Chapter 274

Vivian Lockhart and Evelyn Whitmore arrived at the exclusive maternity clinic where Vivian regularly received her prenatal care.

The waiting room was quiet, filled with the soft hum of hushed conversations. Evelyn kept a firm grip on Vivian's wrist, monitoring her pulse with practiced ease.

"Your pulse is steady, Miss Vivian. The babies are fine. You can't let a nightmare shake you like this. Let’s just stay positive, alright?"

Vivian nodded, but unease still coiled in her chest.

"I know they're strong. I've been careful. But I can't shake this feeling—like something's wrong."

"Don’t say that!" Evelyn scolded gently. "You trust my family’s medical knowledge, don’t you? I’ve treated everything from fevers to broken bones with herbs alone. There’s nothing to fear."

Vivian exhaled. "You’re right. With you here, I’m in the best hands."

She stepped into the examination room, and soon, the results confirmed what Evelyn had assured her—both babies were healthy, thriving despite Vivian’s recent stress. They were resilient, untouched by her restless nights.

"Ms. Lockhart," the doctor said, "in a week, you’ll enter your second trimester. The nausea will fade, your energy will return, and your babies will grow stronger. You’ll need looser clothing soon. Don’t forget your supplements, and rest well."

After prescribing vitamins and calcium, the doctor dismissed her.

Vivian emerged, waving the report at Evelyn. "You were right! They’re perfect. I worried for nothing."

Evelyn beamed. "I told you! The Lockhart family is rising again—and soon, two new heirs will join the legacy."

They left the clinic, waiting by the curb for a cab.

But Vivian’s instincts prickled. She resisted the urge to glance back.

"What’s wrong?" Evelyn asked.

"We’re being followed."

Vivian kept her voice light, her expression relaxed, but her grip on Evelyn’s arm tightened in warning.

"What?!" Evelyn stiffened, eyes darting. "By who?"

"Don’t look," Vivian murmured. "Just act normal."

Evelyn swallowed hard, pulling Vivian closer. "Is it an enemy? I’ll protect you, but you need to run if—"

"Not an enemy," Vivian cut in. "They’ve had plenty of chances to strike. This is something else."

"Then who—?"

At the corner, Vivian suddenly stopped. Without turning, she called out, "Enough hiding. Show yourself."

A tall figure in black stepped from behind a signpost, removing his cap.

Vivian’s breath caught.

Nathan Prescott—Ethan Blackwood’s closest friend, Olivia Sinclair’s staunch defender, and heir to the Prescott fortune—had been tailing her the entire time.