Pregnant With Four Alphas' Babies: A Reverse Harem Romance Chapter 232: Tell the Truth

*Eli*

This is my son. I know that. Even though his head has been shaved, and he doesn’t quite look like himself, I’d recognize his face anywhere. Not to mention his smell. I am absolutely one hundred percent certain that this is my child.

Yet, these horrible people are insisting that he’s a baby they adopted in another village. I am actually having to consider bringing in a healer to take a blood sample from this baby to do a DNA check to prove he’s my child. I want to just take him and go, but with the police chief here, I’m having to do things by the book.

Besides, I do need to be able to prove it on paper.

“I’m telling you, we’ve had these plans to adopt this little boy for months,” Jill Jefferson says, sitting on the couch in her living room next to her husband, Emmett, tears streaming down her cheeks. “The mother contacted us and let us know that she had a child she wasn’t going to be able to care for and wanted to know if we wanted him.”

“We thought our family was complete until we met little Norman,” Emmett Jefferson adds.

My blood runs cold. “Norman?” They’d renamed Ethan Norman?

“That’s right. He’s named for my father,” Jill says.

I am holding my baby, and he has stopped crying, which is further proof that he is mine after all of the crying he had done before I got to him. I don’t believe a word they are saying.

“Do you have any proof?” the police chief asks. “A birth certificate, adoption paperwork, a letter from the mother?”

They shake their heads at all of those things. “No, no. She was going to mail all of that to us.” These people are such good liars, when Mr. Jefferson makes this statement, even I almost believe him.

“Alpha Mark is on the way,” I remind them.

He had been out helping Tristan look for Trisha, but when I used the mind-link to contact him to tell him I needed some help with these prominent citizens of his, Mark said he’d come right over. He should be able to get them to tell the truth since he’s their Alpha. He can compel them to do so. Most people who have even an ounce of human decency will cave to such pressure from their own Alpha. I’m not sure if these two have an ounce or not, but we will find out.

“We are happy to explain to the Alpha how we came to adopt our son,” Mr. Jefferson says, sounding sure of himself.

“I think we should separate them,” I say to the police chief. The mayor nods in agreement.

“What? Why?” Mrs. Jefferson sounds panicked again. “Why would you separate us?’

“I have my reasons.” I have already used my ability to suppress their mind-link capabilities, so they won’t be able to talk to one another through the mind-link while we are interrogating them. We shall see if their stories are similar.

“The bottom line is this,” the mayor interjects. “If the two of you did not actually adopt this baby legally, then that means there are some terrible people out there who stole this child from his mother. Those people need to be stopped. Whoever took the child from his home may have sold the baby to someone else who in turn sold him to you. While we are sitting here discussing this situation with you, not only are we wasting time finding those people, we are delaying this baby’s reunion with his mother.”

The two of them exchange glances, and for a moment, I think they might cave.

But when Mr. Jefferson is looking at me again, he says, “I’m telling you, we adopted this baby from his mother, and we have done nothing wrong.”

I’m beginning to wonder if maybe he believes that. Is it possible that whoever sold my baby to him pretended to be a mother who had had this child and didn’t want him anymore? Would Retta have done something like that?

But no, that doesn’t make sense. He is saying that he has known about this baby for a while, and Retta only stole our babies sometime in the last twenty-four to forty-eight hours.

With every passing minute, it gets harder and harder to think. We have two babies back for certain. Holding this child in my arms, I’m fairly certain it’s actually three.

But Trisha is still missing, and the more time that passes, the harder it will be to find her. Who knows where she is? It seems like she was never brought to the train station.

Maybe Retta sold her to someone different than the person she sold the other three babies to?

Could she have kept Tristan’s daughter for herself?

I doubt it. Someone who would steal and sell babies probably has no motherly instincts.

The police chief is still trying to get the couple to speak the truth, but since they won’t, I am about to separate them into two different rooms to check for inconsistencies when the front door opens and Alpha Mark walks in.

Immediately, the Jeffersons recoil, dropping their heads in a submissive stature. “Alpha Mark,” they both say.

“Emmett. Jill. I don’t know why I'm even here. I can’t believe you made me stop searching for Alpha Tristan’s baby to come here to compel you to tell Alpha Eli the truth about his son. And isn’t it true that your company just applied for some contracts with the pack lands?”

Mr. Jefferson’s mouth hangs open for a second before he says, “Yes, Alpha.”

“Now, why would I be compelled to grant those when you’ve acted this way? Tell the fucking truth. Now.”

Mrs. Jefferson burst into tears, and Mr. Jefferson says simply, “We bought the baby from a man at the train station a few hours ago.”

“And?” I ask, needing them to tell me one more thing.

“And…” Mrs. Jefferson says, “we shaved his head. He had red hair. Like yours, Alpha Eli.”

Mark shakes his head and says to the police chief. “Lock them up. I’ll deal with them later. I need to find my friend’s daughter.”

With that, I stand, turn my back on these assholes, and walk out of the house, holding my son.