Chapter 10 I'm Having Your Baby

Calm down, calm down— Vivian Donovan could already sense the Whitehead family's murderous intent rising. If she charged in now, she'd tear away all pretenses, and they'd want her dead more than ever. The Whiteheads might not be as powerful as the Jacobsons, but killing her wouldn't be hard. And her adoptive parents were still alive. If anything happened to her, what would become of them? How cruel their hearts are! Vivian clenched her fists, her eyes blazing with fury, but she took a deep breath, swallowed the storm inside, and turned to walk downstairs. After sitting on the sofa for a while, Lainey Whitehead and Lilith came down. "Vivian, one million is absolutely out of the question. But after discussing it, Mommy and Daddy have decided on this amount. However, you must transfer the QuickBite backend to me and leave Westmoor with your adoptive parents." Lilith looked down at Vivian with arrogance, placing the check before her. Vivian glanced at it—exactly one million. Slowly, she lifted her gaze. Her sharp, furious eyes locked onto Lilith, then shifted to Lainey. A cold smirk curled her red lips. "One million for the position of the Jacobson heir's bride? No wonder you're a businesswoman—your calculations are flawless." "Don't be ungrateful. This one million is more than you and your parents could earn in two lifetimes," Lilith snapped, enraged. "What my parents earn is none of your concern. But one thing I know for sure: I can make sure you'll never become the Jacobson heir's bride!" Vivian said coldly. "You... are insatiably greedy!" Lainey shook her head, filled with contempt. "How could I have given birth to a daughter like you? You're a disgrace." "Vivian, Mommy can go up to two million." "Two million isn't impossible—but I'll only change the QuickBite backend to yours." "No, you must leave Westmoor!" "Then there's nothing more to discuss." Without another word, Vivian turned and walked away. Seeing her actually leaving, Lilith panicked. "Fine! I agree!" Victorious but showing no joy, Vivian said, "I don't want the check. Transfer the money to my account, and write a statement saying this is compensation for donating bone marrow to Frederick Whitehead." How could Vivian not see through their schemes? Once the money was in her account, Lilith would take the QuickBite backend and immediately change the personal details. Then the next day, they'd report a mistaken transfer of two million. The police would come demanding it back. Then she'd lose both the money and her freedom—ruined. "You're overstepping," Lainey sneered. A cold smile spread across Vivian's impassive face. "If you refuse, I won't insist." "Let it go, Mommy. Let's just do it this way!" For the sake of her future, Lilith had no choice but to swallow her pride. Vivian then sat in the Whitehead home, waiting for the transfer, and signed a compensation agreement. Only after everything was settled did she hand over the QuickBite app to Lilith, who immediately changed the backend personal information. That day's delivery order had never reached the customer, so the backend data couldn't prove Vivian had saved Bernard Jacobson—only raise suspicion among the Jacobsons. After all, the hospital records bore Lilith's name, the surveillance footage had been erased, and the ring had been passed to Bernard through her. But once the app was in Lilith's hands, solid "evidence of rescue" would be formed—enough to prove she had "saved" Bernard Jacobson. "Once your adoptive father recovers, you'd better leave Westmoor quickly." Right after the backend update, Lilith stood tall, looking down at Vivian. "This city doesn't belong to you." As if Westmoor were the Whiteheads' private domain. Vivian's expression turned icy. She cast a cold glance at the two women, said nothing, and turned to leave. After leaving the Whitehead home, she didn't go straight to the hospital. Instead, she took a taxi back to her hometown. At the local police station, Vivian inquired about the accident. The police said the driver hadn't been caught. Suspicious, she asked for details about that day and the license plate number, secretly recording the conversation. That same day, she returned to Westmoor by bus, contacted Shield Detective Agency—a trusted private investigator—paid a 20,000 deposit, provided the lead on the driver, and hired them to investigate the hit-and-run case involving her adoptive parents. The Whiteheads were vicious and ruthless. She had to uncover the truth, bring the real culprit to justice, and give her parents the justice they deserved. At the same time, she had offended Bernard Jacobson, and the Whiteheads now wanted her dead. To be safe, she needed financial security—a lifeline for herself. That was also why she agreed to take two million from the Whiteheads for the QuickBite backend. Because Vivian knew: if she demanded too much and pushed them too far, there would be only one fate left—death. After handling everything, Vivian dragged her exhausted body back to her rental apartment, only to meet Scott Cross, Bernard's subordinate. "Ms. Donovan, Bernard is waiting for you."