Raising a Wolf in the Henhouse - Part 3

11.

Outside the window, snow had begun to fall. At that moment, the one waiting at home was me.

But unlike Bhuvan’s anxiety, my waiting was filled with joy and anticipation.

I thought, this was only the beginning.

In my previous life, I couldn’t understand the women who spent half their lives seeking revenge. Why did they have to drag themselves into it? Why didn’t they just end it and move forward?

Back then, I found it foolish. Now, I could only laugh at my own naivety.

I had been reborn. I had a beautiful life ahead of me, a flourishing career, and the immense wealth my parents had left behind. But the hatred in my heart never faded.

That hatred turned me into a demon.

That was why I didn’t divorce Bhuvan. I wasn't going to make any “clean break.”

I wanted to stay. To watch them with my own eyes. To lead them with my own hands. And make sure they lived lives far more miserable and wretched than mine had ever been.

12.

After that night, Bhuvan didn't come home for 3 days.

When I called him on the phone, he just said he was in the hospital, and I could hear the faint sound of a woman crying in the background.

My hand tightened unconsciously, and I let out a cold smile.

Was it that woman?

She must have known of Bhuvan's plan and decided to go along with it.

They had put their own child in the hospital, so yes, just keep crying.

On the fourth day, Bhuvan unexpectedly called me and told me to visit the hospital for some matters. He didn’t say much, only emphasizing that it was important.

At the hospital, Bhuvan told me that his sister found an abandoned child who was nearing death. The police couldn’t find the child’s parents, so they had to place the baby temporarily in the hospital.

A nearby nurse nodded, “Honestly, what kind of parents would do something like that? In the freezing cold winter, leaving their child on a deserted road without care. Even if the child survives, how difficult would his life be in the future? I wonder if this child can get through this. After all, the chances of survival are slim,” she said.

“Stop talking!” Bhuvan suddenly snapped at her, his eyes filled with emotion.

A moment later, he seemed to realize his outburst and apologized to the nurse, then turned to me. “Aditi, I have something to tell you.”

He said he wanted to adopt the child.

He said that the results of his health check were in—he was diagnosed with low sperm count, making it very difficult for him to have children in the future, and that maybe this child was a gift from heaven for both him and me.

In the past life, these were almost the same words that he had said to me. I saw his diagnosis and knew he wasn't lying about his condition. That's why I never suspected anything then, and that's also why I knew now that Bhuvan would never let Nikhil go. Nikhil was the only child of him and the woman he loved.

I shivered slightly, feeling the chill of the cold wind.

If they had loved each other so much, why would they drag me into this mess and completely ruin my life?

If life had been this cruel, why would I let go? Why shouldn’t I intervene and completely ruin their lives?

"That's right," my sister-in-law—Bhumi, Bhuvan’s younger sister, who never interfered with this adoption in my previous life—also came to persuade me this time. She said, "You two need to have a child to care for you in old age and handle the funeral arrangements. If my brother likes this child, why not just keep him?"

I watched the sparkle in her eyes as she spoke and suddenly realized that, in the elaborate deception of my previous life, she might have known everything.

Thinking back to the affection and closeness she showed Nikhil in that life, a wave of sorrow and bitter amusement surged in my heart.

In my past life, I was the one who brought Bhumi from a remote rural village into the city. I sent her to school, lent her money to buy a house in advance, and helped her settle down in the city.

But what did I get in return?

A trap where they all treated me like a fool, tricking me and making me spin in circles. Back then, I was like a machine, tirelessly working day and night, dedicating all my time, money, and love, only to be drained dry and discarded like trash.

Was it really because I was just too stupid?

My hand slowly clenched into a fist.

"No," I said.

13.

The expressions on their faces clearly showed that they hadn't expected my outright refusal to taking in the child. I pretended to be indifferent, but inside, I was mocking them. "Even if you wanted to adopt the child, could you afford to raise one like this? Wouldn't it be just another mouth to feed, another burden? He's very likely not going to grow into anything good when he gets older, given his condition right now. It's such a pity but what else could we do when he was unfortunate enough to have trash parents like that. This poor child, we've helped him enough by taking him in the hospital."

I glanced at Bhuvan, watching as he silently clenched his fists, and without a word, smashed a glass onto the floor, causing it to shatter into pieces.

A woman’s sobs came from behind the curtain. Her trembling hands parted the fabric, and she placed a tray onto the floor before stepping back.

It was her. The woman was wearing a clean nurse’s uniform, yet her face was pale, expressionless, a stark contrast to her appearance in my past life.

"Who is she?" I asked, feigning innocence.

Bhumi glanced at her brother and quickly responded, "Sis, that’s... just someone else here to check on the baby."

Hearing her words, I smiled and turned back around, my eyes cold. My tone, however, remained polite and courteous. "To be clear, I won’t agree to raising a disabled child. I won’t adopt someone who isn’t my own. So, no. This child cannot stay."

Hearing my refusal, the woman’s expression faltered. Her fingers trembled slightly, and she hurriedly left the room, glancing once more at the child lying on the bed.

I didn’t know if she had overheard our conversation. I didn’t care.

Nikhil, in my past life, had always been the apple of my eye. He was a prodigy—a natural pianist, fluent in French, always top of his class, admired by teachers and envied by peers.

But Nikhil in this life was just a deaf and mute, possibly retarded child.

His future was destined to be just as miserable as mine was.

Nikhil, this tragic fate, you only have your own flesh and blood parents to blame.

At that moment, I didn't know that the child lying quietly on that hospital bed, eyes wide open in confusion, had been reborn too.

14.

After a long time, Bhuvan gave in to my divorce threats and finally stopped pleading me to take in the child.

Instead Bhumi took Nikhil in. She still named him Nikhil just like in the past life.

I pretended not to interfere with their business, but on the birthday of Bhumi's daughter, I placed the silver bracelet I had originally bought for her onto Nikhil's wrist.

“Kanti, be a good girl. I bought this for your birthday, but now you have a brother and your brother is younger than you, so you need to let him have it, understand?” I smiled and gently coaxed her.

The little girl immediately burst into tears, tugging at my hand angrily. “Why? Why should I? He’s not my brother! He’s a stray! Dad! Kick him out! Don’t let him take my things!”

“Kanti!” Bhumi quickly pulled her daughter into her arms, her face flushing with embarrassment as she scolded her softly. Bhuvan’s expression darkened as he observed the scene. Meanwhile, Bhumi’s husband sighed quietly but still tried to calm things down, saying a few perfunctory words.

Inwardly, I sneered, recalling how, in my past life, Nikhil had always overshadowed Kanti. Back then, Nikhil was the adored older brother, the one she worshiped the most. Yet now, to her, Nikhil was just a stray who had stolen what belonged to her.

In the end, the conversation wrapped up with Bhuvan suggesting they buy Kanti another bracelet to compensate.

Looking at his displeased expression, I smiled faintly, it's not even close to over yet.

15.

When I discovered Nikhil had too been reborn, he had turned four years old.

This time, unlike in the past life, in order to take care of the child, Bhumi had quit her job and became a stay at home mom for nearly four years.

In the past life, she had climbed to the position of deputy manager in the company. Not only did she become increasingly composed, steady, and decisive, but she also firmly rejected her husband’s pleas to have a second child, instead dedicating all her love and care to Kanti.

In this life, however, she became sluggish and overweight after childbirth. While carrying a four-month-old baby, she still had to wake up early to prepare meals, cook, and care for her husband like he was royalty. Meanwhile, her daughter became increasingly bossy, constantly yelling and throwing tantrums, while the adopted son remained bone-thin and quiet.

Bhuvan clearly cared a great deal about his biological child, but he did not care about his younger sister. I had overheard him on more than one occasion secretly calling Bhumi from the office, reprimanding her for failing to discipline her daughter, which led to Kanti frequently throwing fits at home.

“Busy? You’ve already quit your job, haven’t you? The money I send you every month isn't enough for you anymore?” Bhuvan’s tone dripped with arrogance and disdain.

I couldn’t help but find it sarcastically amusing. Bhuvan had always been stingy. Without the "cash cow" of the previous life, he's finding it hard to support his own son while giving his own sister and his son's caretaker a good face.

I curled my lips into a smile.

When I turned back, I saw Nikhil carefully hiding in the kitchen, then quickly placed whatever he was holding down onto the floor before running away.

Standing in the corner, I watched him lower his head and obediently retreat, looking just like a timid little child.

Read: Raising a Wolf in the Henhouse - Part 4