Our Wedding Was Ruined and I Found a Husband 31

“When is her birthday, Vanessa?” 

“March 15,” she bit out. “Satisfied? Can I check on my daughter now?” 

March 15. No hesitation in her answer. No pause calculating some lie. 

Truth. 

“That’s the same day—” 

“Same day as what?” She interrupted, eyes dangerous. “What exactly are you suggesting, Jason?” 

Jason. Not Mr. Bradshaw now. She wielded my name like a blade. 

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m trying to understand-” 

“Understand what? Why you suddenly care about some random six–year–old’s birthday? Why you keep appearing at this hospital, studying us like we’re some riddle you need solving?” 

Volume rising. Everyone was staring now. I felt their eyes burning. 

“Stay away from my daughter,” she pressed on. Words sharp as broken glass. “You don’t get to stroll into our lives asking questions like you’ve earned any rights. You’re nobody to us. Nobody.” 

That word landed like a punch. Nobody. 

Brittany had used that identical word six years back when Laila called. “Nobody important.” 

“I’m just trying to help—” 

“We don’t need your help,” she sliced through my words. “I don’t need anything from you, except you honoring our business deal and leaving us alone.” 

Breathing hard now. Protecting her young like a wolf backed into corners. 

Our fight had attracted witnesses. Hospital staff hovering nearby, probably weighing intervention. Visitors watching like we’d become their entertainment. 

Vanessa noticed simultaneously. Color rushed her cheeks. 

She shoved past me wordlessly. Stormed into Ava’s room, door slamming hard enough to shake the frame. 

Standing there in that hallway. Heart hammering. Thoughts spinning wildly. People still staring. Whispering. Probably already texting about the Alpha’s public breakdown. Let them talk. I didn’t care anymore. 

March 15. Identical birthday. Same defensive fury. Same protective rage. 

Same green eyes. 

I found a quiet corner and pulled out my phone with hands refusing to steady. 

Marcus answered quickly. “Alpha? You okay?” 

1/3 

Chapter 31 

+25 Bonus 

“I need something.” My voice sounded foreign. Too raw, too desperate. “The Laila investigation. Go deeper.” 

“We’ve already examined everything-” 

“I know what you’ve examined. But dig harder. Check the hospital records again. Any births on March 15 six years back. Look for records possibly overlooked or hidden.” 

Silence stretched. “Jason, what’s going on?” 

“Just do it, Marcus. Please.” 

More silence. “You think…?” 

“I don’t know what I think. That’s why I need the investigation. Track down the original hospital staff from that night. Scrutinize immigration records harder. Follow that money trail like we discussed.” 

“This concerns Vanessa Harper, doesn’t it? And her daughter.” 

I couldn’t answer; I didn’t trust my voice. 

Marcus exhaled long and heavy. “Alright. I’ll assign our best people. But Jason… be careful. Whatever you’re hoping to discover, make sure you’re prepared.” 

“I will be.” 

I might’ve been lying. 

After disconnecting, I couldn’t force myself to leave. Couldn’t abandon that hospital room despite logic screaming at me to go. 

Instead, I drifted back. I stood outside Ava’s door like some stalker. 

Through the window, I watched Vanessa beside the bed. Her hand stroking Ava’s hair with infinite gentleness. The little girl was awake now, chattering about something that made her mother smile. 

That smile changed everything. Made her look impossibly young. 

Devastatingly familiar. 

Palm pressed against the doorframe. Watching them like observing a life I could’ve lived. 

Should’ve lived. 

If I hadn’t been such a coward six years ago. If I’d defied my family. If I’d picked love over duty. 

Ava laughed at whatever her mother said. Sound cutting through the door, bright and clear. 

I made a promise then and there. Whatever truth Marcus uncovered, I wouldn’t let them disappear again. 

Not this time. 

I turned from the door. Headed toward the exit. 

But one question circled relentlessly through my mind. 

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Chapter 31 

What if Laila is alive but simply doesn’t want to see me? 

That question followed me to my car. Followed me home. 

Couldn’t figure out what scared me more–the possibility it was true, or the possibility it wasn’t.