Claire heard the name Connor and felt a jolt run through her heart. It wasn't the memory of that horrific night with seven men that haunted her the most; it was the reality of having Connor. Connor, who carried the tainted blood of those monsters. She had brought into the world the child of those she loathed more than anything. The child of the ones who destroyed her true love.
Every moment with Connor was a relentless reminder of that nightmare, like she was stuck in a never-ending warzone of despair and cruelty. And she just couldn't break free, all because of Connor. Every time she looked at him, rage surged through her, an overwhelming urge to erase not him, but the past that clung to her like a relentless shadow.
“He’s not my son, he’s not!” Claire's body shook as she tried to reject the truth with her words.
Suzanne chimed in, “But doesn’t he look a lot like you?” She stepped off the stage with a strange look on her face, leaning in as if sharing a secret. “But haven’t you noticed? He resembles my friend too.”
Then Suzanne erupted in laughter. “Claire, I’ve got a secret for you. Connor is actually the child of you and my friend.”
Claire went rigid, as if lightning had struck her. It took her a moment to find her voice. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying Connor is the child of you and my friend. I’ve already done the DNA test,” Suzanne said with a twisted glee.
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