Isabella’s POV
“You’re the father of Betty’s child,” I said, my voice trembling with disbelief as my eyes widened in shock.
Asher froze. His eyes mirrored mine—wide, stunned. He pushed his hair back with shaking fingers, and the gesture made my stomach twist even more.
“So it’s true,” I whispered, a painful lump rising in my throat. “You’re the father.”
He stepped forward instinctively, but I took a step back. His expression shifted instantly—fear flashing across his face like a crack in glass.
“Isabella, please… listen to me,” he said, his voice cracking with desperation. “She says I’m the father, but I swear—I know I’m not. I’m not the father of her child.”
I let out a sharp laugh, bitter and broken.
“You slept with her, Asher,” I snapped, eyes burning. “Have you forgotten? You f*
