FALLON
I can barely process the words. They’re ice, a death sentence dressed as a future.
His admission is vile, the reality of this marriage crashing down on me. Unless I play the role he demands, I am to be used, then discarded.
“You would kill the mother of your child?” My voice quivers with disbelief. I search his face for a hint of humanity, some sign that he recognizes the gravity of his cold words.
Leone’s expression is unfazed, as if we’re discussing nothing more than the weather. “A mother isn’t needed to raise a child,” he states flatly, his dark eyes void of empathy. “I have plenty of people here who will help with that.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” I mutter with a shake of my head. I know all too well that mothers are overrated. Mine ditched me, yet the thought of doing that t
