Chapter 949

Rosalind froze. "What are you saying? Terminate our child?"

Lucian's lips curled into a mirthless smile. "Isn't that exactly what you intended?"

She clutched his sleeve desperately. "Listen to me! Someone took me to the clinic today—they wanted to harm our baby. It was—"

Before she could name them, Lucian cut her off with a bitter laugh. His gaze turned glacial.

"Are you really going to lie to my face again?"

Rosalind threw aside the covers and stood. "Again? What exactly have I lied about?"

His voice turned razor-sharp. "Let's see—was someone really forcing you? Or did you go willingly? Was it someone else trying to hurt the baby, or was it you who never wanted it in the first place?"

She recoiled as if struck. "Never wanted it? What kind of twisted logic is that?"

"Enough!" His voice cracked like a whip. "How long will you keep up this act? The clinic records show you scheduled the procedure yourself."

Rosalind's breath hitched. An appointment? Her?

"If I hadn't dragged you off that table in time," Lucian continued, his knuckles whitening, "our child would be gone. How could you?"

Her vision swam. "I never said—"

"You're cruel." His voice dropped to a wounded whisper. "You weren't even going to tell me about the pregnancy. Did my rights as the father mean nothing to you?"

Rosalind's nails dug into her palms. "Who fed you these lies? Julian and Genevieve?"

"Does it matter?" He jerked his chin toward imaginary documents. "The physician confirmed it. The records don't lie."

Ice flooded her veins. Of course—the trap had been set the moment Lucian interrupted their scheme. Now the monsters had twisted reality itself.

She searched his stormy eyes. "Answer me honestly—do you still believe I betrayed you with Julian three years ago? That I orchestrated the attack that scarred you?"

Lucian's jaw tightened. "Didn't you?"

The floor seemed to tilt beneath her.

A hollow laugh escaped her. The poison had been festering for years.

"Believe what you want," she whispered. "But I'd never harm our child."

"Then prove it." His grip on her shoulders turned vise-like. "I've never begged for anything, Rosalind. But I'm begging now—carry this child to term. It's a life. My blood. Once it's born, I'll disappear from your life forever."

Her heart stuttered. "You'd... leave?"

"Isn't that what you've always wanted?" His smile held centuries of sorrow. "I fought to win you back, but some wars can't be won."

The words hung between them like a death sentence. Lucian Graves, the man who moved mountains for her, had finally surrendered.