Robina stood frozen, her heart racing at Ian's words.
“I only came to see my son,” he had said, and the implication hit her like a freight train.
She could feel the colour drain from her face as she clutched Kelvin closer to her chest. The words echoed in her mind, making her pulse quicken with a mix of fear and anger.
Kelvin squirmed in her arms, oblivious to the tension between the adults.
Robina took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm. “Ian,” she said, her voice low and steady, “Kelvin is not your son. He's Makael's. You know that.”
Ian's eyes glinted with a dangerous mix of amusement and something darker.
He took a step closer, closing the distance between them. “Oh, Robina,” he said softly, his voice dripping with false sincerity, “are you so sure about that? You and
