I walked to Lewis’s side.
Only then did I notice Silas lying on the floor near my feet.
Blood soaked through his shirt. His face was swollen beyond recognition. No one had treated him. He looked like sothing discarded after a fight for territory.
Earlier, I had only glanced at him.
Now I allowed myself to really look.
His injuries were worse than before. After the police left, soone must have dragged him into a blind corner and beaten him again. The scent of blood was thick. Heavy.
He lay there barely moving, chest rising so faintly it was almost invisible.
I widened my eyes on purpose.
"Oh my God," I said softly. "Is he dead? He’s covered in blood. That’s terrifying."
"No," Fiona replied lazily, examining her polished nails. "He’s still breathing. Barely."
"How can we just let him lie there?" I insisted. "What if he dies here? We need a doctor."
I would never let him die that easily.
He owed .
He had taken my life once. That debt was still unpaid.
Fiona glanced at with mild interest. "Mrs. Hale, you’re too kind. That’s your rival’s lover. Shouldn’t we just get rid of him?"
Her tone was light, but there was steel underneath. In this world, when soone disgraced the pack, rcy was optional.
"Mrs. Hudson," I said calmly, "no matter what he did with Ms. Morrigan, he’s still a person. Lewis, have soone check on him. We can’t let him die here."
Lewis didn’t question .
"Okay," he said simply.
Theo signaled two n. They lifted Silas and dragged him out.
I caught the faintest breath of relief from Camilla.
Did she really think I was saving him for her sake?
At Hale Hospital, under the excuse of treatnt, Silas would fall into our territory. Once inside, he wouldn’t leave without giving us sothing.
Information. Nas. The shadow behind him.
If we had tried to capture him openly, it would have alerted whoever stood behind him.
But now?
This was perfect.
And in front of everyone, I gained the reputation of rcy.
Fiona gestured for the door to close.
The air in the room shifted. No outsiders. Only the core families.
She looked directly at Lewis.
"Mr. Lewis," she said, voice cool, "our family has been humiliated today. We were played. With the Hales present, tell us how do you intend to handle this?"
Malcom, his eye already bruised purple, shifted uncomfortably.
"Fiona, this isn’t entirely on us," he snapped. "We don’t even know how Camilla got involved with that servant. And let’s not pretend this marriage was genuine. You wanted to stage it to cover the scandal. We had already agreed there would be no real bond. Now you’re pushing all the bla onto my family? That’s not fair."
Bang.
Anthony slamd his hand on the table.
"You still dare speak?" he barked. "You raised a shaless daughter who dragged our pack’s na through the mud. This isn’t over."
Malcom didn’t retreat.
He was a businessman. He could already see what the Hudson family wanted compensation. Territory. Money.
But once a bond collapsed like this, there would be no future alliance.
Why should he bleed resources for nothing?
"Mr. Hudson," Malcom said coldly, "you’ve always called this a staged union. You didn’t even register the marriage officially. And now you’re acting like it was sacred? Fine. We’ll return every wedding gift. Let’s call it even."
"Even?" Anthony’s face turned red. "Now I see where your daughter learned her character. Like father, like daughter."
Malcom’s eyes sharpened.
"And your son?" he countered. "Is he pure? Should I show everyone how your heir spends his nights?"
He threw a stack of photos onto the table.
Yenick, in clubs. Different won. Drinks. Arms around waists.
The scent of tension spiked.
"He’s always surrounded by won," Malcom continued. "They weren’t truly bonded. And you expect my daughter to guard herself like a saint? That’s laughable."
"You’re shaless!" Anthony roared.
"Sa to you," Malcom shot back. "At least my daughter had one affair. Your son has many. The only difference is hers was exposed. If you want, I can make sure the rest co to light."
"I’m not threatening," Malcom added coldly. "I’m negotiating. By tonight, I’ll return every gift. And that’s the end."
Fiona pointed at him, fury burning in her eyes.
"You Morrigans are nothing but thieves. No wonder your family keeps eting misfortune. Rotten bloodline."
That crossed a line.
I saw the flash in Malcom’s eyes.
The Hudson family stord out soon after.
But the air they left behind was thick with sothing unfinished.
The worst part?
Everything the Hudsons had said was true.
And Julian couldn’t deny a single word.
When they finally left, only the Morrigans and Hales remained in the room. The air felt heavy, like after a failed territorial negotiation.
Julian had been silent the entire ti.
Too silent.
Malcom cleared his throat, trying to regain so pride. "The Hudsons have no class. At least we avoided sending Camilla into that pack. We dodged a disaster."
No one responded.
His words fell flat.
Julian moved.
Slow steps. Controlled. But I could feel the shift in him. That low, simring dominance that cos out when an Alpha feels mocked.
He stopped in front of Camilla.
She was sitting on the hospital bed, face swollen, eyes red from crying. She didn’t look graceful anymore. She looked cornered.
Julian looked down at her.
"Who is the father of the child in your womb?"
His voice was sharp. No warmth. No protection.
Camilla’s tears fell harder. "Julian... even you doubt ? Lincy frad . There’s nothing between and that servant."
Julian’s jaw tightened.
"Enough," he snapped. "I don’t care about the kissing. I don’t care about other n. I want one answer. Whose child is it?"
The room went silent.
"Julian," Camilla whispered, reaching for him, "of course it’s yours. That night, we "
"You know how my daughter feels about you," Malcom cut in quickly. "You two grew up together. She’s always been loyal. How can you question her like this?"
Lewis gave a low, cold laugh.
"The video was clear," he said calmly. "She kissed him first. That wasn’t edited."
There was no emotion in his tone.
Just fact.
Malcom tried another angle. "We’ll know if it carries Hale blood when it’s born."
Julian didn’t even blink.
"There’s no need to wait months," he said. "We’ll do an amniocentesis. DNA doesn’t lie."
Malcom stiffened. "Julian, look at her condition. She’s been beaten. You want to put her through that now? After all these years together, can’t you wait? Doctors don’t recomnd that test unless necessary."
Julian’s eyes were cold.
"That’s your concern. Not mine."
Then he turned slightly toward Lewis.
"Uncle Lewis. Your thoughts?"
Lewis glanced at Camilla.
Then at Julian.
His gaze was steady. Calculating.
"Theo," he said calmly, "find a reliable doctor. Bring them here. If she’s stable, we proceed as soon as possible."
"Understood."
Camilla’s breathing beca uneven.
I could sll her fear now. Sharp. Bitter.
A doctor arrived soon after, escorted by guards. The examination was thorough. Professional. Silent.
Julian stood there like a statue.
"Doctor?" he pressed. "Can it be done?"
The doctor removed his mask. "Ms. Morrigan’s condition is stable enough. We can perform the procedure tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Julian’s voice dropped lower. "No. I don’t want to wait. Do it today."
The doctor hesitated only a second. "Understood. I’ll arrange it imdiately."
Camilla broke down completely.
"Julian," she sobbed, "do you really not trust ?"
Julian stepped closer.
He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him.
His voice was cold enough to freeze bone.
"I want to see with my own eyes," he said slowly, "whose bastard you’re carrying."
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