Chapter 5
554words
Brandon trembled violently and lowered his voice, afraid of being overheard. "This is fake! You forged this!"
"You're nothing but an unwanted bastard."
"Fake or not, ask the family lawyer. The original is in the family trust fund's safe."
Brandon fell silent, frozen in place.
If he weren't still somewhat useful, I would have dealt with him right then.
I reclaimed my phone, my gaze sweeping over the hesitant armed men like a blade.
Then I produced the token Arthur had left me.
"Look at this, all of you!"
I raised my voice with authority, exuding the aura of the family matriarch:
"This is Arthur's token—to see it is to see him. You will obey me!"
The armed men exchanged glances, their fierce resolve crumbling. In this world, loyalty was everything.
"Now," I pointed to the stairway and commanded sternly,
"Whoever brings the doctor up gets promoted! Whoever blocks the way will be treated as a traitor and punished accordingly!"
"MAKE WAY!"
The thunderous command made everyone flinch.
"Clear a path! Move!" The squad leader reacted first, shoving Brandon aside. "Doctor, hurry up! Madam's orders! Move!"
Tiffany blocked the stairway, still trying to intervene. "Brandon, she's defying you! Why aren't you saying anything?"
"If you let them through, how will you ever command respect in this family again?"
"Shut up!" Brandon yanked her aside. "Can't you see she has the family token?"
Tiffany hadn't expected Brandon's dramatic change in attitude and felt bewildered:
"What did she show you? What's got you so terrified?"
SLAP!
A vicious slap landed across Tiffany's face.
Brandon was furious. "I told you to shut up! Are you deaf?"
"You hit me?" Tiffany's eyes widened in disbelief, tears of humiliation welling up.
The doctors finally rushed upstairs.
In the delivery room, the smell of blood was overwhelming.
Bella lay on the bed, ashen-faced, her breathing shallow.
"Save her!"
I spoke only two words.
After a harrowing rescue effort, the baby was finally delivered.
It was a girl.
The vital signs monitor fluctuated wildly—the mother's life hanging by a thread.
I gripped Bella's ice-cold hand and whispered in her ear:
"Bella, listen to me."
"We agreed that once we made our first hundred million, we'd buy an island in Sicily and keep ten Italian male models."
"If you die now, you're letting those two dogs off too easily."
Bella's eyelashes fluttered.
"Male… models…"
She rasped out the words, finally managing to open her eyes with effort, and smiled weakly at me.
After confirming both mother and child were stable, I left the delivery room.
Brandon and Tiffany remained in the hallway, surrounded by armed men who had switched allegiance.
Tiffany's nails dug into her palms as she forced a smile that looked more pained than pleasant.
"Congratulations. Bella is truly fortunate to be alive."
After I turned away, she paused, lowering her voice to a whisper:
"Damn it, that bitch actually delivered the bastard! No, I need a plan. Just wait—you'll all be finished soon…"
She thought I couldn't hear.
I approached Tiffany.
Leaning slightly forward, in a volume only she could hear:
"Tiffany."
"You just said someone will be finished soon, didn't you?"
Her pupils contracted.
I straightened, my voice ice-cold:
"You're right. Someone is going to be finished."
"But that person is you. And Brandon."
