The Clinic Swapped My Donor, So a Billionaire Alpha Fathered My Baby novel · Chapter 17 of 24

Chapter 17: The Women's Table

By thirty-six weeks I had been dropped by seventeen Alphas, and I had stopped caring.

They had dropped Anselm, to be exact.

I was only the reason.

The phone had rung for a month with excuses and whispers, and the Beta had started answering it with "He's busy being undermined, call back."

On the second Saturday of October, a week before the Gathering, I was lying on the garden sofa under a blanket with my feet up.

Wynne came across the lawn at a dead run.

"There are women," she said.

"What women?"

"Nine. In cars. With casseroles."

I sat up as fast as a woman my size can sit.

They came round the side of the house in a line, nine women between fifty and ninety, in cardigans and hiking boots and good wool coats.

Every one of them was carrying a covered dish.

The eldest led them.

She could not have been five feet tall.

She wore a green anorak with the hood down and walked with a cane.

Her white hair stood out in a cloud round her head.

"The Speaker," Wynne breathed.

"Which one?"

"The Speaker, Marit. The old Speaker. She's eighty-six. She once bit an Alpha in a meeting."

"He deserved it," the old Speaker said, arriving at the sofa. "Girl. Show me the bead."

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