Pakhan's eyes swept over my belly like he was inspecting merchandise. My body went rigid.
"Sit," Pakhan said.
I nodded and slipped into a seat at the far end of the table like a shadow.
Dinner dragged on in suffocating silence, just the clink of silverware. I stared at the medium-rare steak on my plate. No appetite.
"About our partnership," Pakhan said suddenly, looking at Vanessa. "How's your father coming along?"
"He's handling the paperwork," Vanessa said smoothly. "Once we announce our engagement, our supply opens completely to Thorne Group. This isn't just business—it's about merging our families."
Silas set down his knife and fork and dabbed his mouth with his napkin. "Good."
Even those brief words felt like needles in my chest.
"Speaking of the engagement." Pakhan stopped eating, a slight smile on his face as he looked at Silas. "Your engagement ceremony has to happen right after the baby's born. The Thorne family needs a proper mistress."
"I'll arrange it," Silas said, voice low and even.
My heart clenched, but I forced myself to ignore the pain. I shouldn't feel hurt. This was always the plan.
"And you need to plan ahead for after the baby comes. After all, this is the Thorne family's firstborn—the first child you'll raise together."
My hands twisted my skirt under the table.
"Of course, Mr. Thorne." Vanessa's lips curved. "I've already had the nursery designed, and I've contacted the best nannies. Once the baby's born, they'll take over immediately. Then Anthea can go home."
Vanessa finished and watched me like a snake waiting for its prey to twitch.
My throat felt stuffed with cotton, sour and painful. I was sitting right here, carrying this child, feeling every kick. And they were discussing how quickly they could erase me from his life.
But I couldn't even be angry.
Silas didn't say anything. He lifted his wine glass, took a sip. Those dark gray eyes were unreadable.
"Oh, Silas," Vanessa's voice turned sugary, "what should we name the baby? I was thinking Viktor. It's powerful."
Olei. That name that meant sacred, blessed. Would they just wipe it away? My stomach churned. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be hearing this. My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
My silver fork slipped from my fingers and hit the marble floor with a sharp crack.
"Sorry." I bent down, reaching for the fork.
I ducked under the table, hand searching the floor. I found the cold metal quickly. But just as I grabbed it, my eyes caught something underneath the tablecloth.
My blood froze. Vanessa had slipped off one shoe. Her red-painted toes were sliding up and down between Silas's legs. Bold. Shameless. She traced the outline of his crotch with her toes. And Silas didn't pull away. Under her touch, a noticeable bulge formed. He was hard.
Bile surged up my throat. I shot upright, unable to look anymore.
"What's wrong?" Vanessa asked, all innocence. Her foot was probably still working beneath the table.
Silas's eyes met mine, churning with something I couldn't read—lust, restraint, warning?
I couldn't stay.
"I'm full," I stood, voice shaking.
A stern voice cut through. Old Pakhan spoke.
