Chapter 187: Suspicious instinct.
Leonard.
I deeply, utterly hated the fact that the damn baby had managed to survive the ordeal.
Couldn’t the creature have just conveniently died when presented with such a perfect, seamless opportunity?
It could have so easily passed away right then and there, avoiding the inevitable reality of remaining a constant thorn in my side. But no, against all odds, the wretched thing survived, ensuring it would continue to ruin my mood, complicate our lives, and piss me off to no end.
Yet, putting my intense disgust for the child aside, the glaring issue remained: the doctor still owed us a proper, thorough explanation regarding how he had actually pulled this off.
If he was truly capable of saving both mother and child without any life-threatening complications all along, then why on earth did he bother going on and on about the absolute necessity of signing those consent documents in the first place?
Why put us through that agonizing ordeal if the risk wasn’t absolute?
Something about the entire situation truly did not seem right, and the glaring inconsistency was burning a hole right through my patience.
"Speak up, doctor!" Lurgard commanded, his voice sharp and dripping with dangerous impatience as he towered over the physician.
"It was quite a miracle indeed, Alphas," the doctor offered dismissively, his voice strangely flat and entirely unbothered by the heavy tension suffocating the hallway. "Now, if you will excuse me, I would love to step back inside to check on the patient’s immediate recovery," he added, bowing his head slightly.
And without addressing another single question, completely ignoring both my simmering anger and Lurgard’s explosive rage, he turned around and stepped right back into the operating room, letting the heavy doors swing shut behind him.
I stood rooted to the cold floor, forcing myself to wait outside for a while longer. Before long, the doors swung open once more, and Theresa was carefully pushed out of the surgical room on a mobile bed, escorted by medical personnel as they wheeled her toward a brand-new recovery ward.
We trailed quietly behind the medical team down the long corridors, stepping into the new room the very moment they pushed her bed inside.
The nurses worked methodically, attaching various monitoring devices, fluid lines, and vital-sign readers to her fragile body. I could only stand off to the side, staring down at her motionless form, waiting with a heavy heart for the moment she would finally open her eyes and return to us.
After giving us firm instructions to ensure we kept the room quiet and allowed Theresa to rest without any unnecessary disturbances, the doctor and nurses finally gathered their charts and left the room.
Left with nothing else to do except stand in the heavy silence and watch Theresa as she lay pale and still against the white hospital sheets, a cold, sharp focus took over my mind. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, tapped out a direct text message, and sent it to my contact:
> Pull out every piece of CCTV footage from the very day Theresa arrived at the house. I need to deal with a fool.
The moment the message was successfully delivered, I tucked my phone back into my pocket. I grabbed a small wooden stool from the corner of the room, dragged it over, and sat down right beside Theresa’s bedside.
I reached out, wrapping my fingers around her limp hand, holding it tightly within my own. I gently caressed her soft skin with my thumb, pouring my energy into the small gesture as I tried my best to keep her cold fingers warm against the chill of the hospital room.
"Lawrence, is there something you are hiding from us?" Lurgard suddenly asked, his deep voice cutting sharply through the heavy silence that had settled over the room.
"Hiding what, exactly?" Lawrence shot back without missing a beat.
A dismissive scoff lingered in his expression as he slowly rolled his eyes, the gesture dripping with unconcealed indifference.
His face remained remarkably composed, almost bored, as though the weighty accusation hanging in the air was nothing more than a minor inconvenience unworthy of his concern. There was no urgency in his demeanor, only an air of casual dismissal.
"You know exactly what it is!" Lurgard replied firmly.
His posture visibly stiffened as every muscle in his body tensed. At the same time, his eyes darkened with immediate suspicion, his unwavering gaze fixed squarely on Lawrence as if searching for the truth hidden behind his calm exterior.
Lawrence let out a light, mocking chuckle. "You really seem to have developed a remarkably paranoid, suspicious instinct nowadays, brother," he said calmly, leaning back with an unbothered expression. "It’s no wonder you were standing out in that hallway pressuring that poor, innocent doctor to speak, desperately trying to force words out of his mouth when he was just trying to do his job."
"Stop trying to divert this whole question, Lawrence!" Lurgard barked back, heavy annoyance still deeply laced in every syllable of his tone. "What exactly made you suddenly want Theresa to keep the baby?"
At the blunt question, I immediately raised my brows in intense curiosity as well, shifting my attention from Theresa over to Lawrence.
Indeed, what on earth had made Lawrence have such a sudden, unexpected change of mind?
We had all explicitly agreed back then on what our long-term strategy would be. The plan was clear: we would allow Theresa to keep the baby for now and carry it to full term so she wouldn’t suffer the emotional devastation of an abortion. But the very moment it was born, the newborn would immediately be taken far away from her and secretly swapped with another child.
We were unified on that absolute condition. Anything could be done, and any extreme measures could be taken, as long as Alex’s blood and seed were never permitted to live under our roof.
Yet now, Lawrence was acting completely different about the situation. I looked up at him with deep curiosity burning in my chest, all while keeping my grip firm around Theresa’s hand, silently waiting for his response.