Anna’s POV
I stared at Marcus’s latest ssage on my phone: "Okay."
Just that. One word where normally he’d send paragraphs, asking about my comfort, the twins movents, or detailed instructions for my dical team. The brevity felt wrong, like a jarring note in our carefully established rhythm of communication.
I’d sent him my latest prenatal results just an hour ago. His initial response had been slightly more forthcoming:
"Looks like the babies are getting impatient. I’m wrapping up my work here and will be back soon." When I’d responded with reassurance that he should focus on work, this strange, abbreviated "Okay" arrived.
_Sothing’s not right._
Massaging my aching temples, I set the phone aside. The swelling in my legs had worsened over the past few days. making walking increasingly difficult.
The doctors had also noted my occasional breathing difficulties, recomnding supplental oxygen to ensure the twins weren’t deprived.
Yet that single word bothered more than my physical discomfort. I eased myself into the wheelchair beside my bed, determined to get downstairs for so fresh air.
The elevator doors slid open to reveal Mary Simpson and Lucy Taylor engaged in what appeared to be a heated argunt in the hospital lobby.
Mary’s expression transford into malicious delight when she spotted . Clayton and Rachel imdiately positioned themselves protectively in front of my wheelchair.
"Not even married into the Murphy family yet and already acting like royalty," Mary sneered, her eves traveling to my enormous belly.
I t her gaze coolly. "Married or not, this is who I am. Do you have a problem with that, Mrs. Simpson?" The emphasis on her married na was deliberate—a reminder that she was no longer a Murphy, regardless of her birth.
Lucy clutched Mary’s arm desperately.
"Mother-in-law, we should leave. Jack will be upset if he finds out you ca here."
Mary shook her off like an annoying insect. "Mind your own business. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re really after."
"Please," Lucy pleaded, her voice tinged with genuine fear. "I’m only thinking of your best interests. Don’t do anything rash."
Their strange dynamic held no interest for . I signaled Rachel to wheel away, eager to escape this unpleasant encounter.
’Anna, you’re due soon, aren’t you?
How are you feeling?" Mary called after , false concern dripping from every syllable.
"Don’t stop, let’s go," I instructed Rachel, refusing to engage.
Mary’s voice followed like poison.
"You’re comfortably waiting for your delivery while poor Marcus is fighting for his life."
An icy chill washed over , as though soone had doused with freezing water. My heart stuttered to a halt before resuming at double speed.
I motioned Rachel to turn my wheelchair around, struggling to maintain my composure. "What did you say?"
Lucy stepped forward nervously.
"Anna, you should go. It’s nothing."
I ignored her, my gaze fixed on Mary.
"What about Marcus?"
Mary glanced at my prominent belly, her eyes gleaming with malice.
"Marcus Murphy is dead."
The words hit like a physical blow.
My mind buzzed with shock, unable to process what I’d just heard. Fear flooded through as blood drained from my face. My heart raced violently while my body turned ice cold, as though my soul had fled, leaving behind only a hollow shell.
"Boss, don’t listen to her nonsense," Rachel quickly interjected. "Mr. Murphy is fine. Don’t you speak with him daily?"
Her words penetrated the fog of panic.
Yes, I spoke with Marcus every day.
Mary must be lying, trying to provoke when I was most vulnerable.
With trembling fingers, I reached for my phone to call Marcus. Then a terrifying thought crossed my mind-if sothing truly had happened to him, who had been communicating with these past days?
I imdiately hung up and switched to requesting a video call instead. Each unanswered ring was torture, my heartbeat accelerating with every second of silence. My fingertips turned ice-cold while my back broke out in cold sweat.
_Marcus, please answer the phone..._
Mary’s POV
Lucy tugged desperately at my sleeve.
"Mrs. Simpson, we should leave now."
I shot her a withering glare.
_Interfering little pest._ What did this social climber understand about family legacy? About what was at stake?
’Those twins you’re carrying," I said, my voice dropping to an icy whisper as I gestured toward Anna’s swollen belly. "They’re Murphy blood. When they’re born, they belong with the Murphy family."
My eyes narrowed, studying her stomach with distaste. For all we knew, those babies weren’t even Marcus’s. They could be anyone’s bastards. But if there was even a chance they carried Murphy DNA, I wouldn’t let them remain with this nobody.
Anna’s frightened expression hardened into sothing colder, more controlled.
"By what authority do you claim my children?"
"By what authority?" I laughed, the sound sharp and brittle in the antiseptic-scented hallway. "As a Murphy family mber, of course."
"Murphy family mber?" Anna’s voice dripped with disdain. "William Murphy is still very much alive. You have no say whatsoever."
Her words struck like a slap. _How dare this outsider question my birthright?_ My hands trembled with rage as I opened my mouth to put her in her place, but suddenly Clayton stepped between us, his broad shoulders forming an impenetrable wall.
"Get out of my way," I snapped, fury bubbling up my throat like acid.
Clayton’s face remained impassive, but his eyes held a dangerous glint. "I was assigned to Ms. Shaw by Marcus himself. His instructions were clear-anyone who threatens her wellbeing gets dealt with physically. Mrs. Simpson, you wouldn’t want to be publicly subdued in this hospital, would you?"
"You wouldn’t dare!" The threat from a re employee sent a jolt of fear through , quickly masked by outrage. My chest tightened painfully as Clayton raised his fist slightly-just enough to make his point.
Lucy appeared at my side, her voice honey-sweet but urgent. "Mrs. Simpson, we’ll be late for your dical appointnt. We should go now."
I seized the excuse gratefully, though my pride stung like an open wound.
As we walked toward the elevator, 1 couldn’t resist firing one last shot over my shoulder.
"I’ll be spending more ti at Murphy Estate from now on. Ascend Group is far too valuable to let Phillip handle alone. I am Marcus’s sister, after all. I deserve my share."
"Mrs. Simpson," Lucy murmured, her face pinched with concern, "perhaps you should discuss this with Jack first."
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