"Stacy and I have already discussed it. If you're willing, you can travel overseas—go wherever you like. If you'd rather stay with the company, we can arrange a quiet position for you. Something comfortable. You can retire in peace. We certainly won't leave you wanting for money. Just ask, and it's yours. We won't mistreat you."
"Haven't you noticed how smoothly business has been going these past six months? The master said it himself—Stacy's child is a lucky heir, destined to bring glory to the Stephens name."
I laughed. It tasted like vinegar.
A grown man believing this nonsense. A lucky heir?
Why not call it what it really was—a bastard born of betrayal. But of course, he'd spin it into something gilded.
And apparently, I now needed their permission to spend money I'd earned myself.
"Duke, don't you find this shameful? Since when do mistresses and gold-diggers get to strut in and steal the nest?"
"A lucky heir? As if the company was hemorrhaging money before this child existed?"
His expression darkened. Finally, the words spilled out.
"What would you know about it? You can't even bear children. If you could, do you think I would've let Stacy carry my heir?"