Chapter 2After Bearing the Alpha Billionaire’s Child, I Cried in Terror

Damian was about to push the door open. I was frantic.

I scrambled to scoop up the squirming kittens and shoved them into Martha’s arms, hissing in a low voice, “Quick! Hide them in the trash bin!”

Martha gave me a shocked look, but her body moved faster than her brain. In a flash, all five kittens were nestled in the bin.

Just as she finished, the door swung open.

Damian’s gaze swept from the fainted doctor on the floor to my empty delivery bed.

His brow furrowed. “What happened? Where’s your child?”

His eyes bored into me, demanding an answer. I knew if I couldn't come up with a believable explanation, I’d be in a shallow grave within the minute.

My heart hammered against my ribs, my mind racing. In that split second, I took a deep breath, rolled off the bed, and gave Damian a deep, solemn bow.

“Mr. Blackwood! I… I have failed you!”

Damian’s face instantly darkened. “Tell me, how exactly have you failed me?” As he spoke, the bodyguards behind him rested their hands on the hilts of their daggers.

I clutched my stomach, feigning extreme shame, my voice trembling. “Mr. Blackwood, what I just fought to deliver… it wasn’t a baby!”

“It was a giant, foul-smelling, years-old… bowel movement!”

“The stench is what made the doctor faint!”

The room fell into a dead silence.

The doctors and bodyguards stared, their professional masks cracking with disbelief.

Damian’s lips twitched. He eyed my stomach suspiciously. “Who performed your prenatal check-ups?”

“Dr. Wells,” I said quickly. “Mr. Blackwood, Jenna and I never got along. Dr. Wells was her lover. I suspect he deliberately misdiagnosed me to make me look like a fool in front of you! I was stupid enough to believe him. I spent months eating everything in sight, thinking I was growing a baby, but I was just getting fat! The terrible pain just now… it wasn't labor, it was… relief!”

Dr. Wells had already been disposed of along with Jenna. A dead man couldn't defend himself. He was the perfect scapegoat.

Damian’s face was a thundercloud. “So, I've been waiting outside all this time… for you to take a dump?”