Ivan's hands stilled on my shoulders. Glenda's eyes reddened instantly. "Ivan... maybe we should just forget about what we discussed."
"Cooper and I—we're just a widow and her boy. We can't compete with..."
Her voice cracked. Her expression crumbled into something wounded and pitiable, as though she'd endured a thousand injustices.
She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to. Ivan understood perfectly.
"Don't be ridiculous," he said immediately. "I told you I'd take care of you both. I don't go back on my word."
His gaze swung to me, cold as a blade. "Stella, are you so desperate to keep me that you'd frame a child?"
His fingers locked around my wrist and squeezed—so hard I heard the bones creak. But that pain was nothing compared to what was happening inside me.
The tiny life tethered to mine was slipping away. I thought of the dream—
Instinctively, I clutched at the hem of Ivan's shirt, my voice barely a whisper. "Help me... my stomach hurts so much..."
But Ivan's expression hardened. "Stop faking it. In your last life, you delivered a healthy boy just fine. Nothing's going to go wrong this time either."