to see him when he’s hurt

“My orders come from his father.” Mr. Harris corrected. Not cruelly. Just factually. “I can’t override that.”

Mrs. Helen took a step forward. “Mr. Harris, please. You have children of your own. You know what it feels like to be kept from them when they’re hurting. Mrs. Blackwood has cared for that boy every single day for five years. She deserves to meet Mr. Junior.”

“What she deserves and what I’m authorized to allow are two different things.” His voice remained firm. “I’m sorry. The answer is no.”

He shifted his weight slightly, and Mrs. Helen saw two more guards appear at the end of the corridor. Reinforcements.

This wasn’t just a refusal.

This was a lockdown.

“Mrs. Helen,” Mr. Harris continued, his tone gentler now, “Mr. Blackwood also instructed that you’re to maintain distance from Mrs. Blackwood for the time being. He believes your,.. proximity is enabling behavior that isn’t helpful for anyone involved.”

The words hit like a slap,

“You’re removing me from her?” Mrs. Helen’s voice shook with anger now. ““After everything that happened, you want to keep me away from Mrs. Alina?”

“Not removing. Reassigning. You’ll continue your regular duties, but interaction with Mrs. Blackwood will be limited to meal delivery only. No conversations beyond what’s necessary.”

Mrs. Helen stared at him. At this man she’d worked alongside for years. Who had daughters he spoke about with such tenderness. Who had once told her he admired how she cared for the household.

“How can you do this?” she asked quietly.

“Because it’s my job,” he said. But he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Please return to the kitchen, Mrs. Helen. I’ll

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ensure Mrs. Blackwood is informed of the situation.”

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Mrs. Helen wanted to argue. Wanted to push past him, to tell Alina herself that she’d tried, that she hadn’t abandoned her.

But the two additional guards had moved closer. And she knew resistance would accomplish nothing except getting herself removed from the household entirely.

At least if she stayed, she could still help. Even if only in small ways.

She nodded once, stiffly, and turned toward the stairs.

Behind her, she heard Mr. Harris’s footsteps approach Alina’s door.

Heard the lock engage with a decisive click.

***

Inside the room, Alina heard it too.

The lock.

The finality of it.

She stood frozen for a moment, processing what had just happened.

Then she moved.

Ran to the door. Grabbed the handle. Pulled.

Locked.

She pounded on the wood with both fists.

“Let me out! Mr. Harris, let me OUT!”

No response.

She hit harder, ignoring the pain in her injured hand as the bandage compressed against the wood.

“I have to see Junior! You can’t keep me here! I have to see Junior”

“Mrs. Blackwood.” Mr. Harris’s voice came through the door, muffled but clear. “Please calm down. This is Mr. Blackwood’s orders.”

“I DON’T CARE ABOUT HIS ORDERS!” Alina screamed. All the grief and fear and rage that had been building for weeks erupted. “That’s MY SON in the hospital! He’s SCARED and ALONE and he doesn’t REMEMBER ME and you’re keeping me LOCKED IN HERE like a PRISONER!”

Silence from the other side.

“Mr. Harris, please,” Alina’s voice broke. “Please just let me see him. I won’t make trouble. I’ll be quiet. I just need to see that he’s okay. Please.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I have my orders.”

Footsteps retreated down the corridor.

Alina slid down the door until she was sitting on the floor, back against the wood, hands still trembling.

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The tears came again. Harder this time. Wracking sobs that tore through her chest.

“Daniel, you bastard,” she whispered into the empty room. “You cruel, heartless bastard.”

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She thought about Junior lying in that hospital bed, confused, asking for someone he couldn’t remember. She thought about Clarissa sitting beside him, playing the concerned mother while Alina was locked away like she didn’t matter.

“I hate you, Daniel!” she said to the walls, to the ceiling, to wherever Daniel was. “I hate you so much.”

But underneath the hate was something worse.

Helplessness.

Complete and total helplessness.

She couldn’t get to Junior. Couldn’t comfort him. Couldn’t even tell him she was thinking about him.

She was trapped.

And Junior was forgetting her.

At the hospital, Daniel stood outside Junior’s room, phone still in his hand from the call he’d made to Mr. Harris a few minutes earlier.

He’d known Mrs. Helen would tell Alina. Had anticipated the reaction. Had given orders accordingly.

Orders that made him feel sick even as he delivered them.

But what choice did he have?

If Alina came to the hospital now–emotional, desperate, demanding to see Junior–it would create chaos. Junior was fragile. Confused. He needed stability, not more stress.

That’s what Daniel told himself. What he kept repeating in his head.

But there was another reason. One he didn’t want to examine too closely.

If Junior saw Alina and didn’t recognize her, didn’t remember her, didn’t show any connection to the woman who’d raised him-

It would break her.

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