Chapter 10

"Complicated?" Richard's gaze cut through the crowd, landing on the frail figure being helped to a chair after her examination.

He had orchestrated this humiliating "physical" to expose her charade—to prove that all her weakness was fake, that her resistance stemmed solely from her lingering feelings for another man.

He had wanted a simple, clear-cut result. Irrefutable evidence to silence her.

But now the doctor was telling him things were complicated.

Margaret seemed to sense his stare and slowly lifted her head to meet his gaze. Her body swayed slightly, her eyes fluttered closed, and without warning, she collapsed sideways.

"Mrs. Neville!" The young nurse nearest to her cried out, quickly catching her before she hit the floor.

The hallway erupted into chaos.

Richard stood frozen in place. Logic told him this was just another of her tricks, but his heart skipped a beat against his will.

This woman who always stood tall and defiant before him now lay unconscious in someone else's arms, her face paper-white, so fragile she looked as if she might disappear at any moment.

"What are you all standing around for? Get her to emergency!" Glenn barked at the medical staff, then hurried to Richard, bowing even lower than before. "Mr. Neville, please don't worry. Mrs. Neville is just... extremely weak. It's temporary. She should be fine."

Richard remained silent, watching the gurney being rushed to the emergency room, his expression unreadable.

He was escorted back to the VIP waiting room. Listening to the hurried footsteps and hushed conversations outside, anxiety and irritation tightened around his heart.

He wanted to dismiss everything as Margaret's manipulation, but the look in her eyes before she collapsed haunted him.

Glenn entered carrying a cup of hot tea.

"Mr. Neville, Mrs. Neville has regained consciousness. Nothing serious—just acute stress combined with her severely weakened condition. We've started her on IV fluids," he reported cautiously. "The preliminary results are also in."

Richard looked up, signaling him to continue.

"Mrs. Neville's condition is concerning. She's suffering from chronic malnutrition, with multiple inflammatory markers severely elevated. The fluid in her pelvic and abdominal cavities requires further investigation."

"Mr. Neville, given her current physical state, not only would conception be inadvisable, but even normal marital relations would place tremendous strain on her body."

Richard frowned deeply. Yet recently, he had forced her to try for pregnancy, had taken her roughly in his office.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he asked hoarsely, "So you're saying she can't conceive?"

"Not advisable at present," Glenn chose his words carefully.

"Her body needs proper treatment first. However..." he seemed to remember something important, "as per your instructions, we conducted toxicology screenings. The results show no traces of any contraceptive medications in Mrs. Neville's system."

No contraceptives?

Richard's head snapped up, his piercing gaze drilling into Glenn.

Unnerved, Glenn quickly repeated, "Yes, Mr. Neville. We can confirm that Mrs. Neville hasn't taken any form of contraceptive for at least six months. Given her current liver function, if she had been taking medication, she would have shown serious complications by now."

Richard had been absolutely convinced that for five years, she had refused to get pregnant out of loyalty to Matthew.

He had used this belief to torment her and to convince himself that all their problems stemmed from her unfaithfulness.

But if she hadn't been using contraception, then why... why had there been no sign of pregnancy in five years?

Was it because her health had deteriorated to this extent?

Then why hadn't she told him? Why hadn't she explained? Why had she allowed his misunderstandings, endured his humiliation?

He stood up and strode toward her hospital room.

Margaret was propped up in bed receiving fluids, dressed in a clean hospital gown that only emphasized how skeletal she had become.

Hearing the door open, she slowly turned her head. Seeing Richard, her expression remained unchanged as she looked away again.

That dismissive indifference again.

The complex emotions Richard had just begun to feel were instantly washed away by her impenetrable attitude.

"The examinations are complete. The doctor says your body isn't suitable for pregnancy."

Margaret's eyelashes trembled, but she remained silent.

"You knew this all along, didn't you?" Richard pressed.

Margaret finally responded, turning slowly to face him with a mocking smile. "And what if I did?"

Before the words had fully left her lips, Richard reached over and yanked the IV needle from the back of her hand.

"Mr. Neville!" The nurse who had followed him cried out in alarm.

Ignoring her, Richard pulled Margaret from the bed, wrapped her in his suit jacket, and lifted her into his arms.

Disregarding the protests of the medical staff, he carried her swiftly from the hospital.

Margaret didn't struggle. She was too exhausted to even lift a finger.

How ridiculous, she thought. What was he so angry about?

Was he furious that her poor health meant she couldn't be his breeding tool to secure his position?

Or was he angry at discovering he had wronged her but couldn't bring himself to admit it?

They drove in silence until the black Bentley pulled smoothly into Crownspire Villa.

Tiana, already informed, waited at the entrance. She was startled to see Richard carrying the deathly pale Margaret.

"Mr. Neville, what happened to Mrs. Neville...?"

Richard didn't answer. Expressionless, he carried Margaret straight to the second floor and deposited her on the master bedroom's plush bed.

Margaret took a moment to push herself upright.

"You wanted to resign? From today, you won't be going to the office. You'll stay home and 'recover your health.'" He emphasized the phrase with unmistakable sarcasm.

"Tiana will monitor your meals three times a day. Without my permission, you are not to leave Crownspire Villa, nor are you to receive any visitors."

Margaret listened quietly. When he finished, she let out a soft, bitter laugh.

Unable to resign, she was now under house arrest—he truly wouldn't allow her even a shred of dignity.

"Richard," she raised her head, and for the first time, a clear emotion surfaced in those hollow eyes—complete, unequivocal disgust without a trace of attachment—"does this actually satisfy you?"

"Whether it satisfies me or not isn't for you to decide."

Richard leaned down, his hands planted on either side of her, trapping her between the bed and his chest. "Margaret, even if you die, you'll die as part of the Neville family!"