Baillie didn’t mince words. “Ivy, Emma lost the baby. She was hemorrhaging and they couldn’t stop it—they had to remove her uterus. The child was already formed, but deformed. Honestly, it’s probably for the best.”

Lost the baby? Lost her uterus?

Ivy’s eyes widened as she glanced at her husband in shock.

Jamison’s handsome face darkened; he was clearly taken aback as well.

“You didn’t need to tell me all this,” Ivy replied, her tone as cool as ever. She only cared about the outcome, not the messy details.

Baillie bristled. “Isn’t this the sincerity you wanted? Emma’s always been at odds with you, but now she’s out of the picture. Once she recovers, she’ll be back in custody. No one’s left to torment you.”

“Mr. Windsor, I told you–I want nothing to do with your family drama. God knows what grievances you people have, but to turn on your own sister like that?” Ivy deliberately took the moral high ground, chastising Baillie for trying to use her as his pawn.

Baillie was so furious he could barely speak. But after a moment, he changed tactics, his voice turning cold. “Fine, pretend this has nothing to do with you. But Dad’s condition can’t wait. If you have even a shred of conscience–and don’t want to end up like Emma–then you know what you need to do.”

With that, Baillie hung up, seething.

Ivy didn’t care about his attitude. She turned to Jamison. “How much will the surgery cost in total?”

“Minimum five hundred thousand for the operation, and at least another hundred thousand for the hospital stay and follow-up care.”

Ivy nodded–she’d already decided on her approach. “Have Boyd reach out to a charity. We’ll donate six hundred thousand through them, earmarked for the medical bills. That way, it won’t trace back to me.”

Jamison grinned, circling around the garden swing to sit beside her. “You really do think of everything.”

If the money came directly from Ivy, Baillie could easily turn around and accuse her–claiming she’d orchestrated Emma’s downfall just to get her father’s life-saving funds. That would be a headache for Ivy.

But if the payment was funneled through a charity, even if Baillie figured out the truth, he’d have no proof. There’d be no evidence of a backdoor deal.

Jamison picked up his phone and called Boyd, instructing him to handle it.

“And another thing–the Windsor family’s house. I heard it’s already been repossessed by the bank. I want to buy it back, but put it under my name,” Ivy said. That way, the Windsors would have no choice but to rely on her from now on. “Fine. That house isn’t worth much anyway. If you want it, it’s yours.”

Ivy had another reason for doing this. Baillie’s demands were simple: pay for Adkins Windsor’s surgery and save the family home.

Since Baillie had handled the Emma problem efficiently, Ivy would hold up her end of the bargain. There was no point in pinching pennies and making another enemy. But she wasn’t about to spend a fortune just to hand the Windsors a free ride. By buying back the house and keeping it in her own name, she’d ensure they depended on her—a win-win.

With everything settled, Ivy and Jamison both felt a sense of relief.

“Should we celebrate tonight?” Ivy suggested.

Jamison smiled. “How do you want to celebrate?”

Leaning into his arms, Ivy considered it seriously, then blushed and whispered something in his ear.

Jamison’s eyes lit up with surprise as he looked at her. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, her cheeks still pink. “Let’s give it a try.”