Thanks to Steve's unwavering companionship and his clumsy yet deeply devoted acupuncture and massages, a genuine miracle occurred. By the time Sylvia was nearly nine months pregnant, her emotional state had completely stabilized, and she never suffered another depressive episode.
In the crisp, refreshing autumn breeze of October in the Capital, Sylvia went into labor at the private hospital and smoothly delivered a healthy, chubby baby boy.
The moment the nurse brought the baby out, Ella, who had been waiting anxiously in the corridor, instantly teared up. Her hands trembled with sheer excitement. "Oh, my precious grandson. Let Grandma hold you. This is the future heir of the Michell family."
But before her fingers could even brush the corner of the baby blanket, Steve smoothly lifted the child away.
"Mom, you can look, but do not touch him."
Ella's hands froze in mid-air, her face instantly flashing with profound grievance and absolute disbelief. "Steve... I am the child's own grandmother. What is wrong with wanting to hold my grandson?"
Steve stared her down, refusing to yield a single inch, his tone laced with an unquestionable warning. "You know exactly how you pushed Sylvia into a corner back then. Until Sylvia personally forgives you, it is best you do not appear in front of her or my child and cause her any distress."
Ella's eyes grew red, her lips trembling violently, yet she did not dare utter a single word of protest. Looking at her son's overwhelmingly powerful aura, she finally understood with absolute clarity. This son of hers was no longer the puppet she could manipulate at will. If she dared to throw a tantrum and leverage her status as an elder right now, she might never be allowed to see her grandson's face again for the rest of her life. Wiping her tears in pure defeat, she compromised and stepped quietly to the side.


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