All Chapters of I Was Your Dying Omega, Now I'm Your Sovereign Alpha: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Sofia's Pov The default filing had been on the judge's desk for four minutes. I watched him read it without appearing to watch him. Marcus was speaking beside me. His voice was measured. The tone he used when he wanted facts to sound like things that had already been decided. "The claimant's absence today is not a logistical failure, Your Honor. It is consistent with a pattern. A pattern of unavailability. A pattern of placing other priorities above the welfare of this child. The child has had stability in our household. She has not had it anywhere else." The judge looked up. "Has the absent party submitted any communication to this court this morning?" "Nothing on record." "No request for continuance." "None." "No notification of any kind." "The court has received nothing from the claimant or her representative this morning, Your Honor." The judge looked back at the filing. The baby shifted on my lap. She reached for my collar. I moved her hand gently and she turned he

Sofia's Pov The clock on the back wall clicked. I kept my chin up and looked directly at the bench. “The court is waiting for your answer, Ms Grant,” Judge Henderson noted, leaning his forearms on the desk. I turned my head slightly to the left. Marcus gave me a tiny shake of his head. He did it so fast that nobody else in the room would see it. It meant I had to watch my words. It didn't mean I should stay quiet. “I understand the question, Your Honor,” I responded, placing both hands flat on the wooden table. “Then answer it,” Judge Henderson insisted, picking up his pen. “The documents were filed with the information I had at that specific time.” “That wasn't what I asked,” Judge Henderson remarked, tapping the pen against his palm. “Did you know about the biological origin when you filed?” “I received the clinic records from the pack physician. Those records were signed and certified by the medical board of Crescent Ridge.” “Did you check them?” “That wasn't my job,” I

William's Pov My father was alive, barely. He stood up and slowly went to lay in the large bed that faced the big glass window he always preferred. His breathing was very shallow and quick, making a tiny whistling sound in his throat every time his chest moved up. I stepped into the room and stopped beside the dark wood table.His eyes opened slowly when the latch on the heavy door clicked into place. He looked at me for a long moment, then his gaze shifted over my left shoulder toward the entrance.Lola was standing right there in the doorway, her hands hanging loosely down by her sides.My father stared at her for a long time. He had never met her before today, but he knew her face well. He knew it from the color photograph I sent him three weeks ago from the safe house, he knew it from the morning news broadcasts on the television, he knew it from the exact description I gave him over the telephone when the court session finished. He looked back at me, his mouth opening just a

Lola's Pov "How did you get this number?" I asked, my voice staying flat while my foot tapped against the floorboards."Your mother and I were close friends. She gave it to me twenty years ago," Vera said, her breath making a tiny scratching sound against the line. "She told me to use it only if something happened to both of them. I kept the small scrap of paper inside my mattress all this time."I leaned my back against the wall, looking down at my shoes. "My mother died five years ago. Why did you wait so long to dial it?""Your uncle had his men around the house every day," Vera explained, her voice dropping down until it was almost a whisper. "He had people checking my mail at the post office. He told me he would burn my garage down if I went near the ridge.""My uncle is behind the iron bars now. He can't burn anything.""I know," Vera muttered, pausing for three seconds. "I saw the news on the television. That is why I am calling you tonight, Lola. We need to talk before the s

Lola's Pov We spent the next four hours working through the counter filing line by line. Williams pointed out the historical precedents while I checked the council registry codes on the screen, our movements steady and synchronizedBy eight o'clock in the evening, the house had gone completely quiet again. The council courier had already taken the signed counter filing down to the main gate, leaving the long corridors of the estate empty. I walked out of the kitchen and moved down the hall toward the front wing, my socks making no sound on the polished wood. The door to the old man's study was open an inch, a single yellow lamp casting a warm glow across the threshold. I stopped in the doorway and leaned my shoulder against the frame, keeping my arms crossed over my stomach. Williams was standing right in front of the fireplace, his eyes fixed on the heavy wooden frame hanging on the center of the wall. Inside the glass, the original betrothal decree copy looked yellow and faded