Chapter 2

Sabine's POV

"Mom is right," Ronan looked down at me. "I already canceled the nanny. You don't work anyway, you can raise Sorrel yourself. The Haverford family's money doesn't grow on trees; we're not paying an outsider."

I nodded calmly.

Clearly satisfied by my submissiveness, he tossed the phone onto my bed and signaled for Coralie and Ophelia to step outside for a smoke.

The second the door clicked shut, I grabbed my phone, opened my contacts, and fired off texts to my parents, my best friend Marcella, and the nanny who had just been fired.

Done. I collapsed back onto the pillows, drained.

The neighboring curtain peaked open. Cosima looked at me, her eyes full of pity.

I pulled the blanket up. Now wasn't the time to tear their faces off. I was alone, weak, and if I pissed them off now, they'd take my phone and cut off my only way out.

Endure.

At dusk, Dr. Hawley walked in holding a clipboard. Ronan and his family followed closely behind with takeout.

"Mrs. Haverford, your vitals are stabilizing," Hawley said, glancing at Ronan. "Also, considering your husband's family history of blood clotting issues, we ran a comprehensive blood screening on the newborn. The child is perfectly healthy."

"A blood test?" Coralie shrieked. "Who authorized extra tests? How much is that going to cost?!"

She sprinted over, ripping the lab results from his hands. Her eyes scanned the page, and she froze.

The room went dead silent. Seconds later, her head snapped up, her eyes bulging.

"Type B? It says the baby is Type B?!" She slammed the paper onto my bed. "Ronan is Type O! You're Type O! How the hell do two Type O parents make a Type B baby?!"

She pointed a shaking finger at Hawley's nose. "You swapped the babies! This is malpractice! I'm calling my lawyer!"

The screaming terrified Sorrel, who erupted into wails. People in the hallway began peeking in.

Dr. Hawley's face darkened. "Ma'am, watch your words. St. Verrine's maternity protocols are strict. A baby swap is impossible. This is not our hospital's error."

Coralie whipped around, glaring at me like a demon.

"You cheap whore!" Spit flew onto my face. "I knew it! Ronan flies around the world working his ass off, and you're in the villa he bought, spreading your legs for another man! And you dare make the Haverfords raise your bastard?!"

She grabbed Ronan's arm. "Discharge her! Take her home. I'm going to teach this shameless slut a lesson!"

Ronan's face went purple. Surrounded by stares of shock and pity, he lunged at my bed, raising his hand high—

The slap never landed.

Cosima's husband, Kael, violently grabbed Ronan's wrist and shoved him back.

"What kind of man are you?" Kael sneered. "Your wife just came back from the dead, and your first instinct is to hit her? If you've got so much energy, go get a paternity test instead of traumatizing a maternity ward."

Ronan yanked his arm back, his chest heaving, staring at Kael like an enemy.

I looked at Cosima. She was surrounded by her family—someone cutting fruit, someone rubbing her legs, treating her like royalty. Meanwhile, I was lying here bleeding out, having garbage dumped on me by these monsters.

Five years. Eight months pregnant, I stood in the kitchen cooking Thanksgiving dinner because Coralie "didn't like restaurant food." I waited alone for every ultrasound while Ronan and his whole family rushed Ophelia to the ER for a mild cold. I hadn't bought a dress over $200 in five years, while the designer bag Ronan casually gifted Ophelia could pay a nanny's salary for three months.

I steadied my trembling body and met his furious gaze.

"You want to teach me a lesson? Fine. Let's see the evidence." My voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the room. "Ronan, have you ever actually seen your own blood report? Or did you just believe Coralie when she told you it was Type O?"

Cosima chimed in from the next bed. "Yeah, buddy. Stop listening to your mommy. If you're so suspicious of your wife, just draw a vial of your own blood. Simple."

The door slammed open again.

Darius, my father-in-law, walked in with a face like thunder. He had clearly heard everything from the hallway.

"Enough! Haven't you embarrassed us enough? The Haverfords don't become a public joke. Ronan, call the nurse. Draw the blood. We'll settle this right now."

"No!"

Coralie, who had been screaming a moment ago, suddenly turned ghost-white. She threw herself in front of Ronan, panicked. "Absolutely not! Ronan has a business trip in two days! He doesn't have time to wait for lab results!"

I let out a cold laugh.

"Coralie, drawing blood takes one minute." I locked eyes with her, speaking slowly. "Are you really worried about his schedule, or are you terrified of what that test might reveal?"

Before she could breathe, I raised my voice:

"If you don't trust me, let's settle it once and for all. We're not just doing a blood test—we are doing a DNA paternity test."