“Whoever it is, it’s not mine. Just the thought of her makes me sick. I’d rather watch a movie than touch her. She drove Calla away. I can’t stand the sight of her, let alone share a bed.”
Cassian chuckled. “How about a wager then? Let’s bet on the father.”
Everyone turned to Alaric Vane, waiting for his reaction.
He took a slow sip of wine, eyes cold.
“Ten million says the baby’s Cassian’s.”
The room exploded with laughter.
“Alaric, you’re ruthless!”
“I’ll bet 10 million it’s Jett Corbin’s.”
“Five million on Cassian Rourke.”
“Six million!”
Their jeers kept echoing like knives in my ears. I stood frozen outside the door, feeling like I had fallen into an icy abyss.
Everything I once believed in—his tenderness, his promises, his so-called love—was nothing but a lie.
A sick game. A cruel performance.
I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. Cold sweat soaked my back. Heart racing, I fled from that suffocating house like prey escaping a predator.
Once outside, I took a few deep breaths, steadying myself. My hands were still trembling as I pulled out my phone. Without hesitation, I dialed the hospital.
“Hello, I’d like to schedule an abortion appointment.”