He Lost His Mind When He Broke My Rules Chapter 02
I didn’t notice when Dylan had come home with Chloe Moore.
He stood in the garden, pointed at his servant indifferently, and uprooted the layers of roses I’d planted with my own hands.
“Stop!” I trembled, staring at the wreckage. “Dylan, what are you doing?”
Before Dylan could speak, Chloe clung to his arm softly and explained:
“Clara, don’t you get it yet? Before, Dylan loved you, so he put up with your endless rules.”
“But now he doesn’t love you anymore. This house is his. From now on, he makes the rules.”
Dylan stroked her head tenderly and said flatly:
“Chloe is allergic to pollen. Rule number one: no more flowers in this garden.”
He gestured for the staff to keep going.
His eyes signalled the maid to continue.
With his order, the flower stand was pushed down fiercely, and the broken wooden board splashed with the branches and fallen leaves.
Servants wheeled out a lawnmower, ready to scrape away the small flower bed completely.
I threw myself in front of it. “Don’t touch any of this!”
The lawnmower was inches from me when Dylan grabbed me back in a panic.
His face twisted with suppressed rage. “Clara, are you insane? Do you want to die?”
I looked at the small pile of dirt that had been turned over and choked up.
“You know these roses were from my mom’s seeds. I raised them with so much care.”
“And… buried under there is our baby.”
Guilt and shame flickered across Dylan’s face—but when I mentioned the baby, his expression turned savage.
His hand clamped around my throat, cutting off my breath.
“How dare you bring up our child? If it weren’t for your stupid rules, he’d still be alive!”
I stared into his bloodshot eyes and was suddenly pulled back to that night four months ago.
I’d slipped and fallen down the stairs.
Agony shot through my stomach, and blood soaked my skirt.
Dylan panicked like never before, lifting me to rush to the hospital.
But I clung to the doorframe, refusing to let him step outside.
That day, I’d seen his death clearly—if he drove out, he would die in a car crash.
I chose the only way that kept him alive.
We waited until midnight. Dylan was safe… but our baby’s heart had stopped beating forever.
That night, he’d stared at me with red eyes and punched the wall until his knuckles bled, voice broken:
“For your ridiculous rules and stupid superstitions, you gave up our child?”
“Clara, you’re cruel.”
The memory ended. Dylan suddenly let go, and I collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.
He had nowhere to put his rage, so he slammed his fist into the door.
In the silence, a servant carried out the white porcelain urn holding our baby’s ashes.
The servant hesitated, looking at Dylan. “Mr. Sterling… what should I do with this?”
Dylan’s face darkened. The last bit of mercy in him won out over his anger.
He closed his eyes, voice hoarse.
“Take it to the cemetery.”
Just as the servant turned to leave, Chloe stepped in front of him.
She tilted her head, pretending to be innocent.
“Dylan… is that baby really yours?”