Chapter 5 Comprehensive Surveillance

After seeing Luna off, Emma lay back down on the bed, but her tense nerves couldn't relax at all.

She knew Marcus too well.

He was cold, domineering, and wouldn't allow anyone to question what he said, especially when he already had his suspicions.

The more she thought about it, the more anxious Emma felt. These surprise inspections would probably only increase, not decrease.

Early the next morning, workers came in with their tools.

They installed cameras in every corner of the room.

"What are you doing?! This is my home!"

Emma tried to stop them, but they completely ignored her and continued with their actions.

Evelyn stood by, enjoying the show, and couldn't help but laugh.

"Stop struggling. It's Marcus's orders to fill your room with surveillance cameras; after all, you can't trust a liar."

Emma clenched her fists, her nails digging deep into her palms, causing a numb pain.

She knew that as long as she lived in this cage, she could only endure and let others trample on her.

But she couldn't break with them yet. She had to dispel Evelyn and Marcus's suspicions.

So she had to wait, had to endure.

That night, Emma walked into the bathroom as usual. She had just turned on the hot water, the warm stream pouring over her body, when that familiar wave of nausea suddenly surged up, her throat tightening.

Emma stumbled to the sink, gripping the cold counter as she vomited violently, her stomach churning until there was nothing left to throw up, only stomach acid burning her throat.

After a long while, Emma finally straightened up, supporting herself on the counter, her hand gently pressing her abdomen.

She prayed silently that her child would be safe and healthy.

Suddenly, the bathroom door was violently kicked open.

The huge noise made Emma's whole body shudder.

"What are you doing!" Emma cried out, instinctively backing away, her back hitting the cold wall hard, the chill spreading through her entire body along her spine.

Marcus stood in the doorway, the air pressure around him frighteningly low.

His deep blue eyes were brewing a storm. He stared at Emma's abdomen, his lips curling into a cold, mocking arc.

"What am I doing?" He gritted his teeth, his voice full of towering rage. In a few strides he entered the shower, his large hand suddenly gripping Emma's neck, the pressure instantly tightening. "What are YOU doing? Emma, you've got some nerve!"

"You were just having morning sickness! You're pregnant, aren't you?"

Emma's whole body stiffened, as if struck by lightning, a chill instantly shooting from her feet through her entire body.

She looked around the bathroom in horror, finally spotting a small point of faint red light in the gaps between the wall tiles.

He had even installed cameras in the shower!

This madman!

A complete psycho!

His hand tightened more and more, suffocation closing in.

In just moments, Emma struggled to breathe, her face flushing red, her body shaking uncontrollably, explaining in broken phrases.

"No, I'm not. I'm just not well, my stomach is upset, I'm not pregnant, believe me."

Emma could clearly feel that he was truly angry. Just a little more pressure, and she would really die.

He suddenly released his grip, grabbing Emma's arm and throwing her violently.

Emma crashed heavily to the floor, the pain making her vision go dark.

He turned and roared toward the door, "Get Luna here! Now! Immediately!"

Emma frantically grabbed the blanket to cover herself, but her body kept trembling from fear and pain, her teeth chattering.

This was it, this time it was really over.

She never imagined Marcus would go this far, not giving her even a moment to breathe!

Marcus stood by the bed with his back to Emma, his broad figure radiating an unapproachable coldness, his gaze fixed on the door, the hostility around him almost tangible.

Time passed unbearably slowly, each second torturing Emma's heart.

Fifteen minutes later, the butler rushed in dragging Luna.

She was out of breath, her face pale, clearly brought here by force.

Emma looked at her, her eyes full of pleading, her lips trembling, but unable to say a word.

Luna quickly glanced at Emma, then hastily looked away, bowing respectfully to Marcus. "Mr. Donovan, you wanted to see me?"

Marcus turned around, his gaze sharp as a blade, sitting directly in the chair by the bed, his tone icy.

"Check now. Is she pregnant or not?"

"Yes." Luna responded, not daring to look at Emma again, picking up her stethoscope and walking closer step by step.

Emma closed her eyes in despair, tears silently sliding from the corners of her eyes, soaking the pillow.

This time, no one would help her again.

The device let out a soft beep—the test was finally over.

Luna lowered her head to organize the report.

Emma stared at the paper in Luna's hands, her heart sinking to rock bottom, the last glimmer of light in her eyes extinguished.

Her mind spiraled out of control. If Marcus found out the truth, he would definitely force her to have an abortion.

But this was her child, her only family and hope!

Emma bit her lip hard, not daring to look at him or hear the results. Every second felt like torture.

Finally, Luna's voice reached her ears.

"Mr. Donovan, Emma is not pregnant. It should be the recent weather change—she caught a chill that caused the vomiting."

Emma's head snapped up toward Luna, her nose tingling as tears nearly spilled out.

She never expected Luna would help her again!

Marcus's tightly furrowed brow slowly relaxed. He picked up the report and flipped through it. The room fell silent.

Emma's heart pounded so hard it felt like it would explode. Her palms were drenched in sweat, terrified he wouldn't believe it and would call another doctor to retest.

After what felt like forever, he put down the paper and spoke coldly.

"Got it. Give her a checkup every week from now on and report the results to the butler."

"Yes, Mr. Donovan." Luna clutched the documents and quickly left, as if something terrifying lurked in the room.

Everyone had left. Only Emma and Marcus remained.

The breath Emma had just released caught in her throat again. Her whole body tensed up, not knowing what he would do next or if he would lose it again.

After a long silence, the harsh sound of a chair scraping against the floor broke through.

He walked toward the bed, bringing with him the distinct scent of cedarwood that filled Emma's nose.

He stopped beside the bed, his voice cold as ice, devoid of any warmth.

"Without my permission, you'll never leave."

Emma looked up at him. After the initial shock, all the grievance, fear, despair, and physical pain she'd been holding back came flooding out. Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.

"Why? Marcus, this is surveillance! You're imprisoning me! I'm not some pet you can keep locked up!"

Facing Emma's accusations, he just watched calmly, his eyes showing no emotion whatsoever. He said nothing.

After her outburst, Emma's throat burned with pain. The sense of grievance crashed over her like a tidal wave, but with no other option, she could only continue pleading with trembling lips.

"Please let me go, okay? I promise I'll never appear in front of you again. I'm begging you."

Emma looked at him, desperately hoping he would give her an answer.

Did he love her or not?

If not, then set her free and let her leave.

If he did, why did he keep pushing her into hell over and over? He didn't care about her feelings at all.

But from start to finish, he maintained that same cold, almost indifferent expression.

Whether she cried or begged, nothing could stir even the slightest emotion in him.