Broken Bond: Claimed by My Ex-Husband's Alpha Billionaire Uncle-Chapter 97: Scars That Don’t Show

Charlotte slowly fluttered her eyes open, and the first thing she saw was the white ceiling of the hospital room. The strong scent of medicine filled her nose, and she could hear the steady beeping of a heart monitor beside her.

She lay still for a moment, disoriented, before her hand moved—almost on its own—down to her stomach.

There was nothing.

No stitches. No bandages. Not even the slightest ache. Just smooth skin.

As a supernatural being, she healed faster than most. Surgeries like this barely left a trace. The doctors had used a special type of anesthesia that temporarily slowed her body’s natural healing, just long enough to complete the procedure.

The concept was somewhat similar to Nightshade, but it was actually quite different. Ordinary anesthesia wouldn’t cause wounds to melt or decay within seconds, it would only weaken their healing for a short time.

And now that the anesthesia had worn off, Charlotte’s body had healed by its own.

But the smooth, untouched skin over her stomach only made her feel worse.

It felt like she had never been pregnant at all.

Like the baby inside her had been nothing more than a beautiful dream, one that vanished the moment she woke up.

There was no trace left of her child’s existence.

She stared up at the ceiling, her mind quiet and blank. There were no thoughts, no words, just a heavy silence pressing down on her chest.

Then, slowly, tears began to slip from the corners of her eyes, trailing silently down her cheeks.

Her body might not have any scars, but her heart was shattered. And no healing power in the world could fix that.

The pain, the sorrow, and the emptiness from losing her baby... Charlotte knew it wasn’t something that would go away anytime soon. Maybe not ever.

Damon had told her not to worry, to take her time and let herself heal—but how could she not think about it?

How could she forget the life that had once grown inside her?

The silence in her heart was too loud. And no matter how tightly she tried to hold herself together, that ache ... it lingered.

Some wounds don’t bleed on the outside. And some pain doesn’t listen to reason.

The door to the hospital room opened quietly.

Damon stepped inside, expecting to find her asleep. But the moment his eyes landed on her, his heart broke into small pieces.

Charlotte was lying still, tears silently rolling down her cheeks as she stared at the ceiling, completely lost in her grief.

"Charlotte ..." Damon’s voice was soft, barely more than a whisper.

She didn’t respond. Maybe she didn’t hear him. Or maybe she just didn’t have the strength to look at him.

Damon walked over and placed the bag of her fresh clothes on the sofa before sitting beside her.

He reached out gently, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face. Her eyes were red and tired, her cheeks still damp with tears.

"I’m sorry." Charlotte muttered, "For crying again."

Damon didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he leaned in and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into the warmth of his chest. One hand cradled the side of her head, fingers moving slowly through her hair.

"There’s nothing wrong with crying," he said softly. "You don’t have to hide your pain from me."

She didn’t respond, but the way her body relaxed into his told him everything he needed to know.

When Charlotte glanced toward the door, she noticed a few familiar faces peeking through the small window, trying not to be obvious about it.

Even through her tears, a small, shaky laugh slipped out. "Were they trying to come in?" she asked softly.

"They were," Damon admitted. "But they can wait a little longer."

Earlier, Louis and Diana had planned to enter the hospital room with Damon. They had even brought a few comfort foods and some light entertainment—magazines and snacks—to help cheer Charlotte up.

However, the moment Damon saw her crying quietly in bed, he had closed the door behind him without a word, surprising both Louis and Diana.

Now, curious and concerned, they stood outside, trying to figure out what was happening by peeking through the small window in the door.

Charlotte laughed softly and tried to brush away her tears. "It’s okay. Let them come in."

Damon hesitated for a second, carefully watching her face, making sure she truly meant it. When he saw the faint smile behind her sadness, he finally nodded.

He could tell Charlotte needed something more than just silence and comfort. She needed warmth. Distraction. Laughter, even if just a little.

If she stayed alone in that quiet room with only him, the grief would eat her alive.

Damon stood, walked over to the door, and opened it slowly.

Outside, Louis and Diana immediately straightened up like guilty kids caught peeking through a window. Both were holding bags, trying to act casual.

"You can come in," Damon said. "She said it’s okay."

Louis cleared his throat and stepped inside, followed by Diana, who gave Charlotte a quick once-over, her eyes softening when she saw her sitting up.

"You scared us, you know," Diana said, setting a paper bag on the table. "I brought cake. And fashion magazines. I figured judging celebrity outfits might be better than crying all day."

Charlotte let out a soft, tired laugh, one that actually reached her eyes. "That actually sounds ... kind of fun."

Louis placed a small thermos on the nightstand. "Homemade tea from Vera," he said. "Good for your body. And your heart."

Charlotte glanced at the thermos, surprised. "Vera was here?"

Louis nodded. "Yeah. She stopped by to see you. But she couldn’t stay long because she didn’t want to leave Haven alone."

Haven was still in the same hospital, resting in the children’s ward. Vera had told her firmly to stay in bed until she was fully healed, so she couldn’t go to Charlotte’s room even though she wanted it that badly.

"Please tell Haven I’m okay," Charlotte said softly. "And that I’ll come see her soon."

Then she looked up again. "What about Mona and Carmen? They didn’t come?"

It wasn’t like she expected everyone to visit her, but since both Mona and Carmen had been so eager to welcome their grandchild, Charlotte couldn’t help but worry they might be disappointed in her.

"They had something to take care of," Louis explained gently. "I’m not sure what exactly, but ... I think it’s about finding Priscilla."

Sometimes, Louis and the others didn’t even know how Carmen and Mona got their information, but most of the time, they always managed to find things out faster than the Crimson Moon Pack.

Whenever Damon asked, they would simply say, "You don’t need to worry about that."

"They probably have their own network," Louis once joked. "Secret moms’ intelligence division."

Diana had laughed at that, but deep down, they all suspected it wasn’t far from the truth. Carmen had powerful connections from her time as a pack leader’s wife, and Mona ... well, Mona had a way of getting people to talk without ever raising her voice.

So when they said they were handling it—especially something as serious as finding Priscilla, no one questioned it.

Charlotte simply said, "I hope they can find her soon."

After that, she allowed herself to relax a little. She laughed quietly at Diana’s commentary on a particularly awful celebrity outfit and sipped the tea Vera had sent.

For a while, the room felt lighter and warmer.

Eventually, Louis and Diana stood to leave, giving Charlotte a bit of space to rest.

Once the door closed behind them, Damon turned toward her and gently took her hand.

"I spoke to your producer," he said softly. "Told them you’re sick and in the hospital. They understand you won’t be able to come to the filming set until next week."

Charlotte blinked. "Oh ... thank you."

Honestly, Charlotte didn’t need much time to heal physically. With her fast regeneration, she could probably go home tomorrow if she wanted to.

But considering how deep the wound in her heart was, it was clear she needed a few more days to rest.

On top of that, she was still a little traumatized by the thought of returning to the filming location, especially having to pass the same road where she was kidnapped... and where Isolde had ...

Wait.

"What happened to Isolde?" Charlotte suddenly asked, her voice full of concern.

She had seen someone shoot Isolde with a silver bullet. After that, everything went blurry.

She didn’t know what had happened because everything went black the moment she lost consciousness.

And when she finally woke up, she was already in a room deep inside the tunnel.

"Is she ... dead?" she asked, her hands trembling slightly.

The thought alone sent a dull ache through her heart.

Charlotte hadn’t spent a lot of time with Isolde, but the moments they shared ... mattered. Isolde had always been there, watching her back, stepping in to protect her without hesitation.

She hadn’t known her long, but somehow, Isolde had already carved out a place in Charlotte’s heart.

Could she really be gone? What if that silver bullet had ended everything?

Even the thought made it hard to breathe.