All Chapters of The Womanizer's Mute Wife : Chapter 211 - Chapter 217

The doctor hesitated, his jaw tightening. “She…” he paused, his throat working as he searched for the right words. “She’s in critical condition. We managed to stop the bleeding, but her body’s weak. She lost a lot of blood, and right now, she’s not responding. We’re doing everything we can, but…”Genesis’s breath caught. Her fingers went cold. “But what?” she whispered.“She might not make it through the night,” the doctor said softly.Genesis gasped, her knees giving out beneath her as she clutched at Knight’s arm. “No…” Her voice broke. “No, please, no…she can’t… she can’t die.”“Genesis..” Knight started, reaching for her, but she stumbled forward toward the doctor, shaking her head violently.“Let me see her!” she cried. “Please, I need to see her! I have to…”The doctor stepped in front of her, his hands raised. “I’m sorry, ma’am. You can’t. She’s in intensive care now. No visitors allowed until she stabilizes.”“I don’t care!” Genesis sobbed, her voice rising. “Please, she has t

GENESISI stared at myself in the mirror. I didn’t feel good.My skin looked pale, and my stomach churned again. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, sighing. This was the second time I’d thrown up this morning—and I still didn’t know why.I glanced down at what had left my stomach, staring blankly for a few seconds before pressing the flush button. Watching it swirl away somehow made me feel even emptier.After brushing my teeth, I stepped out of the bathroom. The bed was empty—Kieran was gone. Not that it was a surprise.I pulled on one of his large shirts, the fabric soft against my skin, and made my way downstairs. I needed to find him—to tell him I wanted to go to the hospital to see Amelia and the baby. I needed to know they were okay.But as soon as I pushed open the bedroom door, noise flooded my ears—bustling footsteps, moving voices, the sound of wheels on marble.“What’s going on?” I muttered, blinking.I hurried down the stairs, and from halfway down, I could already

I sat in the vinyl chair beside Amelia’s hospital bed, the monitors beeping their slow, steady lullaby. Whatever they’d pushed through her IV had finally won; her lashes fluttered once, twice, then settled. She’d fought sleep like a soldier, terrified that if she closed her eyes the video of her baby would vanish. Thirty minutes straight she’d watched it on loop (tiny fists waving, rosebud mouth yawning), tears sliding sideways into her hair.Revelation had bullied the NICU staff into letting us record the infant. I’d only had to soften the request with a please and a tremble in my voice. They’d caved. Revelation filmed from the doorway (Amelia was too weak to be wheeled down), and we’d carried the baby to her on a glowing screen.Now Amelia slept, cheeks still wet. I eased the phone from her slack fingers and tucked the thin blanket higher around her shoulders. She looked impossibly young with the fight drained out of her.I turned to hand Revelation her phone. She wasn’t looking at