The sight that greeted her left her rooted in place, every thought wiped clean from her mind. At the head of the group strode Ernest, with Quentin close behind, followed by a swarm of people.
Elissa hesitated, uncertain how to react. Never had she imagined Ernest would learn the truth this fast, much less appear in person to confront her.
Her instincts screamed at her to run, though she doubted escape was possible. In a panic, Elissa shot to her feet and tried to make a break for it.
“Stop, Elissa!” Ernest’s voice rang out, low and tight with anger, while footsteps thundered behind her. “Don’t go—just stop!”
Elissa refused to look back, bowing her head as she dashed ahead. A wall loomed in her path, leaving her nowhere to go, and she came to an abrupt halt.
In the next moment, Ernest reached her, grabbing hold of her arm. Startled, Elissa found herself swept into his arms.
Warm breath skimmed her forehead as Ernest spoke softly. “I told you to stop running. Didn’t you hear me?”
Elissa had no chance to answer before his voice turned sharp. “Even if you did hear me, you never listen. If you did, you wouldn’t be standing here right now!”
His lips pressed into a thin, tense line as he studied her face. A heavy sigh escaped him, his brow furrowing. “I honestly never thought you could be so cold. How could you even consider getting rid of our child?”
Years ago, she had chosen to keep Locke despite everything.
That was why Ernest could hardly process the idea that she’d now choose to end this pregnancy. The awkwardness between them hadn’t changed the fact that this child was conceived at a time when their love felt real.
With a voice grown rough, Ernest pleaded, “How can you even think about it?”
“You want to know how?” Elissa glared at him, shock flashing in her eyes. “Maybe you should ask yourself the same thing! Isn’t Locke’s life already hard enough? And now you want another child born out of wedlock? How is that fair to either of them?”
g?lnσνs?c?m brings endless adventures
The meaning behind her words finally sank in for Ernest.
“Why does that matter so much?” He gripped her wrist and pulled her closer, frustration in his eyes. “I’ve told you before, Linda can’t have children. Locke and this baby—they’re both mine, both my heirs. No one will challenge their place.”
“What did you say?” Elissa’s thoughts spun, and anger burst out. “You’re missing the point! I’m not talking about their inheritance!”
“Then what do you want me to say?” Ernest pressed, his expression unyielding. “These are my only children. But if you want more, we can have more. I’ll love every single one of them—even if you want ten, I’ll be a good father to them all. There’s nothing wrong with that!”
“Love? Now we’re talking about love?” His words sounded ridiculous to her. “How can you talk about love when you can’t even give them basic respect? What do you expect people to say about them? You’d have your own children whispered about, called the bastards of the Flynn family?”
“Elissa!” Ernest’s breath quickened, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. His eyes, shadowed and fierce, never left her face. “Once they’re older, things might change. Linda—”
.
.
.