“Take her away,” Sullivan said lazily, not looking at me. “She’s as good as dead. If she dies now, maybe it’s better for her.”
“Y-You—” I choked, trembling, my voice cracking under the weight of rage and heartbreak. “You bastard—Sullivan!!”
I broke down completely, crying and shouting like a madwoman. “You killed your own child! And now—now you’ve murdered the man who saved your worthless life! You think you’ll walk away from this? You’re going to rot in hell!”
He finally looked at me then. Just a glance. Slightly furrowed brows, as if my pain was little more than an inconvenience. Then—he sighed.
“Lock her up,” he said, almost wearily. “Like I told you.”
As if I were a toy he’d already broken, now being sent off for safekeeping, he added, “And for the next few days… if she asks for anything, give it to her. Take good care of her.”
Sullivan’s POV
I spared no expense preparing for the press conference. Of course, it was not just a conference; it’s the time the world would know who my heir was. Money meant nothing if it meant solidifying Shannah’s place—and mine. The world needed to know who she was to me.