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.”
If Alaric and his so-called brothers were willing to gamble millions on the child in my womb, then I’d give them a parting gift they’d never forget.
“I’ve taken the medication. The procedure’s scheduled in three days,” I told the nurse calmly.
With the appointment slip in hand, I returned home exhausted, only to find that the door’s keypad lock kept flashing “incorrect password.”
Confused, I was about to call the building manager when the door opened from the inside. Calla stood there—back from overseas—wearing my nightgown.
“Sister-in-law,” she smiled sweetly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “I just got back. My brother was worried about me staying alone, so he asked me to move in. I didn’t bring pajamas, so I borrowed yours. Hope you don’t mind?”
My gaze fell on the straps slipping off her shoulders, the obvious love marks on her collarbone, and the smugness in her eyes that she tried—and failed—to hide.
“Seraphine Locke is the most considerate woman I know. Of course, she won’t mind,” came Alaric’s voice as he stepped out, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
“Calla’s memory is terrible,” he added with a smirk. “So I changed the passcode to her birthday.”
I felt a bile rise in my throat. The very sight of him made my skin crawl. I said nothing and brushed past them, heading upstairs.