Chapter 4
Marlowe's POV
"Call the enforcers," I force the words out. "I want to see the Pack Enforcers. Now."
Delta Fenrir is tall, broad-shouldered, with a face carved out of stone.
He walks into my room with two armed enforcers flanking him, his eyes sweeping over everyone in the room.
"Mrs. Marlowe filed a report claiming her newborn pup was illegally removed. Mr. Roberts, Mr. Adams, I need an explanation." Fenrir's voice comes out cold as ice.
"Delta Fenrir, this whole thing is a tragedy." Warren lets out a sigh, looking like he's aged ten years in an instant.
He hands over a thick stack of documents. "This is Marlowe's complete medical history. Six months ago, doctors found a rare, massive teratoma in her abdomen. The tumor put pressure on her endocrine system and triggered a severe case of phantom pregnancy."
"She was completely convinced she was pregnant. She even started lactating and having what she thought were contractions."
Fenrir flips through the file, his brow furrowing.
"We tried to tell her the truth, but every time, she'd lose it completely. There were even times we worried she'd hurt herself." Beckett sits at the edge of my bed, gripping my hand tight, tears sliding down his handsome face.
"To keep her calm, we just went along with it. Last night, the risk of the tumor rupturing got too high, so we had no choice but to trick her into coming in under the pretense of labor so we could remove it. Delta, you can pull the OR footage from last night yourself. What came out of her was a ten-pound tumor."
"That's right, Delta." Dr. Green chimes in right on cue. "The tumor's still sitting in pathology. You're welcome to run tests on it whenever you'd like."
I watch this performance of theirs, cold and unmoved.
Flawless. They even got the surgery footage and a physical specimen ready to go. The Roberts family's reach really can cover up anything.
"Marlowe, that's enough. The enforcers have real work to do." Rosalind's eyes well up as she gently strokes my hair. "Mom knows you want a baby. Once you're back on your feet, you and Beckett can try again, okay?"
"Marlowe..."
The door opens again. A woman walks in wearing a white cashmere coat, pale, looking like she'd fall over if someone breathed on her too hard.
Vivienne. The fake heiress who took over my whole life for twenty years, the one this entire family put on a pedestal.
Vivienne comes to the side of my bed, tears streaming down her face. "Marlowe, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn't lost my uterus from that illness when I was little, you never would've felt like you had to push yourself this hard just to make me feel better. Marlowe, please, wake up. You're not well."
She's crying as she reaches for my hand.
The second she gets close, my nose catches something. Something faint, but unmistakable.
That scent, the one only a newborn pup has, milk mixed with a hint of blood.
It's coming off the cuff of her coat.
Everything clicks into place at once, like lightning splitting my head open.
I watch the tiny flicker of satisfaction hidden in Vivienne's eyes. I watch the way Rosalind instinctively shifts to shield her. I watch the flash of tenderness that crosses Beckett's face the second he looks at her.
And just like that, I finally understand why they all turned on me the moment the surgery was over, why they all insisted I was never pregnant at all.
So this is what's really going on.
"Mrs. Marlowe?" Fenrir closes the file and looks at me. "Based on what I'm seeing, you were never pregnant. If you keep pushing this, we're going to have to run a psychiatric evaluation on you."
"Fine, evaluate me. I'm not crazy!"
Last time, this is exactly where I lost it completely, where I lunged at Vivienne like some madwoman and sealed my own fate as the lunatic they all said I was.
But this time, I don't move.
I slowly pull my hand out of Beckett's grip, and every trace of hysteria drains off my face.
I lean back against the pillow and let out a cold laugh.
"Delta Fenrir. Before you have me evaluated, how about I tell you a story first?"
