The Doormat Wife’s Ultimate Glow-Up novel Chapter 23

“Yes, it’s true.”

George sounded serious. “But I’ll need some time to pull together more evidence, just to make sure it all checks out. Ms. Meyer, can you wait?”

“How long?”

“Half a... no, at least a month. I hope you can give me a month.

“And in the meantime, please don’t let Mr. Ratcliff know you’ve found out about the surrogacy. If he gets even a hint, with his resources… well, you know. He could destroy our entire evidence trail without breaking a sweat.”

A whole month?

Reese hung up and sat there, deep in thought.

“Patient in bed 076, time for your IV. Can you tell me your name, please?”

A nurse walked in, glanced at the IV in Reese’s hand, and frowned. “What happened here? Did someone bump into you?”

Reese finally noticed the IV was out of place. It must’ve happened when Robbie tried to snatch the thermos earlier.

“Yeah.”

“Let me fix that for you.”

The nurse replaced the needle, then gave Reese a concerned look. “You look pale. Did you eat lunch?”

Reese thought of the tiny bit of soup left in the thermos. It hadn’t even taken the edge off her hunger.

She didn’t want to trouble Millie again, so she called her aunt Rosie.

Rosie was instantly worried when she heard Reese was in the hospital. After she got the details, she promised to bring soup that afternoon.

But when the door opened, Reese was surprised to see her uncle Dylon came along with Rosie.

“Reese, how are you feeling?”

Dylon glanced at the IV. “Did you tell the doctor you’re pregnant? Is this medicine okay for you?”

“I did,” Reese nodded.

She noticed the way Dylon hesitated and asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Uh…” Dylon looked a bit caught off guard. “Reese, did you hear they’re starting up the Eastside project again?”

Reese nodded. She knew all about it. The Ramos family had invested a fortune, only to hit a snag when they found rare minerals underground. The whole thing stalled, nearly bankrupting the company.

Now that it was back on, the family finally had a shot at turning things around. So why did Uncle Dylon look so anxious?

“They’re reorganizing the project, opening up new bids. Reese, you know our finances aren’t great… could you maybe talk to Mr. Ratcliff? See if he can help?”

So that’s what he wanted.

“How much are you short?”

“About ten million,” Dylon said, almost in a whisper.

Reese froze. That much?

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