He hesitated, adjusting his stance. When he spoke again, he pitched his voice lower, adopting that gentle, persuasive tone he used on difficult patients.
"Lexi, look, I know you're still sulking. But you need to be reasonable. Yolanda is different from you. She's fragile. She can't live without me."
He took a breath, delivering his next words with sickening confidence.
"I came here because I need you to come back. I need you to take care of Yolanda during her postpartum confinement."
My blood ran cold.
"Don't worry," he added quickly, mistaking my silence for consideration. "Once Yolanda recovers, I'll give her a severance package. We'll take the child, raise it as our own, and send her abroad. She won't bother us again."
I stood with my back to him, my vision blurring with rage.
For a split second, I had foolishly thought he might have come to apologize. That he might have felt a shred of remorse.
I should have known better.
I spun around, my eyes burning.
"Alex Delgado, have you lost your mind? You expect me to serve your mistress during her confinement?"
The words barely left my lips before his palm connected with my cheek. The crack echoed through the room.