Chapter 84

Chapter 84

I was just trying to help when I pointed out the obvious, “If you don’t want your kid to be born out of wedlock, go find Bryant and make him speed up our divorce, got it? Don’t make a scene here. You wouldn’t want to miscarry and lose another bargaining chip for marrying into the Ferguson family.”

Then I told her assistant, “Show your boss out

Margaret was fuming but seemed to think I had a point because she left without further fuss.

And the direction I pointed her in? Spot on.

How did I know? Well, that afternoon, Bryant gave me a call.

“What did you say to upset her?” The call opened with an accusation.

I paused my work, “I didn’t say much, just told her to talk to you about the divorce.”

His tone dipped, “You didn’t tell her to go jump off a bridge?”

So, he was looking for something to pin on me.

I wasn’t surprised Margaret would spin it like this, my voice softened, “I was cornered, okay? She called me a home-wrecker, said I was cursed, claimed I clung to any man I could find, and even threatened to have someone beat me up.

Iving, was I?

Reflecting on Margaret’s previous words, well, wasn’t exactly lying,

I was simply jazzing up the truth a bit, which is more than I could say for her outright lies.

Bryant paused, his voice turning icy, “She said that to you?”

I responded, “You know her, don’t you?”

After a moment of silence, he sighed, “She’s been spoiled by my dad. Try not to stoop to her level.”

I smirked, “Sure.”

Men, the epitome of double standards.

One moment he’s questioning me because of Margaret, and the next, he’s nobly asking me not to retaliate.

Why doesn’t he say that to Margaret?

When Christine heard about this, she was so enraged she could barely stay in bed.

“These two are beyond salvation, can’t find another pair like that in a million years!”

“Easy there, you’re going to wear yourself out. Still got the energy to rant, huh?”

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Chapter 84

I handed her a glass of water, urging her to drink up.

After work, I got a call from her, nothing serious, just a bout of food poisoning that landed her in the hospital.

When I arrived, she was lying in bed on an IV drip, looking pitiful if you ignored the milk and fruit her fellow patients had gifted her.

Beauty has its perks, no matter where you are.

Christine glared at me with her stunning eyes, “Heartless, aren’t you? I’m just standing up for you.”

“I’m not even mad, really.”

I’d grown used to it over time.

Christine peeled an orange, about to eat it, but snatched it away, “Doctor’s orders, no raw or cold food.”

She watched me eat the orange, huffing, “Who’s the father of Margaret’s baby, then?”

“Not Bryant.”

Bryant had cornered me in his car the previous night to talk, and it didn’t seem like he was lying.

And Margaret, if she were really carrying a Ferguson heir, she wouldn’t have just caused a scene with me.

She’d have caused an uproar in the Ferguson family, at the very least with my

father-in-law. Given his fondness for her, even if it angered Timothy to death, he’d fight for her recognition.

From what I’ve heard, my father-in-law only had eyes for his stepdaughter.

Compared to Margaret, Bryant was practically forgotten. He got no fatherly love, no maternal care.

“That settles it then.”

Christine, clutching her stomach, lay back down, “Yeah, Bryant wouldn’t be foolish enough to eagerly play dad.”

However, she didn’t expect her words to come back to bite