Give Up, Mr. Lawyer! This is Not Your Child-Chapter 144: Only Claire Caldwell Can Be His Wife
Top-floor apartment in New York.
The neon lights flickered outside the window, but inside the apartment, it was all dark.
Justin Holden sat on the hard floor in front of the living room’s floor-to-ceiling window, wearing a dark suit, one long leg bent, his back against the cold glass.
Several empty whiskey bottles were scattered by his feet, and he still clutched a half-full glass.
The amber liquid swayed slightly in the glass. He couldn’t recall how many glasses he had had, the alcohol burning his throat and stomach, yet failing to numb his strained nerves.
He had been suffering from insomnia for days, only able to sleep when drunk.
His eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles underneath, his face appearing unusually pale under the faint light from the window.
He tried to close his eyes, but the heaviness of his eyelids failed to bring sleep.
In the darkness, shadows wavered.
At first, the fragmented images were of Claire Caldwell.
A pale and calm face in the courtroom, the resolute back in prison for the last time.
These images replayed like old film negatives.
But at some point, the figure in front of him started to blur, that face gradually turning into Jean Ellison.
He saw Jean sitting on the sofa in his home, head lowered, reading a book, warm light tracing the soft lines of her profile.
He saw her busy in the kitchen, wearing an apron, turning back to give him a gentle smile.
He saw her holding Jesse’s hand, standing at the airport security gate, glancing back with an expression difficult to decipher.
The images of Jean became increasingly clear and frequent, even overshadowing Claire’s shadow.
Though they were obviously two entirely different people, in his drunken and sleep-deprived chaos, they seemed intertwined.
When this realization clearly emerged in his confused mind, Justin Holden’s whole body suddenly froze.
It’s not Claire Caldwell.
It’s Jean Ellison.
It was Jean who repeatedly appeared in his mind, making his heart clench.
"Bang!"
A crisp sound.
He accidentally shattered the glass he was holding tightly in his hand.
The glass smashed on the hard marble floor, instantly shattering into pieces, shards and liquor flying everywhere.
Justin Holden stared blankly at the mess of fragments on the floor, not moving immediately.
Only a few seconds later did he seem to feel a sharp sting in his palm.
He slowly opened his right hand, which had been tightly clenched into a fist.
A sharp shard of glass was deeply embedded in his palm, blood incessantly oozing from the wound, dripping along the clear lines of his palm and the gaps between his knuckles, forming a small patch of glaring red on the light-colored marble floor.
The pain in his palm was real, and the scene before his eyes changed again.
No longer the luxurious floor of the New York apartment, but a dim and damp prison cell.
The gray cement floor, the unpleasant smell of mold and disinfectant in the air.
Then, he saw the blood on the ground.
Not the fresh red drops from his palm, but already dried dark, viscous blood seeping into the cracks of the cement floor.
A large patch, shocking to the eyes.
Isabel Dalton’s voice echoed in his ear.
"Lawyer Holden, it’s not just Claire’s blood, but also the blood of that unfortunate child in her womb, ectopic pregnancy, massive bleeding, and then she was gone—truly a pity. . ."
He stood back then in front of that pool of blood, feeling all the blood in his body freeze, heartache making it difficult to breathe.
He sharply closed his eyes, his body uncontrollably trembling slightly.
The wound on his right palm tightened with his exertion, causing the blood to flow more rapidly, yet he seemed unable to feel it.
He finally fully understood.
Whether it was Claire or Jean, he could never truly own them, nor could he protect them.
All he brought to them was endless harm and disaster.
Claire died in the cold prison, taking with her their unborn child.
Jean got swept into the Holden family’s turmoil by him, manipulated by Leah and Zoe, and now she could only take Jesse far away to a foreign country.
He, someone who couldn’t even protect the people around him, what right did he have to hope for anything else?
Since Claire’s death, he had been in agonizing pain, wanting life to end.
He could never marry Leah, but neither could he approach Jean again.
Any closeness he had to Jean and Jesse would be a burden.
The complexity of his origins, public opinion, Leah and the child in her womb that was supposedly his.
He could give Jean no status, give Jesse no rightful identity as a Holden family young lady.
His wife for this lifetime could only be Claire, a debt he owed her, and the Caldwell family.
His so-called sincerity, weak and worthless.
Even less so than the practical utility of a ticket change to Gresten.
Letting go, letting them leave, getting far away from him, perhaps was the only thing he could do for them.
Justin Holden slowly opened his eyes, lowering his head, looking at his still bleeding palm, and the bloodstains mixed with liquor on the floor.
He didn’t immediately tend to the wound, just used his uninjured left hand to brace against the nearby coffee table, standing up with some staggering.
He walked over to the liquor cabinet, took out a new bottle of whiskey, bit open the cap with his teeth, and tilted his head back to take a large gulp straight from the bottle.
The strong liquor burned his throat, bringing temporary numbness, yet the pain in his palm became increasingly clear.
He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the bustling yet unfamiliar city beneath his feet.
The glass faintly reflected his face, appearing exhausted and disheveled.
He stood there motionless, like a cold and indifferent statue.
Blood was still slowly dripping from between his fingers, forming a small puddle on the floor.
The night was long, and his insomnia seemed worse.
This time, even alcohol had lost its effect.
He picked up a cigarette, lighting it before putting it out again. He didn’t smoke; it was a habit left by Claire Caldwell.
The banquet hall of the old Holden residence was brightly lit, with a sizable family dinner taking place.
A long dining table was spread with a white cloth, set with elegant silverware and crystal-clear glasses.
The air was filled with the aroma of delicious food and a faint scent of perfume.
Seated were the close and distant relatives of the Holden family, all either wealthy or prestigious, including successful businessmen, well-known scholars, and artists.
The atmosphere seemed amiable and harmonious, with a lively exchange of glasses and words of laughter.
As the hostess, Mrs. Holden sat at the head seat, wearing a proper smile and occasionally attending to the guests.
Leah Sutton, being a special focus of attention, sat to Mrs. Holden’s right, dressed in a loose maternity dress, with a constant gentle smile on her face.
Zoe Holden sat beside her, while Mr. Holden, as usual, spoke little, dining silently.
The topic of conversation unknowingly shifted to Leah Sutton’s pregnancy.
Several female elders surrounded Mrs. Holden and Leah Sutton, speaking words of blessing and concern.
"Sister-in-law, congratulations! After so many years, you’re finally having a grandson,"
aunts clad in Chanel suits said with a smile, their gaze sweeping over Leah’s belly. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚
"Yes, Justin is finally settling down."
Mrs. Holden patted Leah Sutton’s hand, smiling with satisfaction.
Leah stood up to go to the restroom, with a maid following her.
Another aunt, wearing a pearl necklace and looking slightly sharp, sipped red wine as if something suddenly came to her mind.
She leaned closer to Mrs. Holden and lowered her voice with a tone of experienced concern.
"Ah, sister-in-law, I’m not sure if I should say this or not..."
Mrs. Holden’s smile remained unchanged: "We’re all family, say whatever you need to."
The aunt sighed softly, her voice quiet but enough for the nearby tables to catch a hint.
"I just remembered the trouble my unpromising son caused a few years ago. He was fooling around outside and got a girl pregnant, and she came to us crying. One look at that girl; her eyes were shifty, and she was dressed showily, not someone who seemed proper."
She paused, drawing more attention, then continued.
"I was cautious and didn’t rush to agree with anything, persuading her to have an amniocentesis done first, checking the chromosomes, as part of a comprehensive prenatal check-up. Guess what the result was?"
She deliberately held back, seeing Mrs. Holden frown slightly before continuing.
"The report showed that the child wasn’t even ours. We almost ended up raising someone else’s child as our own. Imagine if we accepted this blindly; the family inheritance could end up in the hands of an outsider."
Her words instantly quieted the surrounding area.
Many people’s eyes subtly drifted toward the restroom.
Zoe’s face darkened, giving a disapproving glance at the talkative aunt.
She wanted to speak, but a look from her mother stopped her; it would be seen as impolite and disrespectful for the Holden family’s eldest daughter to interrupt the elders.
Mrs. Holden’s smile faded. She put down her chopsticks, picked up a napkin, and wiped her mouth, sounding displeased.
"Your words are unpleasant. Leah is a good girl and different from those dubious women outside. She sincerely cares for Justin, and our Holden family doesn’t arbitrarily suspect our own."
As she spoke, she deliberately patted Leah’s hand in reassurance, signaling her not to take it to heart.
Though the aunt felt embarrassed being refuted by Mrs. Holden, she forced a smile, still justifying herself.
"Sister-in-law, don’t misunderstand. I’m not doubting Leah. I’m considering the Holden family’s future. We have a large empire that should pass to the legitimate bloodline. Being cautious doesn’t hurt. The amniocentesis technology is mature now; it’s just routine, posing no risk to mother or child. Checking would bring peace of mind and silence any potential rumors, wouldn’t it?"
Mrs. Holden didn’t immediately refute this time; she picked up her teacup and took a slow sip.
Her eyes, however, lost their previous firmness, replaced by a trace of wavering and contemplation.
Involuntarily, she glanced towards her husband, hoping the head of the family would decide.
Mr. Holden’s face remained serious, seemingly uninterested in the women’s gossip.
The aunt saw Mrs. Holden’s change in attitude and continued with more persistence, her voice lowered to almost a whisper.
"Sister-in-law, after us, leaving such a large inheritance to an unknown grandson would indeed be a joke. Families like ours dread unclear bloodlines. A test is simply for peace of mind, proving the child’s legitimacy, and it would be good for Leah too, right?"
Mrs. Holden’s grip tightened on the teacup.
She thought of her son Justin Holden’s persistent coldness and even aversion towards Leah Sutton, and about him preferring to stay in the United States rather than remain in the country accompanying a pregnant Leah.
Previously overwhelmed with expectations for a grandson, her mind was now sobered by the talk of relatives, gradually regaining clarity.
What if?
The Holden family’s generations of efforts, should they risk even a tiny fraction?
Her expression fluctuated, initial firm rejection gradually replaced by hesitation and doubt.
She looked away from Leah Sutton, stared at the patterns on the table in silence for a long time, then spoke with almost inaudible ambiguity.
"...Let’s talk about this later."
Although not agreed, the change in attitude made many present understand the matter.
The talkative aunt had a faint, barely noticeable smile on her lips and switched topics.
Leah wasn’t aware of this conversation at the table and returned from the restroom with a smile, sitting back down.
"Zoe, find some time to accompany Leah to the hospital for an amniocentesis."
Mrs. Holden took a sip of tea and put down her cup, instructing Zoe beside her.
Leah’s face turned pale, her hands on her lap suddenly clenched.
"What?"
She exclaimed, looking extremely flustered.
She wasn’t worried about the child’s bloodline; she was worried about the child not enduring the amniocentesis. It was a problematic embryo, fragile even without the report. She might miscarry before then.
