My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge
Chapter 270: It Was A Setup

Chapter 270: It Was A Setup

Cammy stirred softly, her eyelids fluttering open to a dim room basked in the warm glow of the afternoon sun. At first, her vision blurred—then shapes became clearer.

The scent of coffee lingered in the air. She saw Eve by a small counter, carefully pouring coffee into a cup, and Richard typing on his laptop at a sleek desk not far from the hospital bed.

She blinked. The room was grand—lavish, in fact. A plush velvet couch sat near the window, heavy drapes framed the tall glass panels, and the linens on her bed were softer than anything she remembered from her time in jail.

"Where... where am I?" Her voice cracked, weak from dehydration.

Richard immediately sprang up from his laptop and rushed to her side. Eve turned quickly, her eyes widening as she hit the nurse call button without hesitation.

"You’re safe, Cammy," Richard said, his voice trembling with emotion. "You’re in the hospital. You collapsed in jail—you were bleeding badly."

Cammy’s eyes widened as panic surged through her. Her hand flew to her abdomen.

"My baby!" she gasped, her voice rising as she tried to sit up.

"Careful, careful—lie back down!" Eve rushed to her side and gently pushed her back to the pillows, her voice firm but gentle. "The baby is okay, but you’re on strict bed rest. You have to stay still."

Cammy’s hand remained on her belly as her breaths came fast and shallow. "Thank God..." she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "I thought... I thought I lost..."

Richard stood frozen for a beat, overwhelmed. Then he sank down beside her bed, his voice thick. "Cammy... you didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell me you were pregnant."

She glanced at him, tears still rolling, unable to speak.

"I could’ve helped you," Richard continued, anger and hurt mixing in his tone. "I could’ve used my connections, hired the best people. I held back because I thought you wanted to go through the legal process. I thought you wanted to do it the right way."

He looked away, blinking hard. "I could’ve tortured that bastard, made Duncan kneel and beg. I could’ve made him disappear if that’s what it took to protect you and Dylan."

Cammy sobbed quietly, too drained to explain, too broken to justify.

"I’m here now," Richard said, holding her hand. "You don’t have to go through this alone anymore. You can rely on me. Always."

Before Cammy could respond, the door opened and in came a nurse, followed by a young resident doctor, and then a tall, seasoned-looking professor with graying hair and calm, authoritative eyes.

"Miss Watson, good afternoon," the professor greeted. "I’m Professor Walker. I’m one of the attending OB specialists here. We’re just here to check on you and the baby."

The nurse moved quickly, checking Cammy’s blood pressure and adjusting her IV line while the resident listened to her heartbeat and asked her a few gentle questions.

Professor Walker stood at the foot of the bed, reviewing her chart on a tablet. "The good news is the baby’s heartbeat is strong and steady. That tells us the fetus is stable for now.

But, Miss Watson... you were severely malnourished, dangerously dehydrated, and under extreme stress. All these factors nearly caused a miscarriage."

Cammy looked away, ashamed, her hand still cradling her belly protectively.

"You’ll need at least a month of full bed rest," the professor continued, "and a strict nutritional and hydration plan. No stress. No physical movement unless approved by your attending. We’ll be monitoring both you and the baby every day."

Richard stepped forward. "Doctor... is it possible to keep her here for the entire month? I mean... instead of going back to jail?"

The professor looked at him, then at Cammy. "We can file a medical request stating that the patient’s condition requires close, uninterrupted observation in a clinical setting. If approved by the court, she can remain under hospital care for as long as necessary."

Richard exhaled, nodding, relief washing over his face. "Do it. Please. File it as soon as possible."

"We’ve already prepared the paperwork," the resident added. "Once signed, it will be submitted through our liaison to the legal department."

The nurse gently fixed Cammy’s blanket and offered her a soft, comforting smile. "We’ll take care of you. Don’t worry about anything but resting now."

The medical team exited quietly, leaving Cammy, Richard, and Eve in the silence that followed.

Cammy’s tears slipped silently down her cheeks. "I didn’t mean for any of this to happen..."

"We know," Eve said softly, brushing her hair away from her face. "What matters now is that you and your baby are safe."

Richard leaned closer, gripping her hand tightly. "And that you’re not alone anymore."

Cammy nodded weakly, her chest tightening. Her world was broken and spinning—but for now, for just a moment, she was safe.

**********

On the other side of the city, the cold steel gates of the detention facility groaned as they opened.

Greg stepped through with a calm but unreadable expression, dressed in a dark button-down shirt and slacks, looking more like a businessman than someone about to confront a former rival.

Beside him walked Atty. Grace Perez, who had arranged the meeting, though not without much pleading on Ric’s behalf.

The guards led them down a sterile corridor until they reached the visitation room. Ric was already there, seated behind the thick glass, pale and visibly thinner, with a bruise forming on his jaw and weariness dragging down his once-arrogant posture.

But the moment he saw Greg walk in, Ric’s eyes shimmered with emotion. He stood up quickly, then sat back down, visibly shaken.

"Greg..." Ric breathed, his voice cracking. He hadn’t seen him in months. Maybe years.

Greg sat across from him, arms folded, his expression hard as granite. "You said you had something important to tell me. Say it. I’m here."

Ric leaned in, placing both hands on the glass. "Please, help Cammy. She’s suffering. She’s pregnant. She’s lost Dylan. And if she goes back to jail, she might lose the baby too."

Greg didn’t even blink. "My father and Grace are already doing their best. I don’t see why I need to get involved."

"She needs you," Ric said desperately. "She needs someone she trusts—someone who once knew her better than anyone."

Greg scoffed but remained quiet.

Ric’s eyes welled up with tears. His voice dropped to a whisper, trembling and raw. "Greg, listen to me. The DNA test—that one that said you and Cammy are siblings—it was a setup."

Greg’s eyes narrowed, his body stiffening. "What did you say?"

Ric leaned closer, gripping the edge of the glass. "It was fake. Monica swapped your father’s sample and Peter’s. So, just to make sure that Monica is not manipulating me, too, I took a sample from you... your hair... and a strand from Cammy’s hairbrush."

He swallowed hard.

"I sent it to a private lab abroad—paid for double verification. The results came back. You and Cammy... you’re not related. Not even remotely."

For a moment, the room fell into a heavy silence.

Greg’s expression faltered, just slightly. He looked at Grace, who had remained silent until now, arms folded.