"No need." I rose slowly, brushing myself off and looked at him with composure. "I’m not marrying you. Marry your beloved Lilian."
He said word by word, "Can you say it again?"
His cold words sliced through the air. "Say that again."
I did not bother to repeat myself. I turned to go back to the bedroom, but he grabbed my arm with such force it nearly dislocated.
I stumbled, completely off balance and crashed into the coffee table, landing hard on my lower back.
Seeing me in so much pain that I could not get up, Luca scoffed impatiently, "Stop pretending, Zara Yvonne."
Pain shot through my abdomen like a blade and a sudden warmth trickled down my thighs, pooling on the floor beneath me.
Just before everything went black, I heard him calling my name in a panic.
But I no longer wanted to listen.
When I woke up in the hospital, I was not shocked, just relieved.
The door creaked open. Luca entered, his expression unreadable. After a pause, he asked, "Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?"
I let out a cold chuckle. "How would I know if the child was even yours?"
His face twisted in anger. "You’re already four months along. Whose else could it be?"