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Chapter Fourteen: Two babies
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2026-10-26 22:14:41
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Done Being a Pushover Mr CEO, Your Wife Is the Richest Woman Chapter Fourteen: Two babies
The hospital lights blurred past in white streaks.Seraphina gripped the gurney rail while a young nurse ran beside her. "Thirty-five weeks? We need a doctor, now!"They wheeled her through the doors of St. Anne's. The corridor smelled of antiseptic and money. Somewhere nearby, a woman was screaming. Vanessa. The delivery rooms stood side by side."Where is the husband?" the nurse asked. "Is anyone here for Mrs. Cole?"Through the thin wall, Seraphina heard Adrian's voice, tender and unsteady. "Vanessa, look at me. Breathe. I'm here."The nurse stepped into the corridor, and her voice came muffled through the door. "Mr. Cole? Your wife is next door. Critical condition. Premature labor, severe bleeding. She needs you."A long pause."My wife is a servant," said Adrian, "and she has staff. Vanessa is in labor with my son. Do what you can for the other one.""Sir, I must insist—""I said, do what you can."Footsteps retreated. A door closed.Seraphina stared at the ceiling. A tear slid s
Done Being a Pushover Mr CEO, Your Wife Is the Richest Woman Chapter Thirteen: The Staircase
The scream came from the kitchen at eleven at night.Seraphina was halfway down the servants' corridor, one hand on the wall and the other under her swollen belly, when she heard it: a crash of pots and then a thin, strangled cry she knew at once.Mrs. Holloway.She ran. Thunder cracked over the roof as it rained heavily, she reached the kitchen door, and what she saw stopped her breath.Julian Park had the old housekeeper pinned against the stove, one hand flat on her chest, the other holding a kitchen knife. Not at her throat. Lazily, almost politely, at her apron string, as though he were about to cut a ribbon."I only want to understand," he was saying pleasantly. "What exactly did you see in the garden, Mrs. Holloway?""Nothing, sir. I swear on my life.""I believe you." He turned the blade so it caught the light. "But a woman who sees nothing should be able to say it without trembling.""Mr. Park."Seraphina's voice came out steadier than she felt. Julian glanced over his should
Done Being a Pushover Mr CEO, Your Wife Is the Richest Woman Chapter Twelve: The Baby Shower
Pink balloons filled the east lawn of the Cole mansion, rising in clusters against the blue sky, and every one of them reminded Seraphina that she was hungry.She had not eaten since dawn. At nine, she had folded two hundred napkins. At eleven, she had arranged twelve vases of white roses. At noon, Margaret had inspected her apron and snapped, "Staff eat after the guests."It was now three in the afternoon, the baby shower had begun, and Seraphina was carrying a silver tray of champagne flutes through a crowd of sixty women in pastel silk."Mind the glasses, dear," Mrs. Whitlock murmured, brushing past. "You look pale.""Thank you, ma'am."At the center of the lawn, beneath a canopy of pink flowers, sat Vanessa on a cushioned throne, her hand resting on her stomach in a pose so practiced it belonged in a magazine. Gifts stacked around her feet like offerings at a shrine. Margaret stood at her shoulder, beaming.And at the edge of the canopy, a glass of whiskey in his hand, stood Julia
Done Being a Pushover Mr CEO, Your Wife Is the Richest Woman Chapter Eleven: The Test
The needle slid into Seraphina's arm, and Margaret's fingers locked around her other wrist like a handcuff. "Hold still," said Dr. Alder, a pale man with careful hands and a nervous cough. "A small pinch, Miss Lane." "Don't speak to her unless you must," Margaret said. "She is here under a borrowed name, and I intend to keep it that way." Dark red filled the glass vial. Seraphina watched it, her stomach turning, thinking: That's my child's whole life in there. Eleven weeks old, and already a case file. On the steel counter lay a sealed plastic bag containing Adrian's silver hairbrush, which Margaret had stolen from his dressing table that morning. Beside it lay a second bag for Vanessa's sample. Two women. One man. One question that would decide everything. "Results in three days," Dr. Alder said. "I'll send them to you directly, Mrs. Cole, as you instructed." Seraphina turned her head toward the frosted window of the lab door. Outside, parked at the curb, was a white convertibl
Done Being a Pushover Mr CEO, Your Wife Is the Richest Woman Chapter Ten: The Price of Silence
Margaret did not tell Adrian.That was the first thing that frightened Seraphina. A mother-in-law who screams for her son is a mother-in-law who can be predicted. A mother-in-law who lowers the phone, ends the call with one calm press of her thumb, and says, "Go to bed, Seraphina. We'll discuss this in the morning," is something else entirely.Seraphina did not sleep. Beneath her mattress, the black phone sat like a coal. Margaret had taken Damien's phone and the key to the guest room, and the lock had clicked on the outside.At six, the key turned again.Margaret's private sitting room smelled of lilies and old money. She sat in a high-backed chair by the window, perfectly dressed, a teacup balanced on her knee. On the table beside her lay Damien's phone, face up, like a trophy."Kneel."Seraphina did not move."Kneel," Margaret repeated gently, "or I walk down the hall and wake my son."Seraphina knelt."Good girl." Margaret sipped her tea. "Do you know what I find most remarkable?
Done Being a Pushover Mr CEO, Your Wife Is the Richest Woman Chapter Nine: The Listener
The door swung open without a knock.Margaret stood in the doorway in a black silk robe, her silver hair pinned for sleep, her eyes glittering in the dark like a cat's. She did not look like a woman who had been woken. She looked like a woman who had been waiting."Who were you talking to?"Seraphina's heart slammed against her ribs. The black phone lay flat beneath the mattress, six inches from her knee. "No one, Mother. I was praying.""Don't lie to me." Margaret stepped inside and closed the door softly behind her. That was worse than if she had slammed it. "I heard a phone buzz in this room. And I heard you.""Heard me say what?"Margaret's lips barely moved. "Whose child are you carrying, Vanessa?"The room went cold.She had said it aloud. In the quiet, in the dark, with the weight of the message pressing on her chest, the question had slipped out of her in a whisper, and the old woman on the other side of the door had caught every syllable."I don't know what you mean."The sla
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