Chapter 182

Chapter 182

The nurse's voice dropped to a whisper. "Nothing... nothing important, just a routine check. Rest well, Ms. Harrison. I'll... I'll be going now."

She practically bolted from the ward, not daring to make eye contact with Emily again.

Emily's only chance for help vanished right before her eyes.

Looking at Katya, Emily saw the demonic nature lurking beneath the child's innocent facade, and her blood ran cold.

The ward door clicked shut once more, sealing out any potential witnesses and snuffing out Emily's flicker of hope.

Katya leaned against the hospital bed, her small hand clutching Emily's uninjured right fingers. Her grip wasn't tight, but it had a possessive quality that made it impossible to pull away.

"Mommy," she insisted on using that word again, her little face showing an almost worshipful expectation. "You gotta get better quick. Daddy said if you're good, we'll be the happiest family ever. I will be super good and never make Mommy mad again."

Emily looked at her, feeling revulsion and dread bubbling up inside.

Her feelings toward Katya had transformed from initial warmth to now wanting absolutely nothing to do with her.

But she knew that direct confrontation would only make things worse.

She needed to buy time and find another opening to get help.

She forced her lips into a tired, submissive smile, her voice still weak. "Katya... being called 'Mommy' is just so sudden for me. I've never been a mom before. I'm scared and confused. Could you just give me a little time to wrap my head around all this?"

She tried playing the vulnerability card as a stalling tactic.

Katya tilted her head, seeming to seriously consider Emily's words, but those unnaturally mature eyes showed none of the innocence a child should possess.

She shook her head, her tone carrying a chilling childlike cruelty: "But Daddy says we don't have much time. Mommy, stop thinking about it!

There were others who wanted to think too, and they thought so long that they got stupid and boring. I didn't like them anymore."

She pouted dramatically, "I don't want you to get stupid too, Mommy. Then you couldn't play with my pretty dolls or tell me nice stories."

Those "others" again!

Emily's heart felt like it was caught in a vise. 

Gilbert had clearly used memory-destroying drugs to turn unwilling women into mindless puppets!

Yet he grew dissatisfied with them for being too zombie-like, not meeting his twisted standards, so he'd brought her here.

And Katya, this seemingly innocent little girl, could talk so casually about those women Gilbert had destroyed. Her coldness was equally terrifying.

"That won't happen," Emily said, fighting back bile as she gently squeezed Katya's small hand, her tone slightly coaxing.

"I won't get stupid. I just... need a minute to process all this. Look, I'm still super weak right now. When I'm stronger, I'll be able to play with you better, right? Just give me until after lunch to think, okay?"

Just as Katya was blinking, about to respond, the door flew open!

Gilbert stormed back in, his expression terrifyingly dark, completely unlike his previous polished demeanor.

He clutched a freshly printed medical report, rushed to the bedside, and shot Emily a venomous glare.

"Emily!" he practically spat her name, slapping the report onto the blanket beside her hand. "You better explain what the hell this means!"

Emily was blindsided by his sudden rage and instinctively glanced at the report.

When her eyes caught the report, she froze like she'd been electrocuted!

She was pregnant?

She was actually pregnant!

Emily's mind went blank for a second, then memories of her night with Michael came flooding back.

That night of passionate confusion and the chaotic aftermath had made her completely forget this possibility... but it was true...

After the initial shock came a tidal wave of emotions.

Emily felt the disbelief of impending motherhood, the terror of discovering new life in such a nightmare situation, but most of all, a fierce, growing protectiveness.

This was her and Michael's child.

But Gilbert's ice-cold, murderous voice snapped her back to the brutal reality. "You're carrying Michael's child?"

Gilbert's voice shook with rage as he leaned down and grabbed Emily's uninjured wrist hard enough to nearly crush her bones, his eyes deadly.

"Get rid of it. Schedule the surgery immediately!"

Gilbert's words hit Emily like a bucket of ice water.

She jerked her head up, her previously weak gaze suddenly razor-sharp and determined, showing a mother's primal resolve.

"Never! You wouldn't dare!" She fought to break free from his grip, her voice weak but steel-edged. "Gilbert, if you touch my baby, I swear to God I'll kill myself right in front of you!

Then all you'll have is a corpse. How're you gonna satisfy your daughter's sick fantasies then?"

"Threatening me?" Gilbert laughed, a hollow, rage-filled sound, his smile twisted and grotesque. "Emily, do you honestly think you're in any position to negotiate?

I own you completely. You live or die when I say so. If you cooperate with the procedure willingly, I can make it less painful. Otherwise..."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a bone-chilling whisper, "I have ways to make you beg to get on that operating table. The outcome won't change, but the process... will be unforgettable."

His gaze deliberately swept over the cart nearby.

Emily's heart plummeted, her body going ice-cold.

She knew this psychopath was capable of anything.

Against his absolute physical control and obsessive determination, her death threat seemed to be losing its power.

"You... you're not even human!" She forced the words through clenched teeth, trembling with fury and terror.

Gilbert straightened up and coldly adjusted his slightly rumpled suit and tie, slipping back into his mask of respectability, though the coldness in his eyes remained. "I'll give you one last chance to decide. Will you walk into the operating room with some dignity, or should I have you dragged there?"