“Someone, get in here!” Julian’s tone was colder than ice.
The bodyguards and house staff, who had been trembling just outside the door, rushed in at once.
“Pack up all her things. Throw them out. Now.”
He jabbed a finger at Queenie, who was collapsed on the floor, and not a flicker of mercy crossed his face.
“This house—and the apartment she used to live in—call a realtor and put them both on the market. I want them sold immediately.”
Finally, he turned to the bodyguards and delivered the most merciless order of all.
“And get her out of here. Toss her out.”
“No—! Julian! You can’t do this to me!”
The terror and despair in Queenie’s eyes made the pain twisting in her abdomen even worse. Suddenly, she felt a rush of warmth between her legs, uncontrollable and staining the pale carpet a shocking red.
When she looked down and saw the blood, her mind shattered. She let out a piercing, hysterical wail.
“My baby! Julian, it’s your baby! Please, save him! Save our baby! I was wrong, I swear I was wrong—please…”
Dragging her limp, trembling body, she tried to crawl toward his retreating figure, leaving a streak of blood behind her.
Julian paused briefly at the doorway, but never looked back.
His voice, colder than ever, rang out and crushed Queenie’s last shred of hope.
“That’s not my child.”
With that, he strode out the front door of the mansion, a house steeped in lies and betrayal, leaving Queenie’s desperate cries and the heavy scent of blood behind him.


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