Duke bent to retrieve a shard of glass, then took my hand, patting it as one might comfort a child.
"Gertrude Sullivan, I know this is sudden. We'll talk later."
I shoved him away, my whole body trembling.
"What is this, Duke? What are you doing?"
His brow creased—not with guilt, but irritation.
"Gertrude. We have guests. Remember your dignity. I said we'll discuss this later."
He paused, his gaze drifting to Stacy. She stood apart from the crowd, head bowed, the picture of wounded innocence.
His expression softened instantly.
"Stacy is carrying my child. This baby's status is... significant. I have to give her legitimacy."
"A child?"
The room spun. Darkness crept at the edges of my vision.
Thirty years. I had managed his household, run his company, cared for his aging parents. When he was starting out with nothing, I'd mortgaged my own family inheritance to build what became EmpireStar Group.
And he had done this. Behind my back. Given another woman a child—a "blessed heir," no less.
I stared at him until my jaw ached from clenching.
"So tell me. After thirty years... what am I to you?"
"You got the title. You got me. Don't be greedy enough to demand my whole heart."