Claira stood in the middle of the bedroom, her voice trembling. “Lucas… you want me to abort our child?”
He said nothing.
Her hands went to her belly, cradling it instinctively. “The pregnancy I’ve always prayed for… after all these years of hoping and crying myself to sleep—and now, when it finally happens, you want me to kill it?”
Lucas’s expression didn’t change. He stayed calm, distant, like her words meant nothing.
She stammered, “Because of… because of Maya?”
That was when the truth cut through her like ice.
“I’m not ready for this,” he said, voice cold. “You knew what this was. You want to stay in this house, fine. But just get ready to act like a maid. Maya’s coming tomorrow.”
She gasped. “What do you mean—act like a maid?”
“She doesn’t know about you,” Lucas said flatly. “
