One Night Stand With My Ex's Uncle-Chapter 160: Blood and Fear

William Murphy stood there, supported by Catherine and Layla, with Phillip and Jack flanking them.

The entire Murphy clan advanced toward us like an approaching storm.

Mary’s face turned ashen. My heart hammered against my ribs as sweat slicked my palms. I’d only called Jack —I hadn’t expected him to bring the entire Murphy family. They must have already been on their way when I called.

Jack’s POV

I stood frozen in the sterile hospital corridor, watching everything unravel before my eyes. The call from Lucy had been frantic—my mother and Elizabeth Shaw physically fighting in the hospital. But nothing prepared me for the scene we walked into.

"Who did you say is dead?"

Grandfather William’s voice boomed down the hallway, silencing everyone instantly.

My mother turned, her face a mess of smeared makeup and scratches, her perfect hair disheveled beyond recognition. She tilted her head slightly, avoiding Grandfather’s burning gaze. Something about her defiant posture made my stomach tighten with dread.

Before she could answer, Grandfather lifted his walking cane and brought it down against her shoulder with a sharp crack.

"I should beat some sense into you, you ungrateful woman!" His voice shook with fury. "Cursing your own brother—how did I raise such a venomous creature?"

My breath caught in my throat. In all my years, I’d never seen Grandfather strike anyone, let alone his own daughter. The shock of it paralyzed me.

Rachel stepped forward, her usually composed face twisted with anger.

"Mr. Murphy, Mrs. Simpson not only cursed Marcus, but also wished death upon my boss and her babies. If she hadn’t upset Ms. Shaw, her water might not have broken early. And when Ms. Shaw went into the delivery room, she was in a terrible emotional state—Mrs. Shaw was nearly hysterical with worry. Yet Mrs. Simpson followed them and continued saying that Ms. Shaw and the babies should go join Marcus."

A chill crept up my spine, settling at the base of my neck. I couldn’t comprehend what I was hearing.

"Mom?" My voice cracked with disbelief. "How could you say such things?"

My mother didn’t even look at me. Her eyes remained fixed on Grandfather, something ugly and defiant twisting her features.

Grandfather struck her again, his weathered face contorted with rage.

"You monster!"

My mother flinched but squared her shoulders. "I didn’t say anything wrong! Since Marcus is gone, the living matter most now. What’s wrong with me trying to protect Marcus’s assets for the Murphy family? Dad, you’ve lost your mind-how can you be certain the children in Anna Shaw’s belly are Marcus’s? Don’t you remember that during that time, Marcus was abroad and never returned? Where did Anna Shaw’s babies come from? How could they possibly be Marcus’s?"

Each word from her mouth felt like acid burning through my chest. I closed my eyes, unable to watch anymore, a deep sense of shame washing over me.

"Mom! Please stop talking!" I begged, my voice strangled.

Grandfather jabbed his finger at her, his entire body trembling. "Shut your mouth! Let me tell you-Marcus himself told me that the babies in Anna’s womb are his. If Marcus said it, then it’s true-they are his. Get out of here! Whether Marcus is alive or dead has nothing to do with you anymore! Get out!"

"My last name is Murphy," my mother hissed, her eyes narrowing to slits.

"Even if I die, I’m still your daughter and a member of the Murphy family.

Don’t think you can keep Marcus’s fortune to yourselves—I deserve my share!"

My throat closed up, making it hard to breathe. The naked greed in her voice made her unrecognizable to me.

Grandfather turned to Clayton, his voice ice-cold. "Remove her. Now."

Clayton nodded, grabbing my mother’s injured arm and yanking her toward the exit. She cried out in pain, finally silenced. Lucy scurried after them, her face pale with fear. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Elizabeth’s POV

I paced the hospital corridor, each step more unsteady than the last. The harsh fluorescent lights amplified every shadow on my face as I stared at the imposing doors of the delivery room.

Behind those doors, my daughter fought not just for her life, but for the lives of her unborn twins.

"Mrs. Shaw?" A nurse emerged, her scrubs spattered with what I desperately hoped wasn’t blood. "The twins are in breech position. We need to perform an emergency C-section immediately."

My knees nearly buckled beneath me.

"Then do it! Whatever it takes!"

The nurse’s expression darkened.

"There’s a complication. Ms. Shaw is extremely distressed and uncooperative. We can’t proceed safely while she’s in this state."

Anna’s agonized scream pierced through the swinging doors, sending ice through my veins. The sound was primal, raw-the cry of a wounded animal. My hand flew to my throat, which had suddenly constricted so tightly I could barely breathe.

William Murphy approached, leaning heavily on his walking cane. His weathered face was etched with remorse as he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Elizabeth, this is all my fault," he said, voice cracking with emotion. "I failed to raise my daughter properly.

I’m so sorry that you and Annie have suffered because of Mary’s behavior.

Please forgive me."

I could barely speak through my tears.

"I’m only worried about Annie and the babies. If anything happens to them, I couldn’t bear to go on living."

William sank onto a bench, his shoulders slumped with the weight of our shared fear. "Annie will be fine.

We have to believe in her. She’s always been strongshe’ll get through this too."

Another nurse rushed toward us with clipboard and pen, thrusting them into my trembling hands. "We need your consent for the emergency procedure."

My fingers shook so violently I could barely sign my name, nearly dropping the pen twice. The letters blurred through my tears as I scrawled my signature across the bottom line.

"Someone needs to go in there and calm her," the nurse insisted. "We can’t proceed with surgery while she’s this agitated."

"I—" My voice broke as I backed away from the delivery room doors. "Im afraid I’ll just make things worse if I go in. Seeing her in pain... I’ll fall apart completely..." The admission tore from me, shame burning my cheeks even as I acknowledged my own weakness.

Catherine stepped forward decisively.

"I’ll go. Elizabeth, don’t worry. I’ll stay with Annie and make sure she and the babies come through this safely."

Relief flooded through me, mixed with crushing guilt that I wasn’t strong enough to be the mother my daughter needed right now. "Yes, yes, Catherine should go. Annie will listen to you-you two have always been so close."

Catherine’s POV

When I entered the delivery room, my heart contracted painfully at the sight before me. Anna was lying on the operating table, her fingers gripping the edges with white-knuckled intensity. Her face was terrifyingly pale, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the surgical lights above, as if her soul had already departed her body.

"Anna, I’m here. It’s Catherine," I said, gently cradling her face between my hands. But her eyes remained motionless, as though she couldn’t hear me at all.

The anesthesiologist approached me with barely contained urgency. "You need to convince her to cooperate. We must perform the C-section immediately. The amniotic fluid is gone-the babies could be in distress if we don’t act now."

A nurse behind her nodded gravely.

"She’s not responding to any of us. It’s like she’s locked herself away somewhere we can’t reach."

Hearing this, alarm shot through me. I wasn’t familiar with childbirth, but I understood the gravity of the situation.

I patted her cheeks lightly, my heart twisting with pain as I realized there was only one way to bring her back.

"Anna Shaw, you need to snap out of this. Marcus isn’t dead," I stated with conviction, despite not knowing if this was true. But saving lives took priority now. "Listen to me-Marcus Murphy is *not* dead!"

I noticed a slight trembling of her eyelashes and seized the moment.

’Trust me, my uncle isn’t dead. He’s alive, Anna. *Alive!*" I repeated the word "alive" over and over, watching

as each repetition seemed to pull her back from the abyss of despair like a lifeline.

The doctors noticed her response and collective relief swept through the room. The chief obstetrician immediately took charge: "She’s responding. Ms. Murphy, please continue. Everyone else, prepare for surgery immediately."

I continued holding Anna’s face, my voice both firm and gentle: "Anna, you need to be strong right now. Those babies are waiting to meet their mother. You can’t give up on them now." I could feel my own voice shaking, but I had to remain strong.

’Think about the babies, Anna. Can you hear me? Think about your babies. They’re coming now—your babies."

I watched as focus gradually returned to Anna’s eyes, and her jaw relaxed.

Her breathing pattern changed, becoming deeper and more regular. In that moment, the weight lifted from my chest.

"She’s letting go, she’s letting go!" The anesthesiologist exclaimed with relief.

’Thank goodness—I was getting seriously worried."

I continued encouraging her: "I can see you hear me now. That’s it, you’re doing great." My voice softened but remained clear and strong. "The doctors need to perform surgery immediately. The amniotic fluid is gone, and the babies are at risk of oxygen deprivation. Do you understand? Try to relax and focus only on the babies. They’re what matters most right now."

Anna blinked, and I watched tears trail down from the corners of her eyes.

The vacant horror that had consumed her features gradually receded, replaced by understanding and resolve. She exhaled softly and asked with surprising clarity: "Doctor, what do I need to do?’

Behind her, I secretly wiped away my own tears, feeling both heartbroken and relieved. She had returned and was willing to be strong for her children. After the anesthesiologist gave her detailed instructions, they positioned her on her side and began administering the anesthesia.

"Catherine," Anna whispered, her voice barely audible as the drugs began taking effect. "Don’t leave."

"I’m not going anywhere," I promised, squeezing her hand. "I’ll be right here the whole time."

As the anesthesia gradually took effect and the chief surgeon began the procedure, I remained standing beside her, silently offering my support.