“Ah, Giselle, you’re bleeding! Somebody help!”
Vanessa screamed in panic, but in her eyes, I caught a fleeting glimpse of satisfaction.
Once again, I was rushed into the operating room.
However, luck was no longer on my side this time.
My child was gone.
When I regained consciousness, Quintus was sitting at the edge of the bed with a grim expression.
I thought he knew about the baby, but instead, the first thing he did was blame me.
“You shouldn’t have gone to see Nessa,” he said.
“What did you just say?”
A dull, muffled ringing filled my head, as if someone were pounding a drum inside it. A cold numbness spread through my body.
He scoffed. “Why do you look so shocked? It was just a fall. You were in surgery, but now you’re fine, aren’t you? If you had just stayed in your room instead of going after Nessa, none of this would have happened.”
I frowned, slowly piecing together the key details.
Quintus didn’t seem to know about the baby.
Vanessa and the housekeeper must have pulled some strings behind my back.
That was fine. He didn’t deserve to know.
Quintus cleared his throat, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of earrings. “These are for you.”
My gaze fell on them. It was the pair I had once yearned for. I had begged him to buy them for me before, but he always dismissed it, saying a married woman should be proper and not waste time on vanity.
“What is this supposed to mean?”
I knew Quintus too well. He never lowered his pride unless he had an ulterior motive, and it certainly wasn’t an apology for Vanessa’s sake.
“The earthquake incident has been getting a lot of attention,” he began.
I raised an eyebrow. “So?”
He continued, “Reporters will be coming to the hospital the day after tomorrow. You were severely injured but survived despite having a blood clotting disorder. It’s practically a miracle. I want you to give up that interview spot to Nessa and let her pretend to be my wife.”
