Ingrid woke up to the sound of beep-beep from the machine, her head drowsy and heavy, and her eyes sloppy.
"My babies," She looked over to try and see the babies in their cribs but was met with an empty cribs.
"Wh-what? My babies?" Her voice rose and she looked around, her eyes jamming with a soft white paper on the table beside her.
"What the shit...?" She picked it up and saw it was a cheque, a cheque of a hundred million dollars, signed by Alistar Ashworth; his signature glaring in her face.
"That bastard! My babies!"
With new found strength, she pulled the IV drips from her arms and staggered her way to the door.
Opening the door, she didn't see anyone, not even Sebastian. It was like she was the only one here.
"My babies." She muttered like a chant.
Her body was weak and she almost fell multiple times, bit as she got to the reception area, the receptionist that was on duty saw her and was suprised, recognising her as she was brought in the night before in heavy labour. She called out to ingrid,
"Miss, miss you can't leave." The receptionist shouted as Ingrid made her way to the door, still chanting, "my babies,"
The receptionist made a call to Debbie as she knew she was the one assigned to treat the pregnant woman who was admitted the night before who was asked to work overtime by Alistair because of Ingrid.
"Doctor Debbie, miss Ivor is downstairs, she is making her way to the door!" She said in panic.
"Then what the hell are you doing? Calling me? Try to hold her till I get there." Debbie ordered and hung up.
The receptionist rushed to Ingrid and held her but was shoved back by the seemingly weak Ingrid.
Ingrid stated at her with blank but scary eyes,
"Where are my babies?" Her voice finally cracked and her eyes moistened.
"I don't know ma'am." The receptionist replied and tried to hold Ingrid this time with both hands and she caught Ingrid successfully.
"Of you don't know, then let me go! My babies need me." Ingrid became hysterical as the receptionist dragged her to the couch in the reception area, still holding her even though she received some scratches and slaps.
"Miss Ivor!" Debbie shouted as she saw Ingrid state, her scattered, lips cracked and face deathly pale.
Ingrid finally broke into tears when she saw Debbie.
"Doctor where are my babies?" She cried and clung unto Debbie when she stood in front of her.
Debbie could not reply because she knew that Alistair was with the babies. She had guessed from the events Alistair and Ingrid relationship and knew how it will hurt Ingrid.
"My babies! That devil faced bastard took them right? I'm sure he took them, tell him to return my babies to me...." Ingrid trailed off because Debbie injected hee with a sedative.
"Come let's carry her." She said to the receptionist and they carried Ingrid to her ward.
The receptionist looked at Ingrid with pity and left.
"I'm sorry, miss Ivor," Debbie said looking at Ingrid with pity, "Maybe you are not that strange after all." She muttered remembering Ingrid antenatal days and how she felt Ingrid will nevrrmake a good mother with her careless look and strange way of behaving.
She sighed before leaving the room, with a gloomy expression.
Alistair sat in the dining room with Daphane opposite him, they were having dinner and Daphane was still confused.
Since yesterday night that Alistair brought those babies back, she had been asking about their parents but he refused to say a word, just saying if she bothers him, he'll throw her out.
But she couldn't keep herself from asking,
"Alistair, who's children are those?"
"They are my children." Alistair opened his mouth and placed a piece of the food while answering calmly.
"I beg your pardon?" Daphane asked with her germania accent. She was the type of girl that was sophisticated to the core, never making use of vulgar language even in provocation, she had this refined and seductive type of beauty that make one feel she couldn't dirtied but can't control himself from touching her.
"My children." Alistair repeated and not to his surprise,
Daphane dropped her spoon without a clank sound.
"Alistair I just asked a question and if you still don't want to tell me the don't instead of giving this kind of...bad excuse." Daphane replied because she was so sure that he couldn't touch another woman, he doesn't even know how to have sex. She was his specialist, his doctor and fiancee, and she knew about his case all to well.
"If don't believe me, then leave it." With Alistair words, Daphane knew he was serious.
"Alistair..." She was at a loss of words.
Not knowing what to say she dropped her napkin and stood up, walking out of the house directly, without any goodbye, unlike her because no matter how angry Daphane is she tends to leave with a goodbye when she's leaving.
The sun had barely lifted when the grand doors of the Alistair mansion slammed open. The servants flinched as Shyna stormed in, her heels snapping against the polished floor. Her fury was like a storm wrapped in perfume and pearls.
She found Alistair in the sitting room, leaning casually against the armrest, a glass of whiskey in hand though it was barely past eight.
"What have you done?" Shyna demanded.
Alistair didn't look surprised. "Good morning to you too, mother."
"Don't you mother me!" Her voice cracked through the air. "I just received word that you brought home two newborns. Tell me it isn't true."
"It's true," he said flatly.
Shyna blinked, momentarily stunned. "You've finally lost your mind."
Alistair's expression didn't change. "They're mine."
"Yours?" she repeated, disbelief and disgust dripping from her tongue. "With that… girl? That lowlife thief who tried to rob this very house? Or you think you covered tge incident so well, i wouldn't find out? "
"She wasn't stealing," Alistair said quietly, though his voice carried warning.
"Oh, spare me the defense!" Shyna snapped. "You're going to return those bastards to wherever you found them and fix this disaster before the press catches wind of it. Daphane called me last night in tears; she said you've lost all sense!"
"She should worry about herself," Alistair said coldly.
"Don't you dare speak that way to me," she hissed, stepping closer. "You are an Ashworth. You will not stain our name because of some street girl. Send them back, marry Daphane, and move on."
"I'm not marrying Daphane," Alistair said simply.
For a heartbeat, silence stretched between them. Shyna's face hardened, her carefully painted lips trembling. "You will do as I say."
Alistair met her gaze, calm but unyielding. "Those children carry my blood, Mother. I won't abandon them."
"Blood?" Shyna spat, her voice trembling with fury. "They're a curse, Alistair! Her blood will ruin you. You think you're doing something noble, but all you're doing is tying yourself to a woman who belongs in the gutter!"
He stood now, towering over her, his storm-grey eyes colder than ever. "Enough."
But Shyna didn't stop. "That woman bewitched you, used her filth to drag this family down! You'll regret this, Alistair. You'll regret it when the world laughs at the name you've turned to dust!"
Alistair turned away, walking toward the stairs. "The world doesn't scare me, Mother," he said quietly. "But losing what's mine does."
He left her there, trembling, furious, and terrified of the son she could no longer control.