Chapter 161

Chapter 161

I lowered my eyes, didn't respond, and simply nodded obediently. Seeing my softened attitude, Sawyer didn't push further and told me to go back to my room and rest.

The next morning, just as I finished washing up, my phone on the nightstand suddenly vibrated.

I picked it up—it was a text from Benjamin.

[Emergency back home. Had to fly back. Take care of yourselves, and don't clash with Mr. White. I'll come get you once I handle this.]

My heart clenched as I stared at the words on the screen.

Yesterday he was still on an IV drip, so weak he could barely sit up. How could he possibly fly back today? And though the text sounded calm, there was an unmistakable finality between the lines.

I immediately dialed his number, but all I got was the cold, mechanical female voice: "The number you have dialed is currently switched off."

Without another thought, I grabbed my coat and bag and rushed out of my room. Sawyer was still having breakfast at this hour. I didn't disturb anyone—just had the driver bring the car around and headed straight for Hof Hotel.

The car pulled up at the hotel entrance. I hurried into the lobby and went straight to the front desk.

"Can you check on Mr. Wilson in the penthouse suite for me?" I asked the receptionist.

The receptionist tapped a few keys, then looked up apologetically. "Ma'am, Mr. Wilson checked out at four a.m. this morning. He should have already left the hotel."

I stood in the empty hotel lobby, my mind going blank for a moment.

Four in the morning? He left in the middle of the night.

I pulled out my phone and sent him several more messages.

[What happened? Why did you leave so suddenly?]

[Your body can't handle a long flight, Benjamin. Answer me!]

The messages disappeared into the void.

I stood there, anger and worry twisting together in my chest. Benjamin wasn't the type to leave without saying goodbye. I knew better than anyone how clingy he was. Unless something happened back home that required his immediate presence—something so urgent he couldn't even say goodbye to my face.

Brent? Internal strife at the Wilson Group? Or had Marlowe pulled something behind the scenes?

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. Wild speculation wouldn't help. I needed to get my documents back and return home as soon as possible.

Walking out of the hotel, I hailed a taxi.

"The White manor, by the Verity River," I gave the address and leaned back in the seat, rubbing my throbbing temples.

The car drove smoothly through Suncrest City's streets. The early autumn sunlight was a bit harsh. As I watched the scenery rush past the window, my stomach suddenly churned violently.

This wave of nausea hit me out of nowhere, even more intense than the one in Luminous City.

"Please pull over!" I covered my mouth, my face pale as I shouted.

The driver jumped, quickly pulling to the curb. I shoved the door open, rushed to a nearby trash can, and bent over, dry heaving. There was no food in my stomach—just some acidic bile that brought tears to my eyes.

The driver handed me a bottle of water, asking worriedly, "Ma'am, are you okay? Do you need to go to a hospital?"

I took the water and rinsed my mouth, straightening up. As the cold wind hit me, a thought suddenly flashed through my mind.

The dry heaving in Luminous City, the constant fatigue lately, and my period being nearly two weeks late... I'd assumed it was stomach trouble from overwork and jet lag, but now, this familiar reaction made my heart skip a beat.

"Take me to the nearest hospital." I got back in the car, my voice trembling slightly.

Half an hour later, I sat outside the OB-GYN office at a private hospital in Suncrest City.

The air smelled faintly of disinfectant. I clutched the registration slip tightly, my palms clammy with cold sweat.

"Ms. White, please come in." A nurse called my name.

Blood tests, lab work. Waiting for the results felt endless. I sat on a cold bench in the hallway, my mind in chaos.

If I really was pregnant, at this critical moment, what should I do? Benjamin's fate was uncertain, things back home were a mess, and Sawyer was determined to tear us apart.

"Ms. White." A female doctor emerged holding lab results, a professional smile on her face.

She said to me, "Congratulations, Ms. White. You are six weeks pregnant. The fetal heart rate is normal."

I sat frozen in the chair, reaching out to take the lab report covered in Solstice text.

Six weeks.

Counting back, it was right before Benjamin got hurt—during that time we spent together back home.

I stared at the numbers on the report, my eyes instantly welling up. Joy rushed over me like a tide, followed immediately by deep shock and panic.

I was carrying Benjamin's child. At a time when we were surrounded on all sides, when he could barely keep himself alive.

I took a deep breath, carefully folded the lab report, and tucked it into the inner pocket of my coat. This couldn't get out—not until I got back home and saw Benjamin. Especially not to Sawyer.

I took a taxi back to the White manor. By the time I arrived, dusk had fallen.

The moment I stepped through the gate, I sensed something was off. The manor was eerily quiet. The servants who usually tended the garden were nowhere to be seen—only a few stone-faced bodyguards stood by the entrance.

My heart sank as I hurried into the living room.

Sawyer sat in his wheelchair in the center of the room, his face dark as a thundercloud. Mia stood behind him, head slightly bowed, silent.

"Grandfather." I suppressed the panic rising in my chest and walked forward.

"Thwack!"

A document envelope slammed down hard on the coffee table. Several photos slid out, scattering across the surface.

I looked down, my breath catching sharply.

The photos showed Benjamin and me at the café. Though they only captured our profiles and backs, our clasped hands and the undisguised devotion in Benjamin's eyes as he looked at me said everything.

"You completely ignored what I said?" Sawyer's voice was ice-cold, his cloudy eyes blazing with fury. "I told you to go out with Francis for some air, and you used him as cover to sneak off and meet with that animal from the Wilson family!"

I looked at the photos without trying to explain. Since they'd been taken, any excuse would be futile.

"Grandfather, Benjamin and I are legally married." I met Sawyer's furious gaze, my tone calm but firm. "I saw my own husband. It's perfectly legal."

"Legally married?" Sawyer laughed bitterly, his gnarled fingers pounding the wheelchair armrest. "Your mother died at the hands of the Wilson family! And now you're protecting your enemy's son? Ophelia, have you no shame?"

"I'll get to the bottom of Mom's death." I clenched my fists. "But Benjamin is innocent, he—"

"Shut up!" Sawyer cut me off sharply, his gaze cutting like a knife. "I don't care if he's innocent or not. As long as he's a Wilson, he'll never set foot in the White family—not in this lifetime!"