Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Lyndsey’s POV

Harrison and Estelle had been divorced for months, yet he had never stopped looking for her, and he had never once touched me.

I smoothed my skirt for the third time as we sat in the consultation room, trying not to look as nervous as I felt. Harrison’s mother, Claire, sat beside me.

“You understand what’s required, don’t you?” Claire asked quietly, looking at me instead of the doctor who was reviewing my charts. “To become Harrison’s wife, you need to prove you’re capable. A family like ours needs heirs.”

I nodded quickly. “Of course, Mrs. Emerson. I understand completely.”

The doctor cleared his throat awkwardly and glanced between us. “Well, about that…” He slid the test results across his desk toward Claire, not me. “Miss Donovan’s BMI is concerning. At her current weight, conception would be extremely difficult. The body simply doesn’t have enough reserves to support a healthy pregnancy.”

My face burned hot and I looked down at my hands. I’d worked so hard to maintain this figure, knowing Harrison preferred slender women. Estelle had been curvy, soft, and he’d clearly gotten tired of that.

“How difficult?” Claire asked sharply.

“Without significant weight gain and hormonal intervention, I’d say the chances are quite low,” the doctor admitted.

The room went silent. I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood, waiting for Claire to tell me I wasn’t suitable after all, that I’d failed before we’d even begun.

Instead, she reached over and patted my hand.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she said warmly, and I looked up in surprise. “These things can be managed. We’ll get you the best specialists, the best care. You’re exactly what Harrison needs—someone from a good family who understands our world.”

Relief made me dizzy. “Thank you, Mrs. Emerson. I won’t disappoint you.”

“I know you won’t,” she said firmly.

We left the consultation room a few minutes later, Claire already on her phone making calls to other doctors she knew. I followed behind her, still shaky from the conversation, and that’s when I saw her.

Estelle.

She was sitting alone in the Obstetrics waiting area, her hands folded over a noticeably round stomach. She looked tired, her hair pulled back messily, wearing a plain dress that did nothing to hide how pregnant she was.

I stopped walking so abruptly that Claire nearly ran into me.

“What is it?” she asked impatiently, then followed my gaze. “Oh.”

Her mouth pressed into a thin line. She grabbed my arm and pulled me around the corner, out of Estelle’s line of sight.

“Wait here,” she commanded.

She walked off briskly, her heels clicking against the tile floor. I pressed myself against the wall and watched as she approached the reception desk, leaning in close to speak to the nurse there. Money changed hands—I couldn’t see how much, but the nurse’s eyes widened and she nodded repeatedly.

A few minutes later, Claire returned with a folder in her hands. She flipped it open right there in the hallway, scanning the pages quickly.

“Twins,” she said flatly, looking up at me. “She’s carrying twins.”

My stomach dropped. “What?”

“A boy and a girl, according to this.” Claire snapped the folder shut and tapped it against her palm thoughtfully. “Due in six weeks.”

“But Harrison said—” I stopped myself before I could finish. Harrison had said Estelle was barren, that three years of marriage hadn’t produced a single child. He’d been so angry about it, so disappointed.

“Obviously he was mistaken,” Claire said coldly, then looked at the folder again. “Or she got pregnant right before the divorce and didn’t tell him. Either way, it doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?” I repeated stupidly.

Claire looked at me like I was being deliberately dense. “Estelle is from a common background, Lyndsey. Her family has nothing—no connections, no business, no value whatsoever. She was never suitable for Harrison, not really. I tried to tell him that, but he wouldn’t listen.”

She paused, shaking her head. “Your family, on the other hand, is extremely valuable. The connections alone are worth more than anything Estelle could bring to the table.”

I nodded slowly, not sure where she was going with this.

“However,” Claire continued quietly, “Harrison’s bloodline must be continued. That’s non-negotiable.”

She looked back down the hallway toward where Estelle was still sitting, then back at me. Something flickered across her face, a look I’d seen before when she was planning something.

“When is she due, exactly?” Claire asked, more to herself than to me. She flipped the folder open again and ran her finger down the page. “November fifteenth. Six weeks from today.”

“Mrs. Emerson—”

“I need to make a phone call,” she interrupted briskly, already pulling out her phone. She dialed a number and waited, her foot tapping impatiently. “Dr. Norris? Yes, it’s Claire Emerson. I need a favor…”

She walked a few steps away, her voice dropping too low for me to hear clearly. I stood there awkwardly, clutching my purse, trying not to look at Estelle even though I wanted to.

She’d taken everything from me once—Harrison’s attention, his ring, five years of my life waiting for him to realize I was the one he actually wanted.

And now she was pregnant with his children. Twins.

I dug my nails into my palms, the unfairness of it burning in my throat.

Claire ended her call and turned back to me, a satisfied look on her face.

“I’ve thought of a solution,” she announced quietly, glancing around to make sure no one was nearby. “A brilliant solution, actually.”

“What kind of solution?” I asked nervously.

She smiled at me, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You want to marry Harrison, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“And I want grandchildren who will inherit everything we’ve built,” she continued smoothly. “Harrison’s children, with proper bloodlines.”

I nodded slowly, my heart starting to beat faster.

“Then trust me, dear.” She tucked the medical folder under her arm and linked her other arm through mine, steering me toward the exit. “By the time this is over, everyone will get exactly what they deserve.”

“I don’t understand—”

Claire lowered her voice. “I’ll handle the twins. Estelle won’t get to keep her son, and Harrison’s hatred for her will only deepen.”