The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife novel Chapter 166

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First Taste of Freedom

On the second floor, Clarissa stood at her bedroom window, watching the procession with narrowed eyes.

She saw the thin and fragile Alina being guided to the ambulance with the help of Mrs. Helen and the paramedics.

She saw Ms. Fontaine and Dr. Halvorsen escorting protectively.

And she saw Daniel standing at the doorway with tense posture and clenched fists.

“Hospital,” Clarissa thought with calculation. “She’s going to the hospital.”

Her mind worked quickly.

Hospital meant out of her reach.

Hospital meant Alina would be watched by people she didn’t control. And that would make it difficult for her to administer the abortifacient she possessed.

Clarissa couldn’t let Alina actually give birth to Daniel’s child. She wouldn’t let that baby strengthen Alina’s position in this

family.

“I must act quickly,” Clarissa thought again. “Before it’s too late.”

But how could she administer it if Alina was in the hospital?

Clarissa stared at the ambulance with calculating eyes.

There had to be a way.

She would find a way.

“Mama!”

Junior’s small voice made Clarissa turn quickly.

Junior stood in the doorway of her room with wide eyes and a pale face.

He had clearly just seen Alina being taken to the ambulance from his own bedroom window.

“Junior,” Clarissa said with a controlled voice while kneeling in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw Alina being taken to the ambulance,” Junior said with a trembling voice “She… she looked very sick. Is… is her pregnancy making her sicker?”

Clarissa felt something cold in her chest.

She could see the concern on Junior’s face–genuine concern, not hatred or indifference.

This was dangerous.

Junior was starting to sympathize with Alina.

“Alina has been sick for a long time, darling,” Clarissa said with a voice made gentle. “And maybe her illness is getting worse now. That’s why she needs to go to the hospital to get better care.”

Clarissa touched Junior’s cheek gently.

“But you don’t need to worry, Alina will be fine,” she continued with a manipulative tone. “And you don’t need to think about her. Just focus on your school and on Mama who is always here for you.”

Junior didn’t answer.

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He just stared at the window with glistening eyes.

Clarissa stood and watched the ambulance that was beginning to move slowly out of the yard.

Junior followed and stood beside her–his small eyes watching the ambulance moving farther away.

Suddenly, without warning, Junior’s small hand lifted.

Tears began falling down his cheeks.

“Mama!” he whispered with a broken voice–a voice full of sadness he himself didn’t understand.

Clarissa froze.

Her brain screamed with loud alarms.

Junior had just called Alina “Mama.”

Not with a tone of hatred or mockery.

But with genuine sadness.

“Junior,” “Clarissa said quickly while kneeling in front of him and taking his shoulders. “Are you sad seeing Alina leave?”

Junior was silent.

His face showed deep confusion–like a child who didn’t understand what he was feeling.

He hated Alina.

And Clarissa had told him about Alina’s badness over and over again.

Alina was evil. Alina caused his accident. Alina wanted to replace him with a new baby.

But why did his heart feel pain seeing Alina taken away?

Why was there an empty feeling in his chest–as if something important was missing?

Junior cried harder now–not understanding what was happening with his own feelings.

Clarissa felt sudden panic.

Junior was starting to remember.

Or at least, his old feelings toward Alina were starting to resurface.

This couldn’t happen.

“Darling,” Clarissa said quickly while hugging Junior tightly. “Mama knows you’re shocked. Seeing the ambulance must make you remember your own accident. It’s natural if you feel scared or sad.”

Junior fell silent in her embrace.

Was that true?

Was he sad because of trauma from his own accident?

Not because of Alina?

“Maybe,” Junior whispered with an uncertain voice.

“That must be it,” Clarissa said with strong conviction. “You’re just traumatized, darling. That’s normal. But Alina will be fine. And you don’t need to worry about her.”

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Junior nodded slowly on Clarissa’s shoulder–trying to convince himself that it was true.

That his anxiety was only because of trauma from the accident that made him lose his memory.

Not because he… missed Alina or was afraid of losing her.

But in Junior’s deepest heart–in the place where memory couldn’t be completely erased–there was a small voice whispering that it wasn’t the truth.

In her luxurious apartment, Margaret sat in front of her laptop with a screen displaying the CCTV feed from Blackwood mansion.

She watched the ambulance move out of the gate with narrowed eyes.

“So they managed to take her out,” she whispered with a cold tone.

Her mind worked quickly.

Alina in the hospital meant she would be examined by independent doctors.

It meant there would be medical reports.

It meant there would be people asking questions.

And if Alina was declared to have experienced violence in the Blackwood family home…

Margaret felt something cold in her spine.

The Blackwood name would be tarnished.

The reputation built over decades would be destroyed.

And Daniel–her son–would be seen as a domestic violence perpetrator.

“No,” Margaret whispered with a loud and final voice. “That won’t happen.”

Her hand moved to the phone with quick and firm movements.

She pressed a number she had memorized–a number she rarely used but was always available when she needed it.

The phone was answered after the third ring.

“Mrs. Blackwood,” a professional middle–aged man’s voice. “This is a surprise. It’s been a long time since you last called ”

“Dr. Whitmore,” Margaret said with a calm voice but urgency behind it. “I need your help.”

Dr. Gregory Whitmore–director of St. Catherine’s Medical Center.

A man whose career Margaret had saved fifteen years ago when he faced malpractice charges that nearly destroyed him.

Margaret and Whitmore were college friends. And secretly they always helped each other.

Fifteen years ago, Margaret secretly provided the best lawyers and paid a very large settlement to ensure Dr. Whitmore’s reputation remained intact.

And since then, Dr. Whitmore had owed a very large debt of gratitude to Margaret Blackwood.

“Of course,” Dr. Whitmore answered with a careful voice. “What can I help you with?”

“My daughter–in–law–Alina Blackwood–will be brought to your hospital in a few minutes,” Margaret said with a businesslike tone. “She is pregnant and in a… complicated condition.”

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She paused, choosing words carefully.

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“There will be a comprehensive medical examination,” she continued with a very calm voice. “And I need to ensure that the examination results are… accurate.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

“Alina’s medical condition must be explained as purely due to pregnancy complications,” Margaret said firmly. “Not because of

external factors. Not because of family environment.”

The message was clear.

Don’t let the medical report mention violence or abuse.

Frame everything as a purely health issue.

And Dr. Whitmore immediately understood this.

“I will do what I can,” Dr. Whitmore said reluctantly. “You don’t need to worry.”

“One more thing,” Margaret said with a tone that became more serious. “I want you to monitor Alina’s situation closely. And report to me if there are… developments I need to know about.”

“That might violate patient privacy-”

“Dr. Whitmore,” Margaret interrupted with a very cold voice, “don’t make me remind you about the debt you have. Do what I ask. Or I will ensure that the secrets I kept fifteen years ago are no longer kept safely.”

A long silence.

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