My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 271: Unbroken

Grace cleared her throat. "I’ve seen the report. He’s telling the truth, Greg. I got a copy of it from his assistant last night. It’s being reviewed by another lab now for confirmation, but... all signs point to a falsified result in the first test."

Greg’s breath caught in his chest.

"She’s not your sister," Ric said, voice low. "That lie destroyed her. It destroyed you. It destroyed me. I lied!!!" Ric burst out in tears.

"I fooled Cammy, and everyone, and most importantly, myself! I can no longer make her suffer like this! I am so so sorry, you don’t have to forgive me, but please help Cammy!" Ric pleaded.

Greg stood abruptly, turning away, gripping the back of the chair in front of him with white knuckles.

"She pushed me away because of that test. She left because of that test," he muttered, almost to himself.

Ric nodded, guilt heavy on his face. "And she kept punishing herself over it. Even now, she’s alone, locked in a hospital bed, thinking she doesn’t deserve anything good. Thinking she lost you forever. Greg, you have to see her. Talk to her. Help her fight this."

Greg remained silent for a moment. His mind reeled with everything that had just been said. Rage, regret, and heartbreak twisted through him in a storm he had long buried.

Grace stepped forward. "Greg... we don’t have much time. The legal system is against her. Her mental and physical condition is deteriorating. You walking in and showing her that you still care—it might be the thing that saves her."

Greg finally turned around, his voice hollow. "She didn’t want me anymore."

"She thought she couldn’t have you," Ric said. "She thought loving you was wrong."

Greg looked down, his fists clenched at his sides.

"I ruined so much," Ric added. "But I’m trying to make it right now. Please, Greg. Help me save her."

Greg didn’t respond right away. His eyes flicked back to Ric—who now looked more like a broken man than the confident rival he once knew. He looked at Grace, who simply nodded once.

He exhaled slowly and said in a low voice, "You sure, seeing me could help her?"

"You never left her heart," Ric said, then added, "T-There’s one more thing. I found your signed marriage contract, which was never registered. I asked Ellie about it, and she explained to me what happened, and I kept it.

I didn’t register our marriage as well, because I want to wait for the time when Cammy would open her heart to me. But after seeing her run away with Dylan without me, I knew that moment that what I was waiting for would never happen."

Then, without another word, Greg turned and walked out of the room.

Ric collapsed back into his seat, emotionally drained, but a flicker of hope returned to his eyes.

He had done what he could. Now, it was up to Greg.

Greg’s car tore through the streets like a bullet, weaving between vehicles with reckless precision. The tires screeched around corners, the engine roared with every gear shift, and inside the car, Grace gripped the armrest so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"Greg!" she shouted, heart pounding. "Unless we’re being chased by a convoy of assassins, slow the hell down! Cammy’s not going anywhere—she’s on bedrest, remember?! I’d prefer to see her alive—and get there alive too!"

Greg didn’t respond. His jaw clenched, eyes laser-focused on the road ahead. He did ease off the accelerator slightly—just enough to avoid crashing or getting flagged by traffic enforcers—but his urgency didn’t waver.

When they reached the hospital, Greg didn’t even wait for the engine to die. He leapt out of the vehicle and sprinted across the marble floors of the lobby, his footsteps pounding like thunder. Grace scrambled behind him, heels clacking as she tried to keep up.

"VVIP floor," he barked to the nurse at the reception, flashing a glare that dared her to question him.

Greg burst into Cammy’s room like a storm.

Everything froze.

There she was—Cammy. Pale but alive, sitting up in bed, spooning soup into her mouth. Eve was beside her, adjusting the tray table. Richard was on the nearby couch, typing on his laptop. Monica was sipping her coffee while watching TV.

The warm lighting, the soft hum of monitors, the muted scent of antiseptic—it all vanished for Greg.

All he could see was her.

Without thinking, without breathing, Greg rushed forward.

Eve yelped and jerked the overbed table away just in time before it was sent flying.

Greg reached Cammy and wrapped her in his arms, burying his face into her neck, clutching her like a man who had been underwater too long and had finally found air.

Cammy froze, her spoon halfway to her mouth, eyes wide.

"Greg?" she whispered in disbelief.

But he didn’t let go. Not yet.

When he finally pulled back, his hands remained on her shoulders, his eyes red, voice cracking.

"I’m sorry," he choked out. "I’m so sorry, Cammy. I was a damn fool for believing a piece of paper. I should have—I should have known better."

Before she could speak, he leaned in—and kissed her.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t tentative.

It was a kiss drenched in what seemed like years of longing, of guilt, of buried love that had never truly died. A kiss that trembled with a thousand unsaid words, a thousand wounds, and a desperate hope that it wasn’t too late.

Cammy’s eyes fluttered shut, lips parting as the pain in her chest gave way to something warmer, something blinding.

Eve gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Monica blinked in shock. Richard stood up in disbelief.

"Oh my God," Monica murmured from the corner, eyes wide, face pale.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing, Gregory?!" Richard thundered, now storming toward them with fury in every step.

Greg pulled away from the kiss just as Grace stepped in front of Richard, her hand extended.

"Wait!" she shouted. "You need to see this first!"

She shoved a folder into his hands. Richard tore it open, eyes scanning the DNA report inside. His face twisted as the truth hit him like a truck. His knees buckled slightly, and Eve hurried to his side, guiding him back to the couch.

He slumped down, eyes locked on the paper, breathing ragged.

"I don’t understand..." he muttered, shaking his head. "They’re not... They’re not related?"

Grace nodded solemnly. "Ric ran a separate test. This one’s verified by two labs. The first was fake. Ric said Monica did it. She faked the results."

The folder slipped from Richard’s trembling hands and hit the floor. Monica dove for it, and he skin turned white upon seeing the content.

Monica grabbed her bag, turned sharply toward the door—but Richard’s voice exploded across the room.

"TAKE HER!"

The guards outside the room burst in, startled by the roar.

"Take that damn woman! She’s a liar, a fraud! She orchestrated everything! She destroyed lives!"

Monica made a run for it, but the guards caught her just as she reached the hallway. She screamed and kicked, but they held her fast. Her expensive handbag fell to the floor, contents spilling out.

"Let me go! I did it for you, Richard! For us!" Monica shrieked as they dragged her out.

But Richard wasn’t listening.

He clutched at his chest, gasping for breath. His hand trembled as he reached for his pocket, trying to find his medication.

"Eve—Eve—I can’t... breathe..." he rasped.

"Richard!" Eve cried, shouting toward the hallway. "Nurse! We need help in here!"

A code alert went out instantly. The nurses rushed in, followed by a doctor. Grace stepped back, shaking with adrenaline.

Cammy, still in bed, had tears running down her face—not from fear, but from the sheer weight of everything unfolding around her.

Greg remained beside her, hand in hers, unwilling to let go again.

As Richard was given oxygen and stabilized, the chaos slowly ebbed.

Cammy looked at Greg, voice barely audible. "Is it really... true? We’re not siblings?"

Greg nodded, wiping a tear from her cheek. "It’s true. I swear on my life. I was lied to, you were betrayed, and we both suffered because of it. But not anymore, Cammy. Not anymore."

She sobbed, the relief too overwhelming. "I thought I lost you forever."

"You’ll never lose me again," he whispered, holding her close, careful of her belly. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

Outside, the hallway echoed with Monica’s screams as she was taken away.

Inside the room, love—tainted, buried, but unbroken—finally found its place again.