Chapter 3

Evelyn's fingers trembled against her teacup.

The porcelain felt unnaturally cold against her skin, mirroring the chill running down her spine.

"Surely you're still attending university, Evelyn?" Victoria's voice dripped with false concern. "A pregnancy would disrupt your education terribly."

Gregory nodded vigorously. "Exactly! At your age, you should be focusing on your future, not changing diapers!"

Eleanor's sharp gaze cut through their objections. The matriarch's lips pressed into a thin line as she studied Evelyn's reaction.

"Tell me truthfully, child," Eleanor demanded, leaning forward. "Would you carry Dominic's heir? Understand this - you and the baby would inherit everything. More wealth than you could spend in three lifetimes."

Evelyn didn't blink. "I'll do it."

The words tasted bitter, but necessary. Anything to keep Julian's greedy hands off the Blackwood fortune.

And let's be honest, she thought bitterly, they'd make me do it anyway.

Eleanor's face transformed, wrinkles smoothing with delight. "Marvelous! I knew you had more sense than those other empty-headed girls. They ran screaming from a dying man's bed like fools!"

The tea concluded with forced pleasantries. Evelyn fled the oppressive mansion, desperate for fresh air.

Julian intercepted her at the gates.

Sunlight glinted off his too-perfect smile. Somewhere, a mockingbird sang.

Bile rose in Evelyn's throat.

"Mrs. Wilkins, would you take these inside?" Evelyn thrust the gift boxes at the housekeeper without breaking eye contact with Julian.

The moment they were alone, Julian's mask slipped. "How could you?" he hissed. "You wouldn't even let me hold your hand, but now you'll spread your legs for a vegetable?"

Evelyn's laugh was razor-sharp. "For billions? I'd do far worse."

Julian's nostrils flared. Then, suddenly, he smirked. "Clever girl. But here's a better plan - we make the baby together. Who's to know it's not Uncle Dominic's? The bloodline stays pure, and Grandmother would never risk harming a potential heir."

Evelyn's amusement vanished. "Ambition's admirable, Julian. Stupidity less so."

She stepped closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "Do you truly believe Dominic's wolves would let us live if they discovered the fraud? That man may be comatose, but his pack still watches."

Julian paled. He knew better than most how Dominic's inner circle operated - shadows with teeth.

"I was joking!" he backpedaled. "Of course the child should be his! I'd treat my little cousin like royalty!"

"Cousin?" Evelyn arched an eyebrow. "Not stepchild?"

Julian's expression turned queasy. "Semantics. We'll discuss this after... you know."

"And if he never dies?" Evelyn challenged. "Will you remain celibate waiting for me?"

His silence spoke volumes.

With a derisive chuckle, Evelyn turned away. "Eleanor's sending doctors to Dominic's estate. Best not keep them waiting."

The Blackwood mansion's medical suite gleamed with sterile efficiency.

Two white-coated professionals guided Evelyn through a battery of tests. Ovulation checks. Hormone panels. The works.

"Don't be nervous, Mrs. Blackwood," the female doctor soothed as needles glinted under fluorescent lights. "A little discomfort now guarantees your future."

Evelyn lay back on the examination table, pulse racing.

"How soon until... conception?" she asked.

The doctors exchanged glances.

"That," said the male doctor, adjusting his glasses, "depends entirely on your body's cooperation."