Pathological Possession: Even Death Will Not Part Us-Chapter 36: Prenatal Exam at the Black Clinic Gets Spread Around

Chapter 36: Chapter 36: Prenatal Exam at the Black Clinic Gets Spread Around

Watching Eleanor’s displeased expression, Tilly tightly clenched her phone, the veins on her hand bulging.

Clearly, she was furious.

Tilly quickly navigated to her work station, put her arm around Eleanor’s shoulder, and comforted her, "Don’t listen to her nonsense. Everyone in our group knows you’re competent. Jolly God even secretly praises you as a rookie fighter jet."

Seeing Eleanor’s unrelaxed demeanor, Tilly understood the crux was the rumor. "You see the absurdity in the end; no one believes it. Jolly God doesn’t believe it, I don’t believe it, even Mr. Byron told her to shut up."

"Does no one really believe it?" Eleanor’s heart was pounding, "She said I went for a prenatal checkup." 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Tilly squeezed her hand tighter around Eleanor, "Only a fool would believe it. Everyone in our group knows you went to buy Hopper’s chestnut cake yesterday, which required an hour wait plus round trip, barely enough for your two hours off."

Eleanor managed to calm down.

Tilly tossed her bag onto the chair from across the work station, "However, you need to think of an explanation."

Eleanor felt anxious again, "What explanation?"

"How to explain to Jolly God." Tilly thought it was obvious, "With work so busy, you took time off to buy chestnut cake because of your craving. Though everyone in the group owes you for the food, leaders don’t favor that. You even lied saying you were on a date..."

"Tilly, thinking you can badmouth me by calling Moon Lord, and I wouldn’t hear?"

Eleanor turned around.

Jolly God stood behind them silently, looking at her, face serious, "A good-looking belly? I think it’s just a greedy belly."

Eleanor felt guilty and said nothing.

Tilly wanted to speak up for her, but Jolly God held up a finger warningly. Seeing her quiet down, he turned to ask Eleanor, "The leader doesn’t want to make it difficult for you. This matter in the company chat group damages the Special Group’s reputation. Give a clear answer, was Leona Lewis slandering you?"

"Yes." Eleanor clenched her hand, "The black sports car belongs to my friend. She came to see me on the day I joined the group, surveillance is available."

"That’s settled then." Jolly God rested his elbow on her workstation partition, "The pregnancy talk is also fabrication. I’ll go find their leader later; Leona Lewis must publicly apologize to you."

Tilly stretched both arms straight, giving him double thumbs up, "My God, pure man."

Jolly God brushed his bangs, "No longer a chubby goddess?"

Tilly was caught off guard by the personal jab, awkwardly laughing.

Eleanor added, "Not a goddess, the chubbiness merely hides your majestic personality."

Jolly God left satisfied.

Tilly invited Eleanor to the company cafeteria for breakfast, but Eleanor, feeling like her mind was a tangled mess, declined.

She had a prenatal checkup in a small alley, disguised like a terrorist with a hat and mask, carefully avoiding surveillance.

Before entering and exiting the alley, she also checked there was no one around. How did Leona Lewis know about her checkup?

The morning was full of shocks, countless threads, Eleanor’s brain felt like it was about to overheat, the more she thought, the worse her headache.

She opened her bag, preparing to find her phone and ask the black-market clinic owner if someone checked her whereabouts.

But the first thing she saw wasn’t her phone; instead, there was an inexplicable food box.

A silver aluminum rectangle with a script ’Grant’ on the center of the lid.

Eleanor paused. Mrs. Grant occasionally prepared homemade desserts during afternoon tea, using this type of container for close friends or sending to Grant Group for Mr. Grant or Cillian.

She always knew about these containers, even knew their location but never received one.

Upon seeing it now, her hand moved faster than her mind, opening it to find a corn ham sandwich.

She immediately realized it was breakfast prepared for Cillian by the servants. He loved corn. During those four years in The North cohabiting, she had made it numerous times early in the morning.

Of course, it was his mandate.

Though he never openly requested it, on days she occasionally skipped, Cillian left in the morning with a gloomy face, returned at night the same way, finding everything unpleasant.

At bedtime, unless she humbled herself to appease him, his bed anger could burn through her.

The memories were unpleasant; Eleanor looked at the sandwich with disgust, confused how it ended up in her bag.

She called Aaron Chase, "He left his breakfast with me."

Aaron paused noticeably before saying, "Miss Eleanor, I’m merely a driver, not in charge of such matters."

"You don’t need to handle it; just inform him for me."

"The young master has already arrived at Grant Group. I, as a driver, can’t go upstairs. Perhaps you should ask yourself?"

Eleanor refused, but before she could voice it, Aaron already hastily hung up.

This evident avoidance, Eleanor understood.

She and Cillian were at an impasse, nothing but a sinking ship. Whoever got involved had no benefits, only dragging themselves down.

Eleanor didn’t call, instead took a photo and sent it to Cillian.

If there was a choice, she didn’t want to say a single word to him.

Her message sent without reply.

Eleanor expected it; the Grant Group’s affairs were busy. Even if not, Cillian’s attitude towards her made a read-without-reply normal.

At least she actively informed him, leaving no excuse for him to make a fuss.

After the morning meeting concluded, Eleanor returned to her seat, surprisingly seeing a reply from Cillian, "For you, eat it."

She stared at the line for a minute, confusion growing to a creepy extent.

That morning, she’d been given the bag, treated with kindness, and now even breakfast was prepared.

What was he after?

Before she could think deeply, her peripheral vision caught Jolly God heading downstairs, presumably to see Leona Lewis’s group lead.

She immediately followed.

It wasn’t clear how much Leona knew. If there was any evidence, confronting could backfire and end the day disastrously.

Upon getting downstairs, Leona went to the restroom, not there. Jolly God was invited into an office by the group leader.

Eleanor didn’t go inside, made an excuse, and went to the restroom.

Entering, she found Leona brushing mascara in front of the mirror, hesitating upon seeing Eleanor in the reflection, hastily putting away the mascara, preparing to leave.

Seeing her so guilty, Eleanor relaxed a bit internally.

If there was evidence or firsthand witnessing, she wouldn’t react this way.

"I heard you say I’m a gold-digger, had a room, got pregnant?"

Leona ignored and skirted her, continuing to walk out.

Eleanor blocked her directly, "Aren’t you going to tell the involved party?"

"You should know what you did yourself." Leona blinked lightly, smudging dark stains, "Wasn’t the black sports car on that morning fake?"

"I don’t deny the sports car." Eleanor scrutinized her emotions, "But regarding my checkup, where did you see it?"

Leona clenched her hands tight, having only seen Eleanor near the alleys where secret clinics operated, having secretly had an abortion there herself.

Yesterday, Jolly God’s aggressive questioning made her rashly speak out, now scared and jumpy.

She didn’t want to publicly apologize and lose face, yet not doing so would escalate Eleanor’s protest, proving innocent at the clinic, finding evidence of her abortion, making it impossible to continue working at the company.

Eleanor was about to speak when another female colleague entered, "The leader asked me to call you both."

Eleanor glanced at Leona then turned away.

She determined, Leona knew nothing and simply tried to malign her by chance.

Handling the matter was easy in the company; Leona’s apology would prevent further nasty rumors.

Yet the impact was precarious.

Cillian, perceptive, always guarded, might sense the gossip.

Additionally, Cecilia Byron knew her identity; dealing with rumors swiftly.

Meeting Cillian in business, perfect for conversation.

Twice in a short span faced pregnancy suspicions, though clarified, her presence at the platform during work hours was undeniable; her initial brush-off lacked justification.

Given Cillian’s cautious and suspicious nature, he’d likely send someone to investigate again.

His resources abundant, no effort for a re-check, but reassurance.

Contemplating all this gave Eleanor a splitting headache.

Misfortunes piling up.

At 3 PM, Eleanor received Mrs. Grant’s call, "Eleanor, come back now to try on clothes. At 5 there’s a meeting at Serene Garden; your work outfit is inappropriate."

Eleanor felt drained, forgetting about the arranged meeting entirely.