"Tessa is grown now. The burden I carried for seven years should finally shift to her. If she wants the benefits, then she should be willing to pay the price. Isn’t that how this works?"
Fury flashed in Ezekiel’s eyes before he struck me hard across the face. "A bastard like you has no conscience! I should’ve listened to Mom back then and left you to freeze to death in the snow. You ungrateful wretch!"
My birth mother was Erica Cavendish.
But my father? Just an unknown male model, selling his looks in a club.
Back then, Erica wanted revenge on her husband for his affairs, so she picked a male model at random for a single night. She never expected to end up pregnant with me.
The doctor warned her that, given her condition, an abortion might leave her unable to conceive again.
So, she kept the pregnancy a secret. And when I was born, she ordered Ezekiel, who knew the truth, to leave me in the snow to freeze to death.
But he was just a boy, too afraid to take a life. Instead, he left me on the doorstep of my adoptive mother’s house.
For twenty years, she and I lived together until Ezekiel found me again. This time, he wasn’t offering salvation. He demanded that I donate my eggs to Evie as if my body belonged to the Cavendish family.
In his mind, if not for him, I would have died long ago. Any sacrifice I made for them was only fair.
I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and met his gaze.
"Because of your fleeting hesitation that night, I lost seven years of my freedom. I lost all of my eggs. I can never have children of my own."
"What I owed you, I’ve already repaid."
Thinking about what Tessa had just said, I met his gaze and reminded him, “Instead of wasting time arguing with me, why don’t you go ask your dear sister? Maybe she’d be more than happy to be that replacement.”
Something flickered in Ezekiel’s eyes. A realization.
Then, without another word, he shot me a glare and stormed toward the study.
Behind me, familiar footsteps echoed in the hallway. Moments later, Carlos appeared, his presence as suffocating as ever.
I had no idea when he had stepped out, but the bodyguards trailing him were carrying several large boxes.
His gaze swept over my suitcase, his expression unreadable. Then, in that cold, measured tone of his, he said, “Are you still sulking over Stephen? He’s just a child. And besides, you were the one at fault yesterday. Stop being so stubborn.”