Chapter 3
June's POV
The second Vivienne asked the question, Sloane burst into a mocking laugh.
"Of course it isn't," Sloane sneered. "June was a known nobody at school. She was always hanging around different guys, not to mention her night job at that sleazy club. Who knows whose bastard she's carrying?"
"Shut up," I hissed, biting my lower lip.
Sloane ignored me, turning back to Vivienne. "Her mother was an unwed mother too, living off random men. June grew up in a dilapidated shack, survival-style. The neighbors always heard her father beating them. Girls from that kind of trash family know exactly how to play the victim."
My nails dug deep into my palms. I was so close to getting the money for my mother. I couldn't let my anger ruin this. Once the funds were in, Margaret would go to Houston, and this baby would have everything I never had.
Vivienne turned her gaze to me. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
"No."
"Then we do a DNA test."
"Fine."
"June!" Elias’s voice roared from the top of the stairs.
He was wearing his grey lounge clothes, meaning he had heard everything. He walked down slowly, his sharp gaze cutting through Sloane before settling on me.
"What are you all waiting for?" he demanded.
Right then, the doorbell rang. The family doctor walked in, carrying a medical case. Vivienne nodded, and two maids immediately held my arms. The doctor drew my blood and took a prenatal sample.
I didn't struggle.
"If you dare try to pass off a bastard as a Sinclair heir," Vivienne warned, her voice cold as ice, "I will make sure you never find a job or a place to live in Koren City again."
"She isn't lying," Elias said suddenly.
Vivienne shot him a look. "You don't have a say in this." She pointed toward the stairs. "Go back to your room. Stop making a fool of yourself."
I walked past the silent, mocking room. When I passed Elias, he grabbed my wrist.
"Why didn't you fight back?" he hissed. "Why didn't you scream at them?"
My eyes burned with unshed tears. "With what authority? I live in your house, eat your food, and my mother’s medical bills are paid by your family. The DNA test will speak for itself."
"You could have told them Sloane was lying!"
"And what difference would that make?"
His grip tightened, his eyes searching mine. I pulled my hand back gently and walked upstairs.
Behind me, Sloane's voice turned sweet. "Elias, I was just looking out for you. If she's lying, what will you do when the baby is born?"
"What else?" he replied coldly. "I'll accept my bad luck. But you better never touch her again."
That night, Elias was pacing our bedroom, handling call after call.
"The board doesn't dictate my terms," he snapped, rubbing his temples. "Redo the contract. Send it to my email tonight. Not tomorrow. Now."
I curled up on the sofa, watching a movie on TV. The female lead was crying as her father apologized. Unconsciously, my own tears began to slip down my cheeks.
"Can you stop sniffing?" Elias hung up, glaring at me. "It's distracting."
"Sorry."
"I didn't tell you to cry."
I wiped my face, but my nose was still stuffed.
Elias tossed his phone onto the coffee table, walked over, and swept me into his arms.
"What are you doing?" I gasped as my feet left the ground.
He carried me to the bed, laid me down, and climbed in right next to me, pulling the duvet over us.
"Taking care of you."
"I don't need it."
"Your stomach is getting bigger. You'll hurt the baby if you roll over," he said quickly, wrapping an arm loosely around my waist from behind. "If you sleep here, I can keep you from turning."
I didn't call out his excuse. I just shifted closer to the edge of the bed.
"Don't go so far," he grumbled, pulling me back. "You'll fall off."
I closed my eyes and stayed silent. That night, I didn't know how many times he woke up. I only knew that every time the mattress shifted, his warm hand would find mine in the dark.
From that day on, Elias changed. He insisted that I sleep in his bed, claiming it was for the baby's safety. When I studied in his room, he complained my page-turning was too loud, but the second I tried to leave, he blocked the door. He demanded I finish every meal under his watchful eye. The more cooperative I was, the angrier he seemed to get.
When the DNA report arrived, Vivienne looked at the results and finally smiled.
"The child is indeed Elias's."
She pushed another check toward me. "This is an additional three million dollars. Once the child is born, the rest of the assets will be transferred."
I accepted the check. For the first time, I felt like I had made the right choice. My mother would live, and my future was secure.
Elias stood by the window, staring out into the rain. He didn't speak a word all day.
A few nights later, he returned late from a business banquet, heavily smelling of alcohol. He waved off the maids and collapsed onto the couch.
"I'm fine," he muttered, closing his eyes.
I sighed, grabbing a warm towel to wipe his face. I unbuttoned his collar to help him breathe easier. Under the dim lights, his broad shoulders and tone frame seemed incredibly commanding.
"You're drunk," I whispered. "Where is your usual self-control?"
He groaned, suddenly capturing my wrist with lightning speed.
"Elias, let go."
"Don't go."
I playing along, offering a teasing smirk. "Call me 'sweetheart' and maybe I'll stay."
His eyes snapped open.
Before I could react, he pulled me down hard. I lost my balance, crashing onto his chest. The scent of expensive cologne and alcohol wrapped around me, and his hands locked around my waist.
