Zeke, still in his swaddling clothes, suddenly let out a piercing wail that shattered the tension in the room. Marcellus tightened his grip, the sudden shift in his demeanor causing Morgan to wince.

"Marcellus, you're hurting me," she murmured, quickly morphing her expression into one of fragile sorrow.

Marcellus didn't seem to hear her. His gaze remained fixed on the infant. "Why won't he stop crying?"

Morgan glanced at the baby, a flicker of genuine disdain crossing her features. "It’s nothing. The child is just naturally fussy. Max is already a handful, and this one… well, I suppose you can’t expect much from a child with her genes."

"Don't talk nonsense." Marcellus frowned, his voice dropping to a sharp, authoritative tone. "Childbirth is a traumatic experience. Elaine was generous enough to give you her child; you have no right to belittle her." He paused, his gaze darkening. "If you can’t provide a proper environment for Zeke, give him back to Elaine. You already have a son of your own."

It was the harshest thing he had ever said to her. Morgan’s face paled, and she hurriedly scooped up the baby. "I was just speaking off the cuff! I’ve always treated them like my own, how could I not take care of them?"

But Zeke seemed determined to spite her. The more she rocked him, the louder he screamed.

Marcellus felt his own heart hammering against his ribs, an inexplicable wave of dread washing over him. They say a mother and child share a spiritual tether. If Zeke was in such a state… could something have happened to Elaine?

The thought took root instantly, gnawing at his composure until his skin crawled.

"I have to go see her."

Marcellus rose to leave, but Morgan lunged, grabbing his sleeve. "Don't! Marcellus, I’ll tell you the truth—I regret everything. I shouldn't have married your brother just for the sake of status, only to end up a widow in all but name. I want a divorce." She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Get a divorce too, won't you? Let’s set things right. I’m the one who should be your wife!"

"Absurd." Marcellus shoved her away. She stumbled back, hitting the wall with a look of stunned disbelief.

Seeing her fragility, Marcellus felt a momentary softening, but his tone remained cold. "Never speak of this again. Things are fine as they are."

He knew, logically, that marrying Elaine had been a calculated move. In the beginning, he hadn't loved her; he had found her presence stifling. Yet, the mere thought of her being gone felt like a piece of his own flesh being carved out, leaving a dull, throbbing ache.

Perhaps, after seven years of living under the same roof, he had become more dependent on her than he cared to admit. Lately, however, Elaine’s attitude had chilled. That shadow that used to follow him everywhere had all but vanished.

*She’s just angry,* he reasoned. *I’ll go to her, take her in my arms, and promise she can raise Zeke herself. That will surely bring the light back to her eyes. She’ll forgive me.*

With that resolve, he ignored Morgan’s cries of distress and strode toward the Memorial Chapel.

The silence inside was suffocating, heavy with a thick, metallic scent of iron that refused to dissipate. Greta Spencer sat stiffly on the dais, her back straight as a rod. Beside her, Derrick, the butler, was on his knees, his shoulders trembling.

Marcellus blinked, scanning the room, confused. His eyes locked onto the floor.

A broken whip lay in a pool of dark, congealing blood. Elaine was nowhere to be seen.

The panic he had been suppressing surged, threatening to choke him. He forced a stiff, practiced smile as he looked at the matriarch. "Grandmother, why have you involved yourself in this?" He kept his voice steady. "Where is Elaine? Was she sent to the infirmary?"

Greta glared at him, her eyes cold enough to freeze blood.

The smile fell from Marcellus’s face. "Grandmother, what is the meaning of this? Elaine broke the Spencer Code and offended the uncles. I was only handing out a minor punishment. Surely she didn’t need to go crying to you about it?"

Greta let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "Don't think just because I'm old, I'm easily fooled! It was Morgan who overstepped, not her!" She leaned forward, her voice trembling with restrained fury. "If you loved Morgan so much, why did you sabotage everything to force Elaine into this marriage, making her the scapegoat for all your sins?"

Marcellus took a jagged breath, his impatience rising. "What nonsense has she been whispering in your ear? She’s clearly become unmanageable. I’ll have to teach her a lesson—"

Greta closed her eyes, a choked sob escaping her. "Don't bother," she whispered, her voice shattering the silence. "She’s already dead."