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CHAPTER 37

Author: Sunkissed
last update publish date: 2026-07-23 09:31:46

JASON’S POV

I sat in that hospital room long after Chloe’s fury had finally burned itself down to sullen, simmering silence, after my grandmother’s admission had settled over the room like something too heavy to fully process all at once, and tried to make sense of exactly how thoroughly I’d allowed myself to be managed by nearly everyone in it.

Ella’s name wasn’t Chloe. I’d known that for days now, had heard it confirmed by Sherwood, by Ella herself, by the physician’s diagnosis I’d overheard
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  • FAT, BARREN, AND REJECTED   CHAPTER 112

    JASON’S POVI hated every moment of the formal genetic testing process, understanding intellectually the political necessity while simultaneously chafing against the sheer indignity of having to legally prove something I already knew, with absolute certainty, to be true.“This shouldn’t be necessary,” I said, watching the medical technician carefully collect samples from each of our four children, my jaw tight with barely controlled frustration despite my understanding of the legal requirement. “We already have documentation establishing the hotel night, the timeline, everything relevant to their legitimate parentage.”“I understand your frustration, Alpha,” our legal counsel said carefully, observing the collection process alongside us. “But Cross has structured this challenge specifically to require scientific verification regardless of documentary evidence. Complying fully and transparently actually serves our interests best, providing incontrovertible proof that definitively ends

  • FAT, BARREN, AND REJECTED   CHAPTER 111

    ELLA’S POVI insisted on participating in our response to Cross’s public challenge, understanding despite my continued physical recovery that this particular battle required my direct voice alongside Jason’s, given how personally it targeted my own children’s legitimate standing.“I know you’re still recovering,” Jason said carefully, watching me prepare for the press statement our legal team had arranged, “but I understand why you feel this requires your direct participation.”“These are my children being publicly questioned,” I said, my voice carrying fierce, unwavering determination despite my continued exhaustion. “I refuse to simply remain silent while Cross’s calculated manipulation attempts to cast doubt on their legitimate place in this family.”We arranged the press conference for the following morning, considerably more controlled and secure than my previous public appearance had managed, though the underlying stakes felt, if anything, considerably higher given how directly

  • FAT, BARREN, AND REJECTED   CHAPTER 110

    JASON’S POVThe interrogation with Miriam proved considerably more emotionally complicated than our previous encounters with Cross’s operatives, her genuine tears and evident anguish over her own betrayal carrying a rawness that made maintaining professional detachment considerably more difficult than I’d anticipated.“I never wanted to hurt them,” she said, her voice breaking with obvious, genuine distress. “I love those children, Alpha. Whatever I’ve done, please understand that my affection for them was never false, whatever else I’ve been forced into by circumstances I couldn’t otherwise manage.”“Explain your circumstances,” I said, keeping my voice carefully controlled despite my own continued fury at her betrayal, understanding that genuine information mattered more right now than simply venting my anger at her regardless of however justified that anger actually felt.She described a devastating tale of medical debt, a grandson diagnosed with a rare, expensive condition that he

  • FAT, BARREN, AND REJECTED   CHAPTER 109

    ELLA’S POVI found myself, over the following days, unable to fully shake the fresh, corrosive paranoia that Jason’s interrogation had inspired, studying every staff member’s face with careful, suspicious attention despite my genuine desire to simply focus on recovering and bonding with our newly arrived children.“You seem distracted,” Jason observed one afternoon, watching me carefully as I fed our eldest daughter, my attention clearly divided between the precious bonding moment and my continued, anxious scanning of the room’s other occupants.“I keep wondering who it actually is,” I admitted, my voice carrying genuine, exhausting anxiety despite my efforts to remain focused on our daughter’s needs. “Someone in this household, someone we’ve likely trusted, potentially for months, providing Cross with exactly the information that nearly cost us everything. I can’t stop looking at everyone and wondering.”“I understand,” Jason said gently, though I could see his own continued vigilanc

  • FAT, BARREN, AND REJECTED   CHAPTER 108

    JASON’S POVI interrogated the captured operative myself, understanding all too well from our previous experience exactly how quickly crucial information could be silenced if I relied entirely on standard procedure rather than direct, personal involvement.“Full security detail on this room,” I instructed my guards before beginning, my voice carrying absolute, unwavering authority. “No one enters without my direct authorization, and I want continuous monitoring against exactly the kind of silencing tactic Cross’s people already demonstrated once before.”The man sat restrained across from me, his earlier composed professionalism visibly cracking under the weight of capture and whatever consequences he clearly understood awaited him now that his infiltration attempt had failed.“You already know I’m not going to simply volunteer information easily,” he said, though his voice carried considerably less confidence than his predecessor’s calm certainty during our earlier interrogation.“I

  • FAT, BARREN, AND REJECTED   CHAPTER 107

    ELLA’S POVI forced myself upright the moment Jason left, ignoring my body’s obvious protest against the sudden movement, understanding with absolute, fierce certainty that I couldn’t simply lie passively in this recovery room while whatever threat currently endangered my children unfolded elsewhere in the building.A nurse attempted to intervene as I swung my legs carefully over the bed’s edge, her expression carrying immediate professional concern. “You need to remain resting, Ella. Your body has just undergone considerable trauma from the delivery.”“I understand the medical concern,” I said, my voice carrying more steadiness than my continued physical exhaustion should have allowed, “but I’m not staying here while my children are potentially in danger. I need to be with them, or at least close enough to understand what’s actually happening.”“Let me at least get you a wheelchair,” the nurse said, apparently recognizing the futility of further direct objection given my evident dete

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