Chapter 7 My Cub

Belle's POV: I trusted my doctor friend completely. She was incredibly knowledgeable and seemed to have insights into all sorts of strange and mysterious topics. On several occasions, she had helped me with problems that defied scientific explanations. I had always trusted her implicitly. Back then, I had asked her, "What do you mean? What kind of disaster?" "I can't tell you, Belle. I'm sorry for dragging you into this. I didn't think it would actually work. This involves an entirely different species." She looked at me with a mixture of shock and regret, and I had no idea what she meant. "Remember this," she said, her voice grave. "Never, and I mean never, let your children take off these necklaces. Consider them a gift, a protection for your twins. Alright?" Then she left. I was heavily pregnant at the time and couldn't chase after her. The next day, a feeling of unease drove me to the hospital to look for her, but they told me she had resigned. No one knew where she had gone. Now, seeing the crack in Moona's necklace, I wondered if it had protected her from danger that afternoon. But there was no scientific explanation for any of this. Still, given the strange events of the day, I couldn't worry about scientific explanations. I ran my fingers over the crack. It wasn't huge, but it was noticeable, and I feared that if it were bumped or knocked again, it could get worse. When the day comes that the pendant finally shatters, will it still protect my daughter from harm? If it can't ... I clenched my fists, silently vowing that I would stay by her side no matter what kind of danger came her way. The only silver lining was that Sunny's necklace was still intact. He was safe. The next morning, I woke up with a new plan. After breakfast, I loaded Moona into her stroller and headed out. "Erin, I'm going to see if I can find someone who can repair Moona's necklace. Please keep an eye on Sunny." "Got it." Erin agreed, and I waved goodbye to Sunny with a smile. I spent the whole day going from shop to shop, visiting every repair store I could find, old and new, nearby and far. But no one could fix it. They all told me that the necklace looked very unusual and that they didn't have the skill to repair it. One person offered to try, but only if I signed a waiver saying they wouldn't be held responsible if it broke completely. This wasn't the result I'd hoped for. Hearing it from these professionals only made my heart sink further. With Moona safely back home, I hurried out again, my scooter zipping through the streets. I had two little ones depending on me; I had to work to build a life for us. There was no other option. After I finished my shopping, I was riding my scooter back along the streets of the industrial area, lost in thought. Screech! Suddenly, a black car came out of nowhere, slamming to a stop right next to my scooter. The scooter stand scraped against the car's front, leaving a long scratch. Thud! I toppled over with the scooter, landing painfully on the ground. But I didn't care about my injuries. My only thought was for my wallet. Great. I hadn't even paid Leroy for the last repair, and now I'd scratched another car. I seriously wondered if I was cursed lately. The doors of the black car swung open. Two tall, imposing men emerged, one from the driver's seat and the other from the back. I was completely stunned, my mouth hanging open as I stammered, "Mr. Tucker ... why is it you again?" "I was about to ask you the same thing," Leroy replied, his handsome face dark with irritation. "Are you deliberately targeting me?" "I'm not!" I felt miserable inside. Why was this happening? "Then how do you explain this?" Leroy pointed to the Maybach. "Twice now you've 'accidentally' run into me. You expect me to believe this isn't on purpose?" "How would I know it'd happen again?" I protested helplessly. "If anything, meeting you means I lose money! How does that make it my fault?" Leroy's tone softened a little. "Are you hurt?" I shook my head. "Just a bit scraped. Thank goodness you stopped in time." "You should thank my driver," he said, his face still stern. "Turning on a red light—don't you value your life?" "There were no other cars ... " I mumbled, blushing. It was true; I had been careless. "I wasn't paying attention." "Ged," Leroy said to his assistant, "take her scooter and get it fixed." "Sure, Mr. Leroy," Ged Parkinson replied, going over to pick up the scooter. "That's not necessary," I said quickly. "I can handle the repairs myself. But, um ... Mr. Tucker, how much do I owe you for the car this time?" I glanced at the car and my heart sank. I'd scratch a Maybach this time. My luck really couldn't get any worse. "Get in the car," Leroy said. "Let's go take care of your injuries first." "I'm fine. I just want to know how much ... " This repair had to be several thousand, right? "You're bleeding," he interrupted, pointing to my arm. "Get in. We'll talk about the repair costs later." "Fine ... " I had no choice but to slump into the back seat of the Maybach. Leroy climbed into the driver's seat. Fifteen minutes later, we were back in the city. Leroy took me to a small clinic first to get my scrapes cleaned up. After that, he drove me back to Sweetheart Bakery, my pastry shop. The sweet, comforting smell inside lifted my spirits. "Mr. Tucker, would you like a pastry? It's the least I can offer after all the trouble I've caused you." "I'm not a child," he said, brushing me off. "I'm not interested in sweets." "Not all pastries are sweet," I said, holding up a tray of puffs. "These are delicious. Want to give one a try?" "No, thanks," he said, clearly unimpressed. "I'm heading out now. Take care of your injuries, and make sure they don't get wet." "Thank you, Mr. Tucker," I said quickly, not wanting to delay him. "That car I scratched ... it looked pretty banged up." "So, how do you plan to pay?" He was about to leave, but turned back. "With the two cars, you're looking at around 50,000 dollars." Fifty thousand dollars! I bit my lip. I'd have to sell pastries non-stop for two years to make that kind of money. But how could I manage that? I still had two little ones to take care of! "I'll find a way to pay it all back," I said firmly, "but ... could you give me some time?" "One year? Three years?" Leroy's mouth quirked with amusement. "Or longer?" "Well, I ... " I started, but then his expression changed suddenly. I heard him mutter, "What the hell ... I can smell my cub ... " He glanced toward the second floor, then vanished like a magician performing a disappearing act. "Mr. Tucker?" I looked around, calling out tentatively, but the street was silent, with no answer. A chill crept through my body, making me instinctively hug myself. The feeling of fear was back. My mind was a whirl of confusion. I couldn't grasp what had just happened—why Leroy had disappeared so abruptly or how he'd done it. Most importantly, where had he gone? And what did he mean by "cub"? I ran back inside, closing the door behind me in a panic, and hurried upstairs. But when I reached the twins' bedroom, I froze. There was Leroy, holding my daughter Moona in his arms. Beside him, Sunny was watching him curiously. "Mr. Tucker, please put my child down!" I shouted, a surge of protective instinct and panic flooding my chest. But Leroy held Moona close, his face filled with awe and emotion. "No, she's mine! "She has the scent of my cub!"