Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby
Chapter 124: Can I See Her

Chapter 124: Can I See Her

The study was plunged into silence. Neither man spoke for a long time. Anthony sat frozen, as if time itself had stopped for him. His hands trembled, his throat was dry, and tears streamed down his cheeks in quiet, steady lines.

He was experiencing a storm of emotions... grief, disbelief, guilt, and a faint, dangerous flicker of hope.

For years, Anthony had lived with the unbearable guilt that his father had killed Joan because of him. He had never forgiven himself for loving her so openly, so passionately, in a world that devoured vulnerabilities and punished emotions. Deep down, he believed that if he hadn’t loved Joan, she might have lived. That if he hadn’t defied his father, she might not have become a target.

After Joan’s supposed death, he had been inconsolable. He accused his father directly... fury exploding out of him like lava. His father denied everything, of course. But Anthony hadn’t believed a word. He couldn’t believe. Not after losing the love of his life.

And then came another nightmare. His father tried to arrange a political marriage for him with the daughter of another influential minister. Anthony, bitter and still in mourning, secretly sought out the young woman, hoping she would reject the alliance once she knew of his past love. But what he found broke him further.

The woman... his future wife... was even more pitiful than he was. She was battling an untreatable form of cancer, and the doctors had already given her only a few years to live. Yet her own family, hungry for status and alliances, suppressed her medical condition and tried to marry her off as if she were healthy.

Anthony wasn’t the only name on their list of suitors. If he refused, they would move on to the next nobleman. Knowing that Joan was gone and not wanting the young woman to suffer more indignity, Anthony agreed to marry her. It was a marriage in name only, for appearances. They had both agreed to that. They never shared a bed, only a mutual respect for each other’s pain.

The cancer worsened, and she passed away just a few years later. By then, Anthony had cut off all ties with his father. He had refused to remarry, and his steadfast loyalty to his deceased wife earned him a strange respect in his in-laws’ eyes. They had seen how he stayed with her during her final days in the hospital, comforting her, tending to her like a devoted husband. Moved by his dedication, they had tried to match him with younger girls from their extended family... but Anthony refused them all. He remained a widower.

Now, all those painful years came flooding back in a rush... memories that scraped at his soul like shards of glass.

And then came the most bewildering part: the man in black claiming that Joan had lived, had given birth to his daughter, and that daughter now worked for a mysterious boss.

Anthony wept, unable to contain the tide of emotion. When the sobs finally died down to sniffles and silent gasps for breath, the man in black, who had watched him silently, finally spoke.

"I already told you... your daughter is alive and working for my boss. Whether you believe me or not is up to you."

Anthony looked up, eyes red and swollen. His voice was hoarse and cracked as he asked, "Can I... can I see her?"

The man’s reply was calm, deliberate. "That depends on your actions. You already know what my boss wants."

Anthony wiped his face with his sleeve and nodded slowly. "I can do anything for you... to see her. But what you’re asking... it’s too much. I’m not sure I can do it. It’s almost impossible."

The man leaned forward slightly, his tone confident. "Don’t worry. You don’t have to do anything. Just accept what is being offered to you. Your party is going to nominate you as the leader. All you need to do is accept the honor gracefully. Later, they will name you the next candidate for Prime Minister. You just have to smile, campaign, and win. My boss will handle the rest."

He paused, then added, "And let me be clear... my boss is a businesswoman. Not a criminal. She’s not asking you to sell your soul. Everything she needs from you will be legal, within the bounds of the law, and for the benefit of the people. But she needs someone trustworthy in that seat. That someone is you."

Anthony shook his head, still dazed. "You talk like it’s easy. I’ve been in politics for over twenty years. If it were that easy, I would’ve been Prime Minister already. You don’t understand how complicated it is."

The man In black chuckled softly. "No, you don’t understand how powerful we are. You just need to be mentally prepared. That’s all."

Anthony exhaled deeply. "Alright... I understand. I’ll do as you say. Just... just let me see her. Please."

Without a word, the man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a mobile phone. He tapped the screen a few times, then turned it around to show Anthony a photograph.

It was a photo of him... young and smiling, taken during his university days. Anthony’s eyes widened. "Where did you get this?"

The man replied, "We found it in your daughter’s home. She kept this photo of you all these years. That alone should prove who she is."

Then he reached for a small box beside him and opened it. Inside was a glass vial, no larger than a finger, containing a small amount of blood.

"This is your daughter’s blood," he said calmly.

"Use it for a paternity test if you want confirmation. Just make sure it’s done anonymously. We don’t want anyone tracing it or putting you or her in danger. You’re both valuable to us."

Anthony stared at the vial, hands trembling again. It felt like holding a piece of his soul... a long-lost part of his heart that had suddenly returned.

The man continued, "As for when you’ll see her... that depends on how things unfold. First, do the test. Second, be cautious. Don’t trust anyone around you completely. If you think your staff are a liability to our cause, let us know. We can provide replacements... security, secretaries, whatever you need. Just send word."

Anthony looked up. "But... how? How do I contact you? You haven’t given me a number or name."

The man gave him a small, mysterious smile. "Don’t worry. We’ll contact you. And remember... this meeting never happened."

And just like that, he vanished from the chair. No sound, no flash. One moment he was there, the next he was gone.

Anthony sat motionless, staring at the empty chair. For a long while, he wondered if it had all been a hallucination... his mind conjuring up some elaborate fantasy out of guilt and longing. But then his eyes drifted back to the box in his hands.

The vial of blood was still there.

Real. Solid. Tangible proof.

He clutched the box to his chest, his heart pounding. Somewhere out there, Joan’s daughter... his daughter... was alive.