Chapter 216 Save it.

Chapter 216 Save it.


Elisa stood frozen in the center of the room, her fingers gripping the edge of the DNA test result until the crisp paper crumpled beneath her nails. The numbers, the medical jargon, the clinical proof that Ridge had secretly doubted her loyalty while she was still carrying their child,it all burned into her retinas like acid.

Every sweet memory from the past few months, every tender kiss, every promise whispered in the dark, and every flower that lined the estate's grand entrance suddenly felt like a lie. A carefully constructed illusion. A gilded cage built on suspicion and pity.

“He still doubts the paternity of the child...”

She had wanted to believe it was just a sick, manipulative trick. But the paper in her hand was real. Ridge had ordered it behind her back. He had looked her in the eyes, held her hand in the hospital bed, and secretly questioned whether her baby,her sweet, innocent Sunny was truly his.

A cold, blinding fury surged through Elisa’s veins, washing away the numbness and replacing it with a sharp, dangerous fire.

She didn't cry. She didn't drop to her knees. Instead, her jaw set into a hard, unyielding line. She clutched the incriminating document tightly in her hand, turned on her heel, and marched straight out of the study.

Down the long, sunlit corridor, a sudden sound pierced the air.

Waaah! Waaah!

From the master nursery, baby Sunny had woken up from his nap. The infant’s high-pitched cries echoed down the hallway, signaling that he was hungry or simply wanted his mother.

For a split second, Elisa felt a sharp, instinctive pull in her chest. Every fiber of her maternal instinct urged her to turn around, rush to the crib, and scoop her crying baby into her arms to soothe him. But she forced her feet to keep moving forward.

She couldn't turn back now.

If he didn't cry in the hospital, we wouldn't have known he was alive, Elisa thought bitterly, her heart aching as the cries grew louder behind her. So a little cry won't hurt him today. I have far more pressing issues to deal with right now.

She needed answers. She needed the man who had claimed to love her to look her in the eyes and explain why he had treated her like a suspect in his own private laboratory.

Elisa reached the top of the grand staircase, her eyes scanning the sprawling hallway below.

"Ridge!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice cracking with raw, unbridled fury that echoed off the high vaulted ceilings of the mansion.

Downstairs, two household maids who were polishing the banisters jumped in absolute shock. They dropped their cleaning rags and scrambled backward in sheer terror, scurrying away down the service hall as fast as their legs could carry them. In the entire history of the Lockhart estate, no one had ever heard Elisa raise her voice like that. She was always calm, always gentle. But right now, she sounded like a storm ready to tear the house down from its foundations.

Elisa stormed down the stairs, her breath coming in hot, ragged gasps. She marched through the living hall, throwing open doors and checking the library.

Ridge was nowhere to be found.

Frustration boiling over, she spun around and demanded of a trembling butler who had peeked out from the dining room, "Where is Ridge?"

The butler swallowed hard, wringing his hands. "I... I do not know Mrs. Lockhart. He went out early this morning to inspect the eastern security perimeter, but he hasn't returned to the main office."

Not willing to waste another second, Elisa marched out of the main house and headed straight toward the private residential wing.

She didn't bother to knock. She pushed the heavy wooden door open with a loud bang.

Arthur was sitting comfortably in his leather armchair, reading the morning paper and sipping a cup of black coffee. He looked up, startled by the violent entrance, lowering his glasses as he took in Elisa’s flushed face and the crumpled paper clutched in her fist.

"Good lord, Elisa," Arthur blinked, setting his coffee down. "Is everything all right? You look like you're about to commit murder."

"Where is he?" Elisa demanded, her voice shaking with restrained rage as she stepped into the room.

Arthur frowned, leaning back in his chair. "Who? Ridge? I haven't seen him since breakfast, my dear. He said something about checking the cargo manifests in the south wing, but—"

"Don't lie to me, Arthur!" Elisa snapped, her dark eyes flashing with dangerous intensity. "You always cover for him! Tell me where he is!"

Arthur raised his hands defensively, genuine confusion written across his weathered face. "I swear to you, Elisa, I have no idea where he went. Ask the guards, ask the maids,no one has seen him for the last hour."

Realizing the old man genuinely didn't know, Elisa let out a harsh, frustrated breath. She turned on her heel and stormed back toward the main mansion, her mind racing.

She wouldn't wait for him to hide. She wouldn't go hunting through every corner of the estate like a desperate, helpless wife. If he wanted to play games behind her back, she would stand right in the middle of his house and wait for him to walk right into her trap.

She marched back into the main foyer, stopping near the grand staircase, her chest heaving as she gripped the DNA document like a weapon.

Just then, the heavy front double doors slowly creaked open.

Ridge stepped into the foyer.

He was dressed in a dark, fitted charcoal shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, exposing his powerful, corded muscles. In his right hand, he held a massive, stunning bouquet of fresh, blood-red roses,the exact kind Elisa loved.

The second he saw her standing there, a breathtaking, radiant smile broke across his handsome face. It was that golden, soul-melting smile that had completely disarmed her at the altar just days ago. His dark eyes softened with an overwhelming, palpable warmth, glowing with so much genuine adoration that, for a fleeting, terrifying second, Elisa’s heart betrayed her.

Her body actually wanted to melt. She wanted to run into his arms, bury her face against his broad chest, and pretend that the ugly paper in her hand didn't exist.

It’s all fake, she told herself harshly, biting the inside of her cheek until she tasted copper to snap herself back to reality. The flowers, the smiles, the sweet words—it’s all a performance to keep the prized possession locked safely in the cage.

Ridge walked toward her, his steps slow and confident, holding the bouquet out like a peace offering.

"Good morning, my love," Ridge murmured, his deep, gravelly voice washing over her with smooth affection. "I went down to the greenhouse to pick these out myself before the sun got too high. I thought—"

"Save it, Ridge," Elisa cut him off.