Chapter 31
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Everyone was dumbfounded.
Dorothee was the first to react, dashing into the ward. Galen sat on the bed, gazing at her quietly with a childish
lilt in his voice.
“Mom, I’m hungry.”
Dorothee was so overjoyed she nearly screamed, clamping a hand over her mouth to avoid startling her son.
Galen repeated, “Mommy, I’m hungry. I want crepes.”
Tears welled in Dorothee’s eyes.
“Yes, I will make them for you. Right now, tell me, what kind do you want?”
‘Can I have chocolate ones?”
Dorothee burst into tears.
‘Of course! Chocolate crepes, right? I’m on it now! Someone get the best flour and chocolate immediately!”
Edgar gaped in astonishment.“Gal, do you know who I am?”
Daddy.”
Edgar sighed in relief, his chest heaving. “Gal, say it again.”
Daddy.”
The Wallace family erupted in joy, clustering around Galen as if celebrating a festival.
Bertha released a quiet breath, genuinely happy for them.
Suddenly, a hand clamped around her wrist.
Bertha was dumbfounded.
Marcus’s face was stormy. Before she could react, he yanked her into the adjacent room.
He pinned her against the door.
Then he lowered his gaze to lock onto hers.
Bertha’s back pressed to the door, retreat impossible. She stood rigid, eyeing Marcus warily.
‘What are you doing?”
Was he finally going to lose his temper?
Was the storm about to break?
Was this about the money?
Marcus remained silent, just staring at her straight, with a complicated expression.
He didn’t know if the woman before him was the one he’d spent years searching for.
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Uncertainty gnawed at him. How could he face her? What could he possibly say?
Bertha couldn’t fathom his behavior, but she’d noticed his odd demeanor in the car.
Now she was certain, his gaze, though still cold, held a flicker of warmth.
As he stayed silent, Bertha cleared her throat.
“What do you want from me now? Aren’t you worried Marcus will come after you?”
Still, Marcus was speechless.
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Realizing that mentioning Marcus was useless, she blurted, “Are you here for money? I… I don’t have any. And your people bullied my Ethan first!”
Marcus remained mute.
She pressed on, “Even if you weren’t involved, I’m not at fault. I can’t pay the debt in full. I’m literally broke. Kill me if you want, but I can’t pay. If I had it, I’d have given it to you already. Just give me time to find a way.”
Marcus fell silent.
He still didn’t say anything, and Bertha panicked.
Weren’t you here for money? Or are you taking sides with that old man Jefferson? I told you, he made the first nove, and I was just defending myself.”
Marcus stayed silent, fueling Bertha’s irritation.
What the hell do you want? Just say it!”
His lips twitched, but he didn’t make any sound.
Before Bertha could say anything again, Marcus raised his hand.
Bertha flinched, expecting a blow; instead, a tiny sting pricked her scalp, like an ant’s bite.
What are you doing?” She shielded her head, glaring at him.
Marcus’s gaze swirled with emotion. He turned and strode out without a word.
Bewildered, Bertha watched him go.
At the door, Marcus told Axell,“Guard her closely. No escape, and no mistreatment.”
Then he gave Bertha’s and Casper’s hair to Kason.
“Run a DNA test. I want the results as soon as possible.”
Kason didn’t even know whose samples these were. Dumbfounded, he said, “Earliest by tomorrow.”
“Do it personally.”
“Sure.”
Kason had just stepped into the lab with the samples when chaos erupted in Casper’s ward.
Casper woke to find a female nurse by his bed and flew into a rage.
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He yanked out the IV line, smashed the bedside monitor, and raked the needle across his face and arms.
By the time Kason and Marcus arrived, the room was in shambles.
Casper thrashed and screamed, sending medical supplies flying as the caretaker cowered in the corner, sobbing.
Marcus’s heart lurched at the blood streaking Casper’s skin.
“Casper!” he called out.
“Stay back!” Casper yelled.
Marcus halted mid–step as Casper shrieked, “Come any closer and I’ll jump!”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
