When his eyes finally settled on my face, something unreadable flickered in them.
“It’s your first time coming into my study uninvited,” he said.
His voice was low.
But there was a current beneath it.
“What’s troubling you?”
No softness. No pretense.
Straight to the point.
That was him.
And for once—I matched it.
I didn’t think.
Didn’t ease into it.
Didn’t dress it up or soften the edges.
“I’m pregnant.”
The words landed between us like a gunshot.
Silence followed.
He stilled completely.
It was subtle if you didn’t know him—but I did.
Every line of his body locked into place.
His shoulders went rigid.
His hand, hanging loosely at his side a second ago, curled slowly into a fist.
Tighter.
Tighter.
Until his knuckles blanched white beneath the strain.
When he spoke, his voice was quiet.
“Matteo deserves death.”
Each word was lethal.
Laced with something far more dangerous than shouting.
“I spared him—for Violet’s sake,” he continued, jaw tightening. “But now...” His eyes darkened, something violent surfacing beneath the control. “Now I’ll let him taste hell before I end him.”
The shift was instant.
Like a storm breaking without warning.
