Mated To The Crippled Alpha-Chapter 227: Karma served cold

The pieces were laid out too clearly. Every detail fit too well to be random, and it left the room feeling tight and airless.

Even Malcom who had protected Camilla for years couldn’t hide his doubt anymore. When he demanded an explanation, his voice carried both grief and anger.

Lewis and I traded a quick glance. We both knew the truth wouldn’t come easily. If it were that simple, Silas wouldn’t have gone to such terrifying lengths to keep it buried. And if Camilla felt trapped, she might do the same cling to silence no matter the cost.

"Dad..." Camilla began, her voice shaking in a practiced way. She looked fragile, but every word felt measured. "Silas helped me once. He saved my life. He hides his face because of his scars. And about him being the Hale heir... I only realized that recently too."

Julian’s expression turned dark. In one sharp movement, he grabbed her by the collar, his anger finally spilling over.

"Camilla, if you were involved with him all along, why did you pretend to love me?" His voice rose, rough with pain. "Why did you come between me and Elena? If not for you, I wouldn’t have walked out on her at the wedding. She wouldn’t have died out there in the snowstorm!"

"Julian, can’t you see how much I cared?" Camilla cried, tears sliding down her cheeks. "All these years haven’t I shown you?"

She shook her head hard, trying to force the lie into truth. "My feelings for Silas are not like that. I only felt gratitude. Nothing more."

But no one leaned toward her this time. The room stayed cold.

Julian’s jaw clenched. "Gratitude?" he spat. "The timing of your pregnancy doesn’t lie. It matches the first night we were together. You were desperate not to have my child, so you ran straight to him, didn’t you?"

He wasn’t wrong about the timing. I could vouch for that much. And yet the baby wasn’t Julian’s.

It was Silas’s.

Which meant Camilla hadn’t stumbled into this. The moment she and Julian separated, she went to Silas. Her pregnancy wasn’t an accident it was a move. And it was never about giving Julian a child. Her target had always been Silas.

Looking around, it was obvious who the real victim was.

Julian had sacrificed everything for Camilla he even ruined my wedding for her. And now? Camilla didn’t love him. The baby wasn’t his. He had lost me, and he had to watch me build a life he could no longer reach.

And that was only the beginning. He’d learned the man he called "Dad" was actually his uncle. His real father was still a mystery. His body was failing him on top of it all.

I used to think life wasn’t fair. Standing there, I understood something colder.

Karma doesn’t forget.

Adam’s face flushed with fury as he stared at Camilla. "Camilla. I’ve treated you well for years. Tell me the truth what is the real story between you and Silas?"

"I swear I didn’t know he was your son," Camilla insisted, voice trembling with desperation. "Even if you push me to the limit, I still won’t have an answer!"

Lewis finally stepped in, calm as ever. "It’s too convenient. I only found out a few days ago because of a DNA test. And don’t forget Sheila was the one who brought Camilla to the Hales. She might know something we don’t."

Silence fell.

The spotlight shifted.

Adam turned to Sheila, his gaze sharp. "You and Camilla... are you involved in this together?"

Sheila went pale, like the question physically hit her. Her voice shook. "Adam, how can you doubt me? You know what I’ve been through."

She swallowed, eyes shining. "I lost our daughter. That’s why I adopted her. I didn’t even return here during those years. How could I know anything about your family’s secrets and grudges?"

Her tears spilled faster. "And you only found out today that Julian isn’t your son. Do you think I’m psychic?"

She stepped back, shaking harder. "I’ve been treated like an outsider since I married into this family. Your father never accepted me, but I stayed because I thought... if I had your understanding, I could endure anything."

Her voice turned raw. "And now you doubt me? I’ve worked for this family. I’ve managed this home. I’ve given my whole life to it!"

Then she turned toward the wall like she’d lost control. "Maybe I should just end it all!"

Adam caught her in time, yanking her back. "Stop! I was asking a question. Why are you overreacting?"

"Because you don’t trust me!" she sobbed, clinging to him.

It didn’t look like the calm woman I’d been watching. It looked like panic dressed up as heartbreak and it made my suspicion sink deeper.

Still, my thoughts tangled. If Sheila truly wanted to harm the Hales... why was Jeffrey still alive? His death would’ve given her power. None of it added up.

Sheila’s drama. Silas’s silence. Camilla clinging to her secrets. And Camilla’s pregnancy her shield meant no one could force her hand.

In the end, Julian was the only one left bleeding in public.

Adam turned to Jeffrey, voice heavy. "What do we do now, Dad?"

Jeffrey sighed like the weight of the family was crushing his lungs. "No matter what Silas’s past is, he’s still a Hale. He stays here and gets treatment."

His gaze moved to Camilla. Everyone’s did.

"She stays too," Jeffrey decided. "Until the baby is born. After that, we’ll decide what to do with her."

Malcom didn’t protest. He looked empty, like he had nothing left to fight with. Two sons gone. No hope left for his daughter.

Watching him, I made a quiet decision. Some truths would stay with me for now. With Camilla and Silas under the same roof, watching them closely was the only way to reach the real person pulling the strings.

The Morrigans left without another word. Camilla was placed under house arrest, and Silas was kept in the room next to hers.

With everything exposed, Camilla stopped pretending. She returned to her room and whispered, voice shaking, "Silas... you have to hold on."

She didn’t look at Julian.

Not once.

Adam followed Jeffrey into the study. Sheila retreated to her room, careful to keep her distance, like she was afraid we’d catch something in her shadow.

Julian walked into the hallway with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit one after another, like smoke could numb the truth.

When I finally found him, cigarette butts littered the floor. He looked up at me, pale and worn out, and exhaled a thin stream of smoke.

His voice cracked into a whisper.

"I know," he said. "This is my punishment."