Chapter 4

The drawing room at the Davies estate was opulent, intimidating.

Mr. Davies sat in his usual high-backed armchair, a stern patriarch.

Ethan stood beside him, looking nervous.

Susan and Chloe were seated on a velvet settee. Chloe looked pale but smug, her hand resting protectively on her barely-there baby bump. She shot me a look of pure, unadulterated triumph.

The air was thick with unspoken accusations.

I sat down, my back straight, meeting Mr. Davies' gaze.

"Sarah," Mr. Davies began, his voice gravelly. "We have a... situation to discuss."

Ethan shifted his weight. "Dad, I can explain..."

"Let your mother-in-law speak, Ethan," Mr. Davies said, his eyes still on me.

Susan cleared her throat. Her voice was laced with false sorrow.

"Sarah, dear, we know this has been hard on you. Your... your difficulties in conceiving a second child."

I stared at her. Difficulties? We hadn't even been trying.

"And Emily," Susan continued, "such a lovely girl. But as an only child, she might feel... isolated in the future. Especially when it comes to family matters. Inheritance."

Chloe nodded sadly, dabbing at a non-existent tear.

"So," Susan's voice grew stronger, more righteous. "Sarah, in her wisdom and generosity, came up with a solution. A way to ensure Emily has a sibling, a way to secure the family line."

My mind reeled. What were they saying?

"She proposed," Susan announced, her eyes sweeping the room, "that Chloe... help. That Chloe carry a child for her and Ethan. A child that would be raised as Sarah's, registered under Sarah's name."

The audacity of it. They were twisting everything, painting me as the architect of this disgusting scheme.

Mr. Davies looked at me, his expression unreadable. "Is this true, Sarah? Was this your idea?"

For the sake of family honor, for the sake of a future grandson to carry the Davies name and eventually inherit Ethan's Interiors, he was willing to believe this lie. He needed to believe it.

He probably even convinced himself it was true, to justify his son's actions.

He wanted a male heir. Chloe was likely carrying a boy.

He made a noncommittal grunt, which I took as acceptance of Susan's story. He then looked at Ethan.

"This arrangement, while... unorthodox, will solidify your position, Ethan. A son is important."

He then turned to me. "You will cooperate, Sarah. For the good of the family. For Emily's future."

It wasn't a request. It was an order.

He even implied that this "sacrifice" on my part would somehow strengthen Ethan's role in the company, as if producing an heir through any means necessary was a mark of strong leadership.

I felt a surge of fury, so intense I could barely breathe.

Before I could speak, a small voice piped up from the doorway.

"Mommy?"

Emily. Maria must have brought her. She wasn't supposed to be here.

She ran to me, her small face creased with worry.

"Grandma Susan is lying!" Emily declared, her voice surprisingly loud for a six-year-old. "Mommy didn't want Auntie Chloe to have a baby with Daddy! Mommy cried!"

Susan gasped. Chloe looked flustered.

Ethan's face turned red. "Emily! That's enough! Go with Maria!"

"No!" Emily stamped her foot. "You're bad! You made Mommy sad!"

She turned and glared at Chloe. "And you're bad too!"

Ethan, his composure snapping, reached out to grab Emily's arm.

"I said, that's enough!"

He was too rough. Emily stumbled, lost her balance, and fell, her head hitting the sharp corner of a heavy mahogany coffee table.

A sickening thud.

Then, silence.

Followed by Emily's piercing scream.