Chapter 102 Where did these photos come from?
Ethan’s POV
The call came just after noon.
I was in the middle of reviewing contracts when my phone lit up with the house staff’s number. My stomach dropped before I even answered—they never called unless something was wrong.
"Alpha Holt, it’s your grandmother. She collapsed this morning. We’ve taken her to Memorial Hospital."
Fuck.
I was out the door in seconds, barely remembering to grab my jacket. The drive to the hospital felt endless, my mind racing through worst-case scenarios.
Grandmother was the spine of this family. Without her...
No. I wouldn’t think like that.
The hospital parking lot was already crowded with familiar cars when I arrived. Mom’s Mercedes. Sophie’s compact sedan. Even the staff had brought Marcus in the pack SUV.
I found them clustered outside a private room on the fourth floor.
Mom pacing like a caged wolf, Sophie wringing her hands, and Marcus pressed against one of the maids, looking small and frightened.
"What happened?" I demanded.
Mom’s head snapped up, her expression tight with barely controlled panic.
"The staff said she got a phone call this morning. She started screaming—calling someone a ’bastard’—then she just... collapsed."
My blood ran cold. A phone call. Screaming.
What the hell had she found out?
Before I could process further, a doctor emerged from the room. We all converged on him immediately.
"Luna Holt is stable," he assured us. "She’s awake and alert. But I need to stress—her heart condition is serious, and her blood pressure was dangerously elevated.
She absolutely cannot have stress like this again. You need to be more careful about what upsets her."
The words landed like accusations. Mom and I exchanged a loaded glance.
What had she learned?
As soon as the doctor left, Mom rounded on the nearest staff member—a young omega who looked ready to bolt.
"Did you say something to her?" Mom’s voice was low and deadly. "I gave explicit orders that no one was to mention Clara staying at the house. No one. Did you forget?"
"No, ma’am! I swear, I didn’t say anything!" The girl’s voice trembled. "None of us did!"
"Daddy!"
Marcus’s voice cut through the tension. He’d broken free from the maid and was running toward me, tears streaming down his face.
"Why did you make Aunt Clara leave?" he wailed, grabbing onto my leg. "I want her back! I want my mo—"
I clamped my hand over his shoulder, probably harder than I should have. "Shut up. Now."
But the damage was done.
Mom had gone pale, her gaze darting to the hospital room door. Sophie looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.
Before anyone could say anything else, a young nurse poked her head out. "Luna Holt is asking to see family. But please—keep it calm. No arguing, no stress."
Mom and I exchanged another look—this one full of dread and determination. We had to get our story straight, and fast.
Sophie took Marcus’s hand, pulling him back. "Come on, sweetie. Let’s go find the cafeteria."
"But I want to see Great-Grandma—"
"Not now." Sophie’s voice was firm despite the wobble in it.
Mom and I stepped into the room together.
Grandmother looked small in the hospital bed—smaller than I’d ever seen her. Her silver hair was mussed, her face pale, but her eyes... her eyes were sharp as ever, blazing with fury.
Standing beside her bed was Wilson, her long-time bodyguard and assistant. He gave us a barely perceptible nod before slipping out at her gesture.
"Mom..." My mother’s voice was overly sweet, carefully modulated. "What happened? What got you so upset?"
Grandmother didn’t answer. Instead, she grabbed something from the bedside table and hurled it at me.
I caught it on instinct—a manila envelope, heavy with photographs.
My heart stopped.
"Open it," Grandmother ordered, her voice weak but brooking no argument.
My hands felt numb as I pulled out the contents. Photographs. Recent ones, based on the timestamps.
Clara and me getting into my car together.
Clara and me entering the hospital, my hand at the small of her back.
Clara and me leaving, our shoulders brushing.
"How could you?" Grandmother’s voice cracked. "After everything... after I explicitly told you to stay away from that woman..."
Before she could continue, Mom snatched the photos from my hands.
"Ethan, you idiot!" The words burst out of her before she could stop them. She whirled on me, and her hand connected with my cheek in a stinging slap.
I took it without flinching. I deserved it.
But where did these photos come from?
I was about to ask when—