And in a low, husky voice, he said, “I’ve got to work overtime tonight, so I can’t stay with you. Ophelia, take care of yourself, stay home, and wait for me like a good girl. I’ll come back early.”
The second he said that, Estelle pinched his waist in dissatisfaction. In an instant, he shot her this sharp, dangerous glare.
He didn’t wait for me to say a word. He couldn’t get out of here fast enough, carrying her out of the villa.
Watching their silhouettes finally disappear, I leaned against the couch, my face pale. I turned on my phone and booked an abortion appointment for three days later.
I would absolutely not let the murderer’s child be born from my womb!
If Conrad planned to kill me at the perfume launch next month…
Then that day, I’d drag the two of them into hell together.
The second after setting the plan, my phone suddenly rang.
I frowned slightly, but in the end, I answered anyway.
“Hi, sorry, is this Ophelia? The baby you’re carrying… It’s not yours and your husband’s. It’s mine. Can I discuss this with you?”
The moment I heard that, my eyes widened in disbelief.
Ophelia’s POV
“What nonsense are you talking about? How could the baby I’m carrying possibly be yours?”